The smile on his face was about everything except comfort. He knew what he was doing to me. Everything about him made my brain shut down. It was amazing I could stand up at all with his thick neck, big chest, and beautiful blue eyes right in front of me.
“Please don’t be mad at me.” His hand squeezed my shoulder.
“I waited for you to talk to me from the start of the season." I folded my arms. "You make one appearance after my birthday, and of course never called me like you said you would. Thank you for the charm, by the way. I'm looking for a bracelet for it, but need to . . . do you know where I should look? Where did you buy it? Should I look there first?”
His easy smile played to the corners of his mouth, and the fire in his eyes danced with mischief.
“God, I love watching you. You’re such a defiant, fiery woman. Don't you know I've never stopped wanting to be with you? I'm here because you're ready.”
“Ready for what?” I asked. “You? You come and go like . . . I don't know what. I mean, the way you express yourself, revealing all these deep feelings and then you fade away . . . this is all a joke, right? You’ve just been playing a little game, haven't you?”
Silence.
His eyes never wavered from mine.
“Well, I’ve got news for you.” I've got to speak up, say something! “I don’t want be the punch line to your pranks. Whatever you’ve got planned, I’m wise to you, Ryan Tilton.”
“I have plans, but no pranks,” he smiled. "Not yet anyway."
“You're not funny. How do I get out of here?” Don't smile. Don't laugh. Just look straight ahead.
“That way,” he pointed. “Do you want me to walk you?”
“Only if you behave; just be quiet,” I said. “Don’t say a word. Not yet anyway, he says. I'm ready with a few tricks of my own, buddy.”
"I welcome the challenge." His sexy laugh followed, injecting my knees with weakness.
Even the air around us seemed to ripple.
He took my arm to make sure I was steady and we walked to the exit. It wouldn’t be the last time he’d take care of me at the ballpark.
“Will you be able to cheer?” Ryan let go of my arm. I wanted to reach for him again, but controlled my impulse. "Jitters gone?" He placed his hand on the push bar of the exit door.
“My nerves have settled down now. At least I think so. Thanks for walking with me.”
“Your parents are throwing a little celebration for you after the game." He secured a bobby pin that had started to slip from my hair. "They invited me.”
“Yeah." I pushed the bobby pin so it held more tightly, but in reality, it was some silent acknowledgement that he'd touched me—and it was okay. "Don't worry. I know you have better things to do than come to my house. I’ll make up some reason why you can’t be there.”
“Oh, I’ll be there,” he confirmed. “I’ll be there just for you.”
“I don’t believe you, Ryan. I know your sarcastic sense of humor now. I’ll hear from you again in, what, about two weeks?”
He opened the door.
I walked out without looking back.
Chapter 18
Relatives and What They Say
As soon as I popped out from the tunnel, Tara, Alex and my cheer friends all gave me hugs and some of the fans in the bleacher areas clapped.
Jenise screamed for me, jumping with her arms in the air. When I saw my parents give me a thumbs-up, it seemed as if the entire stadium smiled . . . at least for the moment.
Jerry had also come to see me and after Mom invited him to dinner, he rode home with my family. My aunts insisted on cooking for all of us. For the first time in years, the dining room table was cleared and dusted. Place settings were arranged and delicious bowls and plates of food were served. As we sat around a table once again filled with happiness, I was encouraged to talk about my experience.
It was odd that another part of my life was transitioning at the same place where years earlier, I’d hid in fear. The tablecloth had finally been removed, but dark secrets remained underneath.
Could we ever deal with them openly?
Could I?
"It started when I was called up to management's offices, and . . ." I shared my story from beginning to end, except for omitting my meeting with Ryan in the tunnel.
My mother’s sister, my aunt Barbara, was a singer who performed in her church choir and in a few groups that had performed around the city. She’d also been written up in the paper and online in various blogs several times.
She had been a stay-at-home mom and her only son, Ray, was thirty-one.
His battle was heroin.
He was another person who formed a link in the chain of our family's addiction.
Auntie Barbara's smile and robust laugh hid a different story. Her first husband, a childhood friend of my father’s, and a heavy drinker, beat her and their son regularly. Remarried to her now husband of near twelve years, Charles, she no longer worried about bruises, but she picked another man who abused alcohol.
Always upbeat and never bashful about anything, we were in the kitchen together cleaning up.
“Have you had sex with any of the ball players?”
My jaw dropped at her question. Was my aunt really talking to me this way?
“You’re not a child anymore, Nicky. I can talk to you like this, can’t I?” She wiped a big bowl with a dishtowel.
“Um, yeah, but I haven’t had sex with any of them." Please don’t talk with me about this stuff.
“Don’t you want to?”
“Auntie, I’d prefer not to talk about it.”
“Are you still a virgin?” She leaned against the counter.
“Yes.” I began putting away the dishes.
"You need to get on birth control. You're awakening, aren't you?" I listened to her stories, appearing intrigued and patient on the outside, but squirmed uncomfortably on the inside. She explained that she’d moved to the big city to live with my mom, and her first experience with a boy had led pregnant and an abortion because she'd been so naive. She urged me to be careful so I wouldn’t make the same mistakes she had.
"Thanks for sharing, Auntie. I'll take your advice seriously." I grabbed her hand. "I'm being careful. Stanford's too important to take a chance on a boy." Hardly able to wait until she was done, I excused myself at the first opportunity and went back to the dinner party. "I'll just go and make sure all the dinner plates have been taken off the table."
After a few more hours of robust conversation, Jerry got up to leave. He said goodbye to my parents and family. I walked him to the door.
“You sure sounded great. Damn, Nick, that was really gutsy.”
“Thanks, I . . .” he leaned into my body and gave me a long kiss. “How did that feel?”
“Nice," I flirted. "I’ll have another please."
He turned on a sexy smile, kissed me again, and his conversation quickly turned personal. “I wish you’d just let go and be my girlfriend. It’s been weeks since prom. I feel like you're avoiding me. I want us to be together. Can't we just let go for the summer before we have to get serious with college? You like my kisses, don’t you?” Jerry's voice suddenly went low.
These low, soft voices, do they mean desire with all guys?
“I want to, but I’m not quite ready for sex like you seem to be and I don’t want to ruin our friendship or mislead you. I’ve seen it happen with my girlfriends. I can't promise anything yet, Jerry. I need more information and more time.”
“We won’t ruin anything,” he tried to reassure me. “I don’t mean to be flippant, but I think girls take the end of a relationship much harder than guys. My friends seem to be okay talking to their ex after the relationship is over, but you women won’t speak to us.”
I shrugged my shoulders not knowing what to say. That's because you're jocks screwing everything in sight.
“Can I kiss you again?” he asked seductively. I let him wrap me inside his arms and pull me against his body.
After several delicious kisses, we said goodnight.
It was only 8:30, but I was tired and excused myself from my family. I couldn’t wait to get to my room and be alone. I put on my pajamas and lay down with my arms behind my head, staring at the ceiling.
My mind raced.
I needed to be with myself so I could slow down.
As I did, I thought about Ryan. Why was he trying to mess with my head? How could it be anything more? I had nothing to offer. What could he want, except sex?
If I gave in, would that be so bad?
I could learn about sex from an experienced man. I assumed he had the choice of most any woman he wanted. From the stories Tara and Alex had told me and what I saw for myself at the ballpark, it seemed to be true; dozens of them waited by the dugout, hoping to catch his eye.
I dozed off and then woke to Mom knocking on my door.
“Nicky? Someone’s here to see you."
“Can you just tell whoever it is, that I’m in bed and I’ll talk to her tomorrow?” I turned over.
“It’s Ryan Tilton.” She opened my bedroom door. "I invited him but I didn't think he'd come." By her expression I knew she was excited he'd arrived.
My heart banged in my chest.
It was as if my whole body warmed and then went cold.
How dare he come to my home and involve my family in his joke! I wanted to tell him off. Whatever it was going to be between us—friends who played games with each other, doing the dance of push and pull, flirting and pretending to be serious, and then pulling back—I didn’t want my family involved in it.
“What time is it, Mom?"
“It's going on nine."
“I know he's waiting, but I need to freshen up. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
“Should I send him up to see you?” Her voice seemed disjointed as if she was lost.
“No!” I answered strongly and her head jerked a little. God no, what are you thinking? Are you okay? "I’ll be down later. He shouldn’t wait on me. Tell him that, okay? He shouldn’t wait.”
“He said he brought a certificate for you, and it’s signed by most of the Goliaths." Mom was obviously his messenger. "He also said he knows how much those things mean to you and you’d probably like to keep it for college.”
Ooh, that is sweet of him.
“I’ll be down in a little while.”
As she left my room, she mumbled, “Boy you’re crabby when you're tired. Someone like him waiting to talk with you and you can’t even get up?" She clicked her tongue and closed the door.
I spent several minutes trying to decide whether or not to go downstairs. Finally, I got up and washed my face, and threw on my robe and slippers.
Get ready Ryan Tilton. I’m going to let you have it.
Chapter 19
Letting Ryan Have It
“Here she is!” I couldn't decide whether Mom was relieved or excited when I walked into the kitchen. I could tell the hypnotic charm of my friend had won her over. “Ryan’s been so patient, entertaining us while waiting for you. Why didn’t you say you were more than friends?”
More than friends? What?
“Yeah, Nicky,” Jenise added. “Lucky you.”
Ryan smiled at her comment.
I stared at them both in disbelief, turned to my sister, still not sure I heard her correctly. “What?”
“Ryan told us how you’ve gone on a few dates as friends, and now you’re considering another level in your relationship,” Jenise summarized. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
My sister’s face was alive with curiosity, while my mother's echoed her concern from last year when she said, “I told you a twenty-five-year-old man could be interested in you.”
Dad said nothing.
I wondered if he was on his “edge.” He’d had a few glasses of wine with our relatives, and because of it, I couldn’t wait for Ryan to leave.
I’m going to walk you out of here, before everything comes crashing down.
Ryan pushed up from the table and stood alongside of me. He put his big arm around my shoulder and took over the conversation.
I could’ve jerked away, protested, or embarrassed him, but I was curious to listen to what he'd say. Only then, could I analyze his next move—and my next move.
I wasn’t completely sure of what was happening, or for that matter, what I wanted. So I played along in front of my family. Above all, I didn't want to upset them or bring a rash of questions my way. Stirring up anything to do with feelings in our house was never a good idea.
“Nicky's bashful about saying anything.” Ryan made his first move. “In fact, she didn’t believe me when I insisted I wanted to date her. Sometimes I think she still feels like I'm joking. I have a feeling I'll have a lot to prove to your daughter, but I will.”
Ooh, well played, Mr. Tilton.
“I thought this was the perfect time to tell your family about us, don’t you?” He turned to face me and waited briefly for my response.
I opened my mouth to begin my rant. Before I could say anything, he began again.
“I know she wasn’t expecting me to talk with you so soon about our plans.” His hand squeezed my shoulder. "Do you mind if I speak with her alone?"
“Of course not, Ryan,” Mom and Jenise said in unison. My aunts and uncles shook his hand, murmuring about how they'd just met a professional ballplayer.
“Well then, thank you for your hospitality, Young family.”
“Thanks for bringing dessert,” Mom said. "Perfect timing. The cake I made fell apart."
You brought dessert? That’s kind of . . . actually that’s more than cute. Damn, it’s tough to stay angry with you. But I will say what’s on my mind when I get you on my front porch.
“My pleasure. Mr. Young, don’t forget about those tickets. Jenise, in this short amount of time I can see you're a brilliant woman. I wish you the best in your architectural career. Mrs. Young, you have an incredible family.”
The smile on Mom’s face told me she hadn’t felt proud or been acknowledged in that way for a long time. All three of them stood up, shook his hand, and said goodbye.
He has a natural way of making people feel like they matter.
We walked through my front door with his arm around my waist. It was as if we’d entered into another world.
In a way, that’s just what happened.
When Ryan closed the door behind us, I could still hear the robust conversation inside my house.
“What are you doing?” I tried to pull away, but with only one arm he held me to his side. “It’s one thing to play a joke on me, but to involve my family—that’s not okay. Don’t you understand? You’re setting them up for disappointment." We’ve been disappointed enough. “The way you are, they'll have feelings for you, and then it’ll be a mess when everything falls apart. I mean, at first you were charming, and then, kind of funny in the tunnel, but there’s nothing humorous about dragging my family in to this.”
"Into what?" he smirked.
"That's the thing . . . my question exactly, and—"
“Just hear me out you fiery, passionate woman," he interrupted. "I can't tell you how much I love that you're ready to tell me off in your robe and pajamas."
“You don’t understand . . .” I couldn’t help it. I smiled. “I know I’m smiling, but I don’t think you’re funny at all.” Yes I do. It’s so hard to keep a straight face while looking at your endearing smile. “My family believes you, Ryan. They’ve been through enough and . . .”
He kissed my cheek.
A shockwave rushed through my body. My hand covered my cheek as if protecting the sweetness that had been placed on it.
“You can’t come and go like this. It's not fair. You keep me spinning like we're friends, then you tell me you’re going to open my eyes and I should get ready . . . what does all that even mean? I’m asking you nicely, please go and play your game with someone else. Plenty of women want to play. This one is done.”
“I’m
not playing any games.” He circled a strand of my hair around his index finger. “I’m . . .” Instead of finishing his statement, his hand moved to the back of my head and he pulled me to his soft lips.
Ooh, the aching in my belly. First Jerry and now you . . . and now you . . . and now—you.
“I wouldn’t have spent time with your family if I was playing a game. I told you what my intentions are and I’ve been careful to respect your boundaries." He ran his hands through his hair, pushing it back.
"Didn’t I make sure not to do anything out of line before you turned eighteen?"
"Yes, but—"
"I can sense the way your body responds. I sense her . . . know her." He caressed my arms.
"No, you—"
"You’re ready now, and here I am. You feel it, don’t you?” The back of his hand caressed my cheek.
“I feel—” I tried pushing away, weakly making a stand and asserting myself, but he kept interrupting with kisses, gentle touches, and his hands, which started to explore my body.
“Did you like my kiss?” he whispered.
I can’t move. What did I do to bring this on? Don’t get weak. Oh damn, I am weak. My resistance is draining away in buckets.
Everything inside my body responded to him. Horns and sirens were blaring, letting me know I was waking up.
“You know I liked it, Ryan, but please don't come and go any more. I can’t take the teasing, pretending to be friends and . . . it's too much torture.”
“Torture?” His voice rose in volume and he stood back a little to look at me.
Whoa!
“Torture for you? It’s been torture for me, yeah, but not you. You think I’m only playing a game. I’ve waited to have a day or a night—this night—for over a year and everything inside me has been aching for you. The hell I’ve been through . . . all I want to do is sweep you up in my arms and feel your energy, your light, and the warmth of your body. I’ve had to hold back with all the strength I had. I’m desperate to have you against me so I can hear your heart speak.”
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