The bathroom. Slipping her phone into her purse, she made her way to the bathroom. As soon as she was locked in a stall, she pulled it out and turned it on with the volume off. All the notifications came streaming in.
Ryker had texted her during all his breaks.
“Hey, babe.”
“Thinking about you.”
“Is your co-star hot? I forgot to ask.”
“He can’t be as cool as I am.”
He went on and on. And her grin started to hurt her face. The intercom turned on. “Five minutes to places.”
She typed quickly. Rebel Trista here, sneaking in some contraband time on the phone to say thank you for being you. I love you. One month until red carpet weekend.
She turned off her phone and slipped it back in her purse. They’d said I love you before she left, but that was before she’d felt the intense longing for even the tiniest hint of Ryker back in her life, before she’d felt like she even knew what love was. She was thrilled to be in this film, but nothing in her life was as rich or full when he wasn’t in it.
When she walked out of the bathroom, the director was waiting for her. She wondered if the guilt was written on her face.
He didn’t say anything about suspected phone usage during work hours and the relief washed over her.
“This next scene will be much easier on you than the last. This time we just need happy. But we also need energy. You up for that right now? Or would you rather do some stills or solo scenes where you’re thinking?” He waited. “Your call.’
She smiled. That tiny break with Ryker had been energizing. “Let’s do the happy scene. But let me get some orange juice.”
He nodded then called scene numbers to his team.
They worked what her director called the happy scene and it took fewer takes than everyone thought it would so he called it a night--early.
Tyrel reached for her hand. “Want to get dinner?”
“Yes, I’m starving.”
She expected everyone to join them as usual, but Tyrel led her away, and she suspected this might be more of a single situation than she wanted. “Let’s grab the others.”
“They’ve got plans. Besides, Palmino suggested we go and unwind. Not talk shop. Just do something fun.”
She calculated the time in Baltimore. Ryker was in a game for a few more hours. “Okay. That sounds great, then. What do you have in mind?”
“Well, for starters, food.”
She laughed. “Exactly.”
He led her to one of the cars they had on set, and a driver took them to a quaint-looking restaurant in a brightly colored house on the canal.
“This is lovely.” Behind the house, long narrow boats went by with paddlers, like she imagined they did in Venice. “Are those gondolas?” The ends curved up high, with ornate carvings and each had a man dressed in bright costume using an oar.
“They are. Like the ones in Italy. I thought we could get a canal tour after dinner?”
“Oh, I needed this. It was driving me crazy being stuck on set so much while we’re here in this beautiful country. Don’t let me leave here without touring the Van Gogh Museum.”
“We’ll go together.” He seemed cheerful, friendly. There was nothing overly suggestive in his manner with her. If anything, he was chummy, and she definitely felt close to him. They had to work through so much emotion together, there was an easy camaraderie. Perhaps she had found another friend.
They were seated overlooking the water, and the twinkling lights on the houses and shops that lined the canals were magically enchanting. Dinner was delicious and the chocolate was swoon worthy. Melting on her tongue was not a good enough description of the creamy experience of eating one of their truffles.
Tyrel sat back in his seat. “Thank you for doing this tonight.” His eyes sincere, disarming.
“I appreciate it. Honestly, I don’t have many friends.”
He shook his head. “I get it. I don’t have many friends either.”
She used to not have any at all. Thinking about Ryker and Bree and the Stone family made her smile. “Well, that’s sounds pathetic.”
“You saying I’m pathetic?”
“A little.” She grinned.
“Well, you said it first.”
“True. This is nice, though. I always welcome more friends. Do you think we’ll be friends after the shoot is over?”
“I’m game if you are.”
‘I’d like that.” Her hungry soul clung to the idea.
They paid and made their way out to the water. “Our guide should pick us up right here.”
A man with an over-sized canoe waited for them at the water’s edge.
Tyrel helped her step into the boat and then sat across from her.
The water lapped up against the boat, the sound of the man’s paddle dipping in and swirling around soothed her. His deep, mellow voice explaining the homes and bright spots of the city lulled her into a sense of safety.
Tyrel scooted over to her side and encouraged her to lean into him. The night air felt soothing. When she rested her head on his shoulder, she soon fell asleep.
Tyrel nudged her. “Trista, we’re done.”
She forced her eyes open. Tyrel’s large green eyes were close to hers, smiling. “Good morning, beautiful.”
Her mouth spread in a sleepy smile. “Good morning.” She stood. “Thank you.” She waved to their tour guide and hardly heard his answer.
They walked along as Trista tried to clear her mind. “I must be more exhausted than I realized. I’ll be excited to fall into bed tonight.”
Tyrel guided her along the water’s edge. “Let’s walk for a minute, clear our heads. The car will meet us up ahead.”
The night air was warm. Something about the canal and the couples walking slowly by the water was magical. “This has been an awesome evening. I needed to recharge.”
“Me too.” He stopped at a railing along some decking that looked out over a wider space in the canals. They stood close, and Trista enjoyed the camaraderie. Tyrel turned to her. He stood close. He reached up and put a piece of her hair behind her ear. He whispered something.
So she stood on tiptoe to listen. His whispers caressed her ear with soft words. “You are stunning; you make magic on camera. I’m so much better with you.” Her body hummed in response. Her loneliness called out to his nearness, the comfortable way they could talk together. He whispered, his lips barely brushing her ear. “Friends?”
She nodded. “Friends.”
Then he pressed his lips to the small space under her earlobe, and she gasped, backing away.
“Friends?” His quirked up an eyebrow.
“Friends. But my friends don’t usually kiss me.”
“You sure? I’ve seen Cassie in makeup kiss your cheeks. Thomas in hair kisses your forehead.” He stepped nearer. “And this friend found that soft piece of skin right there just begging for his lips.” He grinned. “I promise I’m not trying to start anything here. But I’m an affectionate guy. It’s nothing permanent, I just feel close to you. We share a connection.”
That wasn’t gonna work for Trista. “Save your brand of friendliness for someone without another person in their life. I have someone. He’s special. And he wouldn’t be too thrilled about your lips being anywhere near my skin. She didn’t want to cause an uncomfortable breach between them when they would have to work closely together on camera. “Friends?” She held out her hand for him to shake. “This is about as affectionate as I plan to get.” She tilted her head, hoping to soften her abrupt response.
He didn’t pursue anything further, so she let it pass. But her skin tingled where his soft mouth had given her a bit of attention, and she realized what loneliness could do to a person.
He bowed his head with a smile. “Always. I appreciate your honesty. Let me know if you’re feeling lonely. Like I said, no ties, just a couple people being affectionate.”
Was Ryker feeling the same way? What if he had girls comi
ng on to him and they weren’t trying to be only friends? If she were being honest with herself, she knew what Tyrel really wanted. But she wasn’t available to him in that way. Friends or not, Tyrel would never have access to that kind of intimacy.
As she and Tyrel climbed into the car, she had never wanted her hotel room more. She couldn’t wait to curl up in bed with Ryker’s voice at her ear.
She said good night to Tyrel without more than a quick hug and then hurried to her room. She brushed her teeth, crawled into bed, and slid her finger over Ryker’s face to call him. Her phone rang, and her heart skipped. Two times, three, and then his voice. “Hey, you’ve reached Ryker…”
“Hey. Good night.” She hoped her whisper was audible. That was all she had the energy to do. She let the phone drop onto the pillow next to her, then she curled up on her side and closed her eyes.
Chapter 25
Ryker opened the door to his house, suddenly much larger than last time he was there, and darker too. He tossed his keys on the front table and moved to the balcony at the back of the house. Finally, he would let himself check texts from Trista. He went kind of crazy if he let himself look every hour or so, because she just wasn’t on her phone most of the time. But when he opened his phone, he saw he’d missed a call. Her soft voice tore through his heart. He whispered back. “I love you.” She sounded so tired, so incredibly empty.
Everything in him, his very breath that filled his lungs in short rasping efforts, wanted to drop everything, rush to her, and fill her with goodness, with love, with hope, with reassurance. He could do it. Easy. Buy a ticket right now and go.
But he had a game tomorrow.
For the first time ever in his life, a foreign emotion trickled through him, threatening everything he’d ever felt about baseball. And it wasn’t pleasant.
Resentment.
For the tiniest moment, he wished he didn’t have his game, wished he could fly across the ocean to Amsterdam instead, and that moment left him shaken.
He stood up, ready for a hot shower to pound some sense into his brain. He fought against the desire to leave everything he’d ever loved to chase the woman he loved across the world. As he stepped into the shower, he fisted his hands and welcomed the water on his face. One fact remained, even in all the craziness. He couldn’t be with someone who made him wish he wasn’t playing ball. It was rule number one in Ryker’s dating world. Rule number one.
Maybe it was time to let her go.
When he got out of the shower, he calculated the time difference over in Amsterdam and knew it would be many hours before he would hear her voice again. Unless he changed the way he thought about this whole separation, he might go crazy before then. He pondered what he should do. He had to fix his brain.
Time to go for a run.
Heading out the door, he pounded down the street in front of his house. He was many miles into his run before he dared work through things in his mind. The first thing that needed fixing was his brain. Then he’d worry about his heart. First thing he knew. Baseball was important to him. Next. People were more important than baseball. He had always stuck by that. His parents, Bree, the kids, people were the motivation, people were more important than the game, just inherently. Next. The people closest to him needed to understand his need to play ball so that baseball and people were never conflicting options in his life. And finally. Baseball would not last forever in his life. He’d age out someday and when he did, he wanted a life to live after. He wanted to nurture relationships on his baseball journey so that he wasn’t a lonely old has been when the journey was over.
He turned up a street that led him along the water. So where did that leave him with Trista? Watching the boats out in the bay, he knew, first and foremost, he needed to have a better mindset about her. She was far away. She would come back. They would figure things out then.
In the meantime, he needed to live and let live.
He pulled out his phone. Hey, I’ve got a week of games again. Maybe talk Sunday? She was often free Sundays. They could just plan on the weekly thing. And then he wouldn’t agonize over missing her during the week. Just sending that text gave him a sense of freedom. He breathed deeply. He could do a weekly thing for her. The rest of the days were his to focus on what he needed to. He could spend time with friends, enjoy life, and give an hour or so to Trista on Sundays. He snapped his phone back on his arm and finished his run. That seemed like the best option to smack some sense back into his brain.
After another shower, he headed to the stadium, looking forward to the game. He punched his mitt—better. He breathed in the smell of the field and smiled. Better. He’d found his joy in the game. He jumped in the air. Rabbit was back. He reached into his pocket and felt nothing there. He paused, shuddering for a moment, but then he shook his head. Nope, it belonged where it was. He’d be fine.
He asked one of the trainers to start sending him grounders. Then he ran out to first, ready to own his space. He missed the first two and then scooped up every one after. He asked for popups next. By the time the team arrived and fans started filing in, he was in his zone, focused and ready to play.
Coach was furious. “Do I want to know what’s wrong with every one of you?”
Ryker returned his glare. He knew he’d been half the problem today, and he couldn’t say what had caused it. He’d missed easy plays. He ran like he had weights on his legs. He had actually tripped a guy and gotten a penalty. So many rookie mistakes. But it wasn’t just him. No one could hit a ball off the pitcher today. The best they had done were a couple bunts and some walks. Their outfielders missed easy outs. Really, Ryker had never seen his team do worse, never really played on a team that had been so bad.
Coach went on and on, and Ryker began to zone him out. A deep feeling of dread started to crawl around in his gut. His lucky rock. Was there something to it after all? He hadn’t dared test it out before, with so much evidence that it did something for him. But now, the very game he noticed its absence, things started falling apart?
He shook his head. Ridiculous. But he’d always wondered. Was there nothing more to him than just luck? Did this game prove that all he’d been given could be taken away, just like that?
When the coach finally left them to brood, Ryker called out, “Who’s up for Danny’s?”
Every guy was in. After that beating, they needed to let loose a little bit. They showered and took off together. Ryker had missed this. His team, the guys. Nothing could beat the SixPack, but his Blue Jays were cool. They stepped into Danny’s together, nearly taking over the bar. Ryker grinned as every female eye in the place turned to check them out.
Music played. People danced. The place was upscale enough and relaxed enough to be just what Ryker needed. The guys immediately started in on the drinks. They had a day off tomorrow, but Ryker decided no drinks. Dancing was fair game. Conversation was fair game. But that’s where it ended.
The guys set up a game of pool in the corner and waved him over.
“Rabbit, we need your rock. We got bets going on this.”
Perfect. He hadn’t told any of the guys that the rock was somewhere across the ocean, hopefully being put to good use. He joined them. “What do we have here, fellas?”
“You’re up.”
They asked him to break. Ryker grabbed a stick and put his ball in just the right spot at one end of the table. A couple girls smiled, leaning over his end of the table. They seemed nice, no nonsense, dressed well. He laughed at himself. Creepy people wore nice clothes too. But he couldn’t help his opinions about the well-dressed.
He got ready to hit the ball, leaning forward, eyeing the triangle on the other end of the table. The girl on his right leaned closer. “Mohib over there always wins.”
Ryker turned to her. She had nice eyes, a pretty smile. A conspiratorial glint and tease lit her face. If he didn’t have Trista, he might have explored a few dates with her. He winked. “Thanks for the tip.” He pulled back his stick and sent the ball down
into the triangle, sinking three balls in the process.
“Ooh. He might not win today.” She seemed pleased with him, and he had to laugh. So she was competitive. Well that made two of them.
He hit and sunk the next three balls, feeling good about his skill versus the rock’s luckiness. Then he missed one and the turn passed to Trent.
He backed up to the wall, the girl following. “I would love to know the name of my helpful informer.”
She laughed. “Lucy. And yours?”
“I’m Ryker.”
“The one they call Rabbit?”
“The one and the same.” Here they came, questions about his nickname.
But she only said, “Good to meet you. What is it that you say to all the guys when they’re on your base?”
“Ha. You noticed that?”
‘Yes, you’re always saying something. And sometimes they react and turn back, none too happy about it.”
Nickel called over. “Ryker’s giving them words of wisdom, that’s what.”
Lucy looked confused.
“It depends on the person. Everyone gets their own quote.”
The girl on the other side of him had been silent until now, but now she moved closer. “I’m Tiff. Do you think you could share a quote for me?”
Lucy stepped slightly in front of Tiff, blocking her view. “Oh, me too.” Lucy smiled. “Like we were players on base.”
Ryker heard someone snort. He laughed. “You know who’s really great at all these quotes now?”
“Who?”
“Nickel there, on second base. Ask him for a quote just for you.”
Her eyes lit, and Tiff sauntered over to a grateful second baseman.
It was Ryker’s turn again. He stepped away from the wall and sunk the rest of the balls, winning. Lucy had wandered away he was grateful to notice. He headed over to the dance floor. They were finishing up a line dance. As soon as he joined them, the music changed, and the slow beat had him turning in a circle, looking for a table. A sweet-smelling woman with thick, dark hair put hands on his shoulders. “I’m LeeAnn. You wanna dance?”
Flirting With First Page 17