Page 25 of Lavender and Linebackers

“Me? I’m not the problem. Most normal people can sit at a table and be considerate of their surroundings.”

He leans down, so really only I can hear him, and a piece of his hair falls onto his forehead. “Oh, I’m supposed to be considerate of you? Cute.”

I frown at how mean that is. In all the years we were friends, not once was he ever mean to me. But then again, we aren’t friends anymore, I guess now I’m getting all of his different sides.

He frowns too at whatever he sees on my face, his gaze dipping from my eyes to my mouth.

My mouth that once touched his. It was brief, but it was the single greatest and scariest moment of my life.

“All right. Enough, you two. People are watching,” Brian chastises us.

And they are. I instantly put a smile on my face to play my part. Ryder leans back in his chair and pulls his leg off mine. He runs his hand over his head, pushing the hair back. I hate how familiar his face is to me.

Brian steps to the side, and the first family scoots forward. It’s a mom and dad with two boys dressed in Colts football gear.

“You’re really pretty,” the littlest of the two boys says. He must be about six or seven.

“Thank you.” I smile brightly at him, and his cheeks flush pink. I sign the top two cards in my stack and hand one to him and another to his brother. Ryder does the same, while all four of them stare wide-eyed at him.

“Can I have my picture taken with you?” the youngest asks.

“Me too,” the older one chimes in, as if he doesn’t want to be left out.

“Of course,” I tell them.

Ryder is frowning. I don’t think it occurred to either of us that the boys would want their picture taken with me. Satisfaction blares bright.

“Why don’t you two step behind the table? You can stand wherever you like, and then Mom and Dad can take a photo,” Brian tells them.

The boys shuffle next to us. The smaller leans against me from the outside, while the older stands between Ryder and me, his hands stretched out to be on both our shoulders, and he’s grinning like the cat that got the canary.

“We just loved watching you play at Clemson. We were very excited when the Tarpons drafted you,” the mom tells him. The dad nods in agreement.

“Thank you. Trust me when I say no one was more excited than me to be drafted by them. The Tarpons have been my dream team for my whole life.”

“I love that for you.” She smiles at him.

After a few more minutes and a few more signatures on some gear they brought, the family leaves and the next one approaches. Rinse, wash, repeat for the next hour until Kelli shows up with a large iced coffee for me and a bottle of water for Ryder and Brian.

“Thank you,” he mumbles. It’s clear to all of us that after the way she responded to him at the barbecue, he’s surprised she thought of him.

“Well, it is hot out here, and we can’t have your delicate self melting.”

“Delicate?” He raises one brow.

“Yes, as we all know, you require gentle handling.”

“What does that mean?” he asks her, leaning back in his chair, stretching his legs out in front of him and tilting his head to the side.

I laugh. She’s trying to rage bait him. Ryder does not need gentle handling. I mean, maybe he’s not gentle now, but he was always even-keeled and went with the flow when I knew him before.

“Okay, kids,” Brian chastises again. At least it’s not me this time. Kelli rolls her eyes and wanders off to talk to families. I take a sip of my iced coffee and feel instantly rewarded with caramel.

“You were drinking iced coffee at the photo shoot too.” I can physically feel him looking at me.

“So? I love coffee,” I tell him, glancing over. It only took one hour for him to annoy me already.

“You didn’t drink it before. I specifically remember you hating it.” He smirks.