Flirting With First

by Sophia Summers

  She nodded against him. “Glad I found you.”

  He held her for another minute and then grabbed her hand as they walked back into the dugout. “Will you be here for the game?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve got to get back to the studio. This is kind of like my lunch break.”

  “It’s early for lunch.”

  “It’s worth it.” She stepped up on her toes and kissed him one more time right as the door slammed open and the guys started to show. Nickel stopped short. “Oh, wow. That’s not something you see every day in a dugout.” He stepped back while Trista and Ryker left through the door. Ryker led her down the hallway and then watched her make her way round the next corner.

  Maybe things would be just fine after all.

  Chapter 18

  Trista’s alarm meant she had ten more minutes to review the scene before she and Trevor would shoot it. She took a long swig of her coffee and reviewed the lines out loud, with the inside of her RV as the audience. “I can’t do this again with you. Don’t make me.”

  The scene was intense. They’d gone through it five times, and each time, they’d stopped for Trevor. They wanted a different vibe from him. He was giving off desperation. What they wanted was a sort of resigned confidence. His character had to show that what they had was difficult, but he could make it work by pure determination.

  At the end of the script, she was going to leave him. And it would crush him. That was the problem.

  She called his cell. “Trevor.”

  “Yeah.” His voice seeped stress into her ear.

  “You just have to pretend I’m not gonna leave. You know too much about what’s gonna happen. Your character doesn’t know what you know. Find your inner confidence. Pretend I’m yours forever.”

  The quiet on the phone felt hopeful.

  Finally he answered, “You’re right. I’m lacing the scene with foreshadowing that we are never going to be together. But he should be on top of the world. He can do anything.” He hung up, and Trista hoped that would fix things. She was hoping for dinner with Ryker tonight. That surprise minute on home plate had been too short. And too long ago. They were finally in the same city again, and dinner tonight was their last chance to be together before a long stretch of not seeing each other.

  The second alarm rang. She closed her eyes, and she knew she was ready.

  A knock on her door. “Makeup.”

  “Come in.”

  Ricardo and his new partner, Cici, fluttered around her, not doing much as far as she could tell. But to them, each touch, each highlight, each tweak was the difference between disaster and success. She wasn’t going to complain or question their methods. She looked stunning.

  She stepped out of her RV and breathed in her character. With each step back toward set, she let her concerns drop off, her recent thoughts, her plans for the evening. Everything fell away, and she placed herself firmly in the scene. By the time the director called, “Action,” she had found the parts of herself necessary for the scene and had let all others drop away. Each moment was true to her in some way. She’d found moments to relate to, to mimic the emotion needed and feel authentic to the part.

  Trevor slammed the door open. “You’re here.”

  She stood, dropping the book from her lap.

  “We still have time. Just stay.” His words almost jarred her back to Ryker and the baseball field. So she used the thought of Ryker to amp up her next response.

  “I love you enough. Do you dare?”

  Everything about the scene suddenly became more personal. She vowed to stick with him as Trevor molded with Ryker in a weird synergism, stubbornly insisting to herself and everyone who listened that despite all odds they would make it work. With her last cry of desperation and her panicked kisses, she convinced herself they had a chance.

  When the director yelled, “Cut,” she was tangled up in Trevor’s arms. She had to breathe three times before she felt like she could move, before she could recover enough to interact with anyone.

  Trevor’s kiss on her forehead felt healing, soothing her back into reality. She leaned into him before she pulled away. “What was that?”

  He shrugged. “Just thanks. I’ve never felt anything more real.”

  She eyed him. “I think it was a keeper.” She stood, adjusted her twisted shirt and pants, and waited for notes from the director.

  At last, he called it a wrap, and she moved off toward her RV, exhausted. She’d need about twenty minutes before she did anything, before she called Ryker. Then the evening was theirs. At last. Her feet dragged a little bit, but she kept her head high and her shoulders back. She waved off hair and makeup’s offer to wash her face and rounded the corner, seeking out the welcome sight of her RV.

  Ryker leaned up against her door, his arms folded across his chest, a tight t-shirt accentuating his muscles, and a pair of gym shorts—shorter than usual—showing off his tight, defined thighs.

  All her tired aches seeped from her body, and her natural smile energized her. She picked up her feet and ran to him. He stepped closer, and as soon as his arms were around her, he swung her in a circle before pulling her close, his face in the crook of her neck, hidden in her hair. “Can we go inside?”

  “Absolutely.” Trista’s heart pounded.

  As soon as her door shut behind them, he pulled her close, his mouth capturing hers. Some pent-up emotion lingering from her scene took over in a mad desperation for connection with Ryker. She stopped herself. “Sorry.”

  “What? No, that’s great. I missed you too.”

  She shook her head. “Of course.” She waved it away. “Sit down. Let me change.”

  “Wait, you should rest first. We’ve got time. And I have to change too.”

  “I was wondering. I’ve never seen you dressed like this outside of the gym or your practices.”

  “Came straight over, after a shower. I figured I’d bring you back to my place. Have dinner in?”

  Anticipation hammered through her in a happy cascade. “Sounds perfect.” She sat next to him. “I do need to rest for a minute. That was a tough one.”

  “It looked pretty intense.”

  She stilled. “You saw?” A swallow caught in her throat. What was he gonna think about…well, everything?

  “They let me in, said I was on the approved list.” He took her hand in his. “Is that okay?”

  “Of course. I’m glad I didn’t know.”

  “Awkward doing love scenes in front of your boyfriend?” His voice was casual, but she wondered what was going on inside his head.

  “Not quite what you might be thinking. First, the scene in there was not a love scene. ‘Cause there’s no love involved.”

  He nodded. “Okay…”

  “What is it? Talk to me.”

  “I’m good with it.” He had a strange expression on his face. She couldn’t pin down what he was thinking.

  “You sure?”

  “Totally. When I arrived, you were just about to start, and your face when you looked at him… I panicked. ‘Cause I’ve seen the same face looking at me.”

  She started to sit up to explain what he was obviously not understanding, but he held up his hand. “I thought…” He shook his head. “I thought it was the same look, but I kept watching and soon realized, no. What you were showing those people was beautiful, powerful. It was award winning. But it wasn’t real.”

  She didn’t know if she should be offended or grateful, so she waited, hoping he would keep talking.

  “It was like you were someone else, sort of.” He choked up a little bit, and she was surprised to see his eyes turn misty. Her mouth fell open, not sure what to say. She waited, holding her breath for him to finish.

  “Then after, I watched you walk toward me before you saw me. You looked like you might fall over, you were so spent. And you kept your head high. You smiled at people, helped that lady with her dropped paperwork. And when you caught sight of me. His eyes misted again. “I saw the real d
eal. And I was blown away.” He reached for her hand. “I’ve never felt so lucky in my life as I did in that moment to see you looking at me like that.”

  She squeezed his hand, unsure what to say, knowing this was important. “Ryker, I…”

  He pulled her back against him.

  She was quiet for a moment, just leaning into him, feeling safe, all her worries washing away. All the stress from the day, everything, leaving and being replaced by a great peace between them. “I love you.”

  He didn’t quite stiffen, but he sat very still. She wasn’t sure he was breathing. When she turned around to see his face, he wiped at his eyes. “I love you too.”

  “Are you okay?” Something was different with him, something important.

  “I think so. It’s just been a week, and I’ve missed you. This separation is killing me.”

  “You had a killer game though.”

  His laugh bounced against her side as she leaned back up against him. “True. I think our kiss on home plate did something to me.” He toyed with her hair. “Maybe you’re my new luck charm.” He brushed aside the strands covering her neck and pressed his lips right on the softness of her skin. “That meant a lot to me.”

  Her receptors fired all over, happy shivers running up and down her center. “To me too. Sometimes everything is just too much. And the small moments matter. So I knew we could fit in thirty minutes.”

  She was quiet and then asked, “What else?”

  He puffed out his breath. “Bree. That punk broke up with her.”

  Trista gasped. “Oh no. I’m not surprised, but that’s hard.”

  “Bree’s pretty upset about it, but I was in the middle of a game, so I only got her voicemail.”

  Trista checked her phone. “Me too, looks like.”

  Ryker squeezed her closer. “I’m so happy she reaches out to you.”

  “I’ll talk some sense into her. He’s so not worth it.”

  “I hope he was good to her before. You know?”

  Trista did know. “We’ll help her figure it out. Your parents too. They seem so great.” Trista wished her own were even close to being as helpful to her as the Stone family seemed to be. “I love how close your family is.”

  “They love you too. Everytime I call home I first have to answer questions about how you’re doing and when I saw you last.”

  Trista warmed inside, like she was a part of something special. “Thank you for telling me that. They’re awesome to care.”

  “Of course they do. If I care, they care. And I think pretty soon they’re gonna start caring for you even if I’m not around. The other night they told me that if I didn’t bring you to dinner it wouldn’t really matter if I came.”

  Trista laughed, knowing they were just joking with him, but she was grateful all the same for their support. She sat up. “I’m feeling better. Let me get washed up and let’s head over to your place. Is this fancy or comfortable?”

  “Comfortable.”

  She eyed him. “What is comfortable to you?”

  “Comfortable. Tan pants, golf shirt, cotton.”

  She laughed. “Got it.” She loved that about him, always looking nice. She’d wear a fun sundress, strappy heels, her hair down. She jumped in the tiny shower, washed quickly, and got dressed. She put on the barest makeup and was happy to let her hair airdry. When she exited her bedroom, Ryker stood, his eyes shining. “You ready?”

  “Yes! Are we finally going on that date?”

  “We are.” He opened the door for her. “And you look more beautiful than I’ve ever seen you.”

  “I think you’ve said that before.” But she glowed from his compliment anyway.

  “It’s true every time.”

  She laughed. “Perfect.” They made their way around the set, past people still working on the movie, and she was grateful for everyone involved in making it a success. If they won any awards at all, it would be because of every person here. Even if she and Trevor would get a lot of the credit. She waved to the people closing up the set, and then she and Ryker exited out to the parking lot.

  Trevor was just getting into his car. Alone. Trista wondered if he had anyone he was close to. If so, it was a tightly kept secret. They waved to him. Ryker seemed fine with him. And they both drove away.

  “So, your place?” Trista wondered what to expect.

  “Yes, can we cook together, or are you so tired you’d rather order takeout?”

  She thought for a minute and suddenly the idea of making a whole meal with Ryker sounded too irresistible. “Let’s make it together.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that. I have everything we need for stuffed shells and salad. Or flank steak and baked potatoes with everything on it.”

  “Let’s go for the flank steak.”

  “And then maybe candle-light dancing, a late-night movie, dessert, and anything else I can think of to keep you around.”

  She snuggled back into the seat of his car. “Sounds perfect.”

  At last, a beautiful moment with Ryker. She knew it wouldn’t last, so she decided to enjoy every second until he had to fly out again or she was called back on set.

  Chapter 19

  Ryker held open the door to his Annapolis home. Everything stood out to him in a new way, details he’d never noticed. The stairs going up to the front door were beautiful, aged and classic, and the tile matched the color of the wood on the door perfectly. He stood taller, proud of his home.

  “This is stunning.”

  “It’s small. But I love living here. When I’m not home with the parents.”

  She laughed. “True, I bet you’re there quite a bit too.”

  “Of course.” They stepped into the front hall, stairs and a balcony leading up in front of them. “Let’s move through here.” He led the way. “The house was built over one hundred years ago. Completely renovated.”

  “It’s incredible.”

  He led her to the library. “This room was kept with all original flooring and walls.” He opened the door. “Even the nicks and scratches were allowed to stay.”

  She stepped in and turned in a full circle before she said anything. Then she gravitated over to his favorite corner.

  He smiled. “Antique book collection.”

  “Tell me about them.”

  He pulled out old titles, gently opening to the title pages. He appreciated her sincere awe at some of them. Then he opened one of his favorites. “And this one. Check it out—signed.”

  She ran her finger across a signature. “Babe Ruth.” She turned to him, eyes wide with appreciation. “How did you get this?”

  He gently closed it and replaced it on the shelf. “I got this from someone who got it from someone who got it from Babe Ruth himself.”

  “Whoa. So he actually touched it?”

  He loved this woman. “He did. Each of the SixPack has been here to touch it too. Good luck.”

  She nodded. “Incredible.” She trailed her fingers along the other books on his shelves. “One time I saw a scarf Audrey Hepburn wore on set.”

  “Like in a museum?”

  “No, on set. It was there for inspiration. The female lead got to take it to her trailer if she wanted.”

  “And you did.”

  “Of course.”

  “That’s awesome.”

  “She was amazing.”

  “Who else do you admire?”

  “Jane Seymour.”

  “Really?”

  “Are you surprised?”

  “Well, no, but anyone more recent?”

  She shook her head. “Of course, they all have their strengths. But the older ones, I love them. Doris Day. She’s darling. They had a presence, you know? Like once you saw Doris Day, everyone else kind of dimmed. Hugh Jackman is like that. Everyone around him dims.”

  Ryker thought Trista was like that too, but he didn’t think she would believe him. So he waited. Maybe he could prove it to her. They moved out onto the balcony that ran the whole back of the
house. The breeze off the water was warm. Lights out in the harbor blinked at them.

  Ryker breathed in the smells of home. “I’ve wanted to show you this view for a long time.” She stepped up close to his side, and he wrapped his arm around her. “Too bad it’s not light out.”

  “This is nice. I’m not surprised that you live here. It’s classic and beautiful.”

  “There’s something cool about living in such an old place. I appreciate and respect what this house has been through.” He squeezed her. “But I’m starving. Let’s get going on the food.”

  “Oh, of course.”

  They hurried to the kitchen, and he gathered all the ingredients. “I actually put the flank steak in a marinade this morning, just in case.”

  “Awesome. Let’s get it out and get that ready. But first, we need to get the baked potatoes started in the oven.”

  They worked together side by side in a chummy, comfortable way. “Can you chop these?”

  “The onions?” Trista wrinkled her nose.

  “Oh, right. No onions.” When he wiggled his eyebrows, she laughed.

  “You’ve got to stab the potato before you stick it in the oven.” Trista held a knife up in what could have been a disturbing way.

  “I’ll let you do the honors. You look like you might need to get out some aggression.”

  She laughed. “Very funny.”

  Once the potatoes were cooking and the toppings were ready, Ryker poured them both something to drink. “This might sound odd, but I juiced this this morning.”

  “What is it?”

  “Orange and carrot.”

  She laughed. “Some people might have offered wine.”

  “Well, those people have little to no imagination.”

  “True.” She held up her glass. “Cheers.”

  “To many more such nights.”

  “Oh yes, I hope so. To many more.”

  The clink of their glasses made Ryker smile. He turned on the burner. “Time to grill the steaks.”