“Ignore her,” Ryan tells me. “She talks tough but she’s got the biggest heart of anyone in this city.”
“Trust me, I know. I am a firsthand recipient of that big heart. If it weren’t for Theresa, I don’t know where I would be right now.”
“She told me you’re staying with her. It sounds like a big change from that ranch you told me about,” he says with an irresistible grin.
I want to be offended on Theresa’s behalf and my own but I know it’s meant in good humor.
“Change is good,” I say with an air of confidence I don’t quite feel.
The pub is filled with the after-bar crowd and all of the food is deep fried and covered in cheese. I usually wouldn’t eat this kind of food if my life depended on it but this is the new me, I worked hard all day, and deserve a carb or two or ten.
“Why are you tending bar?” Ryan asks.
No beating around the bush here.
“I need a job and I need the money, New York is expensive,” I say knowingly. At the same time, I do my whole nervous smoothing down my hair thing. So I know I just gave away my insecurity about the situation.
“Whoa there, girl. I know you need a job and money but don’t you have a degree? There has to be something better you could be doing. Theresa and I are working there because it’s our best option, not because it’s desirable.”
“Speak for yourself, asshole,” Theresa says.
I’ve only known them a few days, but I feel a level of camaraderie with them that I never felt with Ella or my other girlfriends. I know that I can be honest with both of them and while they may tease me, they aren’t going to hurt me.
I can’t let myself be distracted by romantic notions of living paycheck-to-paycheck in the city and experiencing the real world. I have a degree from a great university and it would be unfair to both myself and my parents who paid for it to let it go to waste. And now that I know Ryan and Theresa, I would feel guilty about not using a degree that they never had the opportunity to get.
On the other hand, right now, this is exactly where I want to be. I have been doing what other people want and expect for as long as I can remember and it feels so good to do what I want for a change.
I realize that Theresa is the kind of friend I have always wanted. She is there for me in a way I could only pretend my other friends were. To stay strong, I only have to remind myself that in two short days, Theresa has proven herself to be a more genuine friend than Ella ever did. Her friendship is without artifice and she doesn’t want anything from me. I know this because I have nothing to offer except my friendship in return.
Ryan, on the other hand, is an anomaly. In my confusion over Xavier, I thought Ryan was my knight in shining armor. Now I know I don’t need to be rescued and that I can take care of myself. But all of the above being true doesn’t change how I feel about him. Even now, when he’s sitting across from me at a table and pretending not to be looking at the hot girls that just entered the restaurant, he puts every cell in my body on high alert. For self-preservation though, I need to tell myself that I don’t care about him and that I am here for the sole reason that for the first time in as long as I can remember, I am happy.
10
Ryan
I can’t shake how impressed I am with Aria and the choices she has made for herself. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not looking to make her my girlfriend or anything. I am perfectly happy with my life. But that doesn’t change how amazing she is. I love that she is hell bent on blazing her own trail and not relying on the privilege she was born into.
There is also the matter of how strongly my body responds to her. Even when she is halfway across the room and I’m dancing for a crowd of excited women, I want her. But Aria and I aren’t going to hook-up. She is too inexperienced and for lack of a better word, virginal, for me to take advantage of. Additionally, and this is not something I’m familiar with, but I’m not sure she is buying what I’m selling.
I decide to spend the day working on a new routine. After what happened last night, getting distracted by Aria and dropping the ball on stage, I really need to bring my A-game. Or better yet, I need to take my show to an entirely new level of eroticism and physicality.
I scroll through my song list on my computer and decide to go with something more rock n’ roll than I normally choose. Hip-hop and R&B is what everyone choreographs their routines to at the club. I want to design a show around a classic rock piece. The kind of song everyone knows the words to and that elicits fond memories.
I decide on Foreigner’s “Feels like the First Time.” It’s not original, given it was in the movie about male strippers. I am Ryan Temptation after all. And I am going to make it feel like the first time for all the ladies in the house.
Since I’m going with classic rock, I decide on a hard look and pull out some black leather pants and a vest.
A once-over in the mirror tells me that I definitely need to make a stop at the tanning salon before heading to the club tonight. The whole spray-on-tan thing is not my favorite, but after a long winter in New York, it’s a necessity. It’s always good to be bronzed, and it helps define my muscles beyond their normal look.
I want to incorporate a lot of floor work in for tonight. I roll the leather vest down my arms and off my back and bend my torso back as I pull it off. It’s like doing the limbo and it requires a lot of muscle control, but it looks hot on stage. I thrust my pelvis towards the imaginary audience, teasing them into screaming for more. I flip over into a push-up stance with my legs wide apart. I keep my movements slow and languid, stretching out the forward thrusts with my body hovering over the floor.
My mind wanders to Aria and I picture her beneath me. Her hair spread in a halo behind her, eyes closed, and lips parted. I want her so badly that just the image of her causes my cock to stiffen, and I can almost feel her beneath me, matching my rhythm.
A loud knock at the door pulls me out of the zone. I roll onto my back and wipe the sweat off with a towel. That woman has put some kind of spell on me. I can’t believe just thinking about her has me hard and needing release. I may have to rub one out before going to work tonight. I really don’t need a repeat of what just happened occurring on stage. Especially if Aria will be there working.
Whoever is at the door knocks again, but it is harder and with more urgency. The music is loud, maybe too loud. It is probably a neighbor or the super. I don’t bother putting my flannel back on but answer the door in my muscle tee.
Two men in suits are on the other side of the door. I am thrown off balance by the unexpectedness of them.
“Ryan Trent?” the taller one asks.
They don’t look threatening and their suits look inexpensive and ill-tailored; I suspect that they are government employees. I try to think of anything I should be worried about but nothing comes to mind.
“Yes, I’m Ryan. What do you want?”
“I’m afraid we have something rather unfortunate to discuss with you, son.”
The shorter one cuts in. “Mr. Trent, would it be alright with you if we came inside to talk?”
I consider saying no, that whatever they have to say they can do from the hall. But what would be the point? Besides, I would much rather receive bad news in the privacy of my own living room as opposed to the hallway, where the neighbors could overhear.
I open the door wider to give my consent and they follow me inside. I pour myself a glass of water and then collapse into my black leather armchair. I don’t offer them water but I do tell them to have a seat.
“I am Gary Little,” says the smaller one. The taller one introduces himself as Todd Feeney.
“We are associates at McBride and Smith.”
That I have no idea who they are must be clear to them because they continue without waiting for a response.
“Martha and Randall Trent, they are your parents, correct?” They look to me for confirmation.
A heaviness settles in my chest and I nod silently.
; “Your parents procured our services for the drafting of their wills some years ago. We would have informed you sooner, but we have had some trouble tracking you down. There was an accident, a fire, nine days ago. Your parent’s trailer, it burned to the ground. The fire … it happened with both of your parents inside.”
The heaviness that had settled onto my chest turned into a cannon ball. The oxygen leaves the room and my ears are ringing. My parents and I were not what I would ever describe as close. But whatever problems we had, they were still my parents. And other than Theresa and Mickey, they were the only people I had in the world.
The two suits look at each other, unsure of what to say next. I don’t think they have anything prepared beyond telling me that I’m now an orphan.
“Mr. Trent?” short and paunchy finally says. “Are you alright? I know this is sudden and unexpected.”
“It’s fine, I’m fine. What do you need me to do? Are there papers you need me to sign?”
“Um yes, there are papers,” says Feeney.
He unzips a messenger bag and hands me a stack of files.
“In addition to reading over the papers and moving forward with the estate,” says short and paunchy, “you need to,” he pauses and clears his throat. “You need to decide what to do about their remains. They are currently at the coroner’s office in Boston. They don’t hold the remains for long. I need to be clear on this, because it took us some time to track you down.”
“So you have until next Monday to decide,” cuts in Feeney, shooting a scowl at his tactless cohort.
“We know this is a lot to take in,” he says with no expression whatsoever.
“Yes, it is unexpected. You are saying I only have a few days to read this over,” I gesture towards the papers that are now lying on the coffee table.
“And I have what?” I count out on my fingers from today until Monday. “Five days until the city disposes of their remains?”
Both lawyers look horrified. It is obvious that they want to be absolutely anywhere but here in my living room, delivering what they must believe to be devastating news. I decide to cut them some slack. It’s not their fault that my parents were somewhat lacking in the whole unconditional, we will support you no matter what, part of being a father and a mother.
“I appreciate you taking the time to find me and personally deliver the news. I have a few days. Let me look everything over and I will be in touch.”
I stand up to let them know that their visit is over and I’m done talking to them. They respond accordingly and file towards the door.
I can’t imagine how I would have felt if I found out almost a year from now when I make my annual call to my mother on her birthday. I can hear the ladies buzzing about it in the trailer park. “It took 10 months before that black sheep of a son even realized his parents were dead.”
The lawyers are gone and I am left alone with Foreigner playing on repeat and a sheath of papers I have no idea what to do with.
I am devastated at the sudden realization that I am an orphan. I remember my mother telling me when I was only six how she felt when her mother died. It doesn’t matter that I haven’t spoken to them in months; all at once, I miss them.
I pick up the stack of papers and don’t know where to start. I guess page one is as good a place as any.
I skim the pages and they mean nothing to me. The words start to blur together and I feel like I’m back in high school. It’s not as though my life’s ambition was to be a stripper. I am here in this world of erotic dancing because school was so difficult for me. I was never able to follow what the teacher was saying in class and homework was an absolute joke.
I have tried to avoid reading anything that wasn’t for pleasure, rather than work, since leaving school, and I had planned on keeping it that way. But with the stack of papers in front of me, I realize that no matter your plans, things come as they will and you have to deal with them. And I will deal with them. I just have to figure out how. I can’t read the papers that they left for me and I don’t know who to go to for help.
I may not understand what these papers say but I know enough that I need to figure out what they mean.
11
Ryan
I don’t know what to do or who to call. I am even more alone in the world than I already was. The worst part is that it happened nine days ago and I didn’t even know. I can’t bear to imagine my mom trapped in the burning trailer, unable to escape the flames. The only consolation I can give myself is that she was probably passed out and died from smoke inhalation before the fire reached their bedroom.
The thick stack of legal papers is mocking me from the coffee table. I can’t remember the last time I sat down to read something. It’s not that I am stupid or don’t understand things; it’s just that reading has never come easy to me. In school, I was always far better at math and numbers than I was reading.
It was my struggle with school and no one to turn to for help that caused me to drop out before graduating. Some of my teachers offered to tutor me after school; one even wanted to have me tested for a possible learning disability, but at the time I was way more worried about my friends teasing me than I was about making things better. I felt like a lost cause, and as a result, I never managed to sort out why I have so much trouble reading.
I pace back and forth across the whole of my living room. The heavy motorcycle boots I had on for dance practice make loud clunks with each step. Despair is coursing through me. My parents are gone and I can’t even read the paperwork I need to fill out to have their bodies laid to rest. I want to punch something or someone, but most of all I want this feeling of futility to go away.
I could go to the law office and ask for help on what the papers say. But there is no way I’m doing this. I have too much pride to walk in to those offices and let those snobby suits find out I can barely read. I would end up arguing with them if they tried to walk me through papers like I’m some kind of helpless child. On top of it, I don’t know if I can trust them. Everyone knows lawyers are greedy and out for themselves.
Just when I’m about ready to lose it, a solution dawns on me. Aria! Aria can help me. She went to college and it was a good school. I also know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I can trust her. That girl doesn’t have a dishonest bone in her body and she’s smart. She may be completely clueless as far as street smarts go, but I have plenty enough of that for the both of us should it ever be necessary.
I’ve been to Theresa’s plenty of times, so I decide not to call before heading over. I wrap a rubber band around the stack of papers and throw them into my gym bag. I do a quick change into a nice button down and a pair of dark wash jeans. I need Aria to take me seriously. I don’t want to show up on her doorstep looking like a bum or a player trying to score.
I take the subway instead of a cab or Uber, because for all I know, these papers could be informing me that I have to pay off my parents’ debt and owe thousands of dollars I don’t have. At the very least, I will have to pay to have them buried.
My parents were both as alone in the world as I am. They were only children and all of my grandparents are deceased. Three of them were gone before I was born. My Grandma Trent was a great person and the only adult I trusted as a kid. But she succumbed to lung cancer a few years ago after a lifetime of smoking.
It’s not something I would ever admit to Mickey or the other guys but knowing you are alone in the world does help to put things in perspective.
Meeting Aria, having such an intense physical reaction to her, and then actually enjoying talking to her, has also helped to put me in a different mindset. I have come to realize that there can be more to my interactions with women than one-night stands and multiple orgasms. There might be something behind this whole relationship thing, if it’s with the right person.
I knock on Theresa’s door like I’m a cop showing up with a warrant. Way to start off on the right foot buddy, I tell myself.
Theresa flings open the door and
scowls at me.
“What are you doing here?”
“It’s nice to see you too, Theresa. How are you on this beautiful morning?”
“I’m as good as I ever am.” She folds her arms across her chest and bars my entrance.
“Hey, I know things have been weird over the last couple of days and I’m probably not your favorite person right now but I need to speak with Aria.”
“She’s not here,” Theresa barks at me.
“Ryan,” Aria calls, coming up behind Theresa. “How are you? Is everything okay?”
Theresa throws me a death stare but she moves to the far end of the apartment.
“Everything is fine,” I say.
This isn’t true and I can see from her expression that Aria knows it. Nothing is fine, least of all me.
“Aria, I’m here because I need to ask you for a favor. Something happened to my parents.” I choke out and I don’t know how to continue.
“Ryan, what happened?” She glances over her alabaster shoulder at Theresa.
Theresa is watching us, and she is wearing a scowl that would put a Catholic nun to shame.
“Why don’t we go to the diner we ate at last night? You can tell me what’s going on.”
I knew Aria was the person to go to for help. I knew it even though I only met her a few days ago. There is something special about her, and it’s more than her long legs and crystal blue eyes. She is the person you call when your world implodes and you are at a loss as to what to do. She is the kind of steadfast person I haven’t had in my life since Grandma Trent died.
After a quiet walk to the diner, we take a booth in the rear of the restaurant and I ask her to look over the papers without telling her why. She gives me a quizzical look, but doesn’t question why I am asking for her help.
She spends about twenty minutes flipping through the pages. Her eyes are red and teary when she looks up at me.
“Your parents. I’m so sorry, Ryan.”
Line of Scrimmage: A Secret Baby Sports Romance (Pass To Win Book 2) Page 24