His Best Bet_Uncensored

by Laney Smith

  Ryan motioned up and down, pointing to her body. “This isn’t it. You look . . . insanely gorgeous, by the way. Damn!” he smirked. “But, I’m not watching Nathan so you can go get on some guy that, number one, doesn’t deserve it. Number two, is never going to give you anything more than some venereal disease.”

  “I’m not going to sleep with him. Is that what you think?”

  “One thing leads to another. If he’s worn you down to this point, he’ll wear you down onto his bed, too. I’m not doing this,” Ryan stubbornly insisted. “I’m sorry. Hate me today. You’ll love me for it later, I’m sure of that.”

  “What difference does it make to you?”

  Ryan pursed his lips as he stared into her eyes. “You’re not stupid. I think I’ve been a little obvious.”

  “You have a girlfriend, remember?”

  Ryan scrunched his face as he shook his head. “Bullshit. I already told you she’s not my girlfriend.”

  Corlay sarcastically laughed. “Oh, that’s right! She wants you and you don’t even give a shit why. You can do it. That’s OK. But, me? I’m actually doing what I’m doing to gain something.”

  “Heh!” Ryan huffed. “Not today, you’re not. I gotta run. Have a good day.” Ryan had an ornery smirk plastered on his face as he turned and started for the door.

  “If you leave now . . . don’t come back here.”

  Ryan stopped in his tracks. Then, he chuckled as his chin slid in a sway over his right shoulder and he continued on his path. Corlay stood staring in disbelief, as Ryan opened the door and waltzed out. She stood, waiting for the door to open, again. Instead, she heard his car start up and the sound of engine growing fainter as he drove away. With her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open, she stared at the closed door. He was really leaving her, knowing she needed him.

  “Where’s Ryan going?” Nathan asked from behind her.

  “I’m so screwed!” she griped in an angry, throaty growl.

  “Ryan is going to be an inventor. He believes in your dreams, Mom.”

  “Yeah! Obviously! Then, tell me why he just left us,” she spouted. “Tell me why he’s refusing to stay with you today!”

  “Are you mad at Ryan?”

  “Yes, sweetie. I am very mad at Ryan.”

  Nathan went upstairs and Corlay heard him close his bedroom door. She felt bad for what she had said. She didn’t mean to tell Nathan that Ryan was refusing to sit with him. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings. She had to deal with her boss, first. Then, she would find a way to comfort her son.

  She took her phone from her purse and called her boss. As she expected, he threatened her job if she didn’t come in. Then, he threatened to file a disciplinary action in her employee file. Then, he threatened to fire her, again. He had no patience or sympathy for her situation.

  As Corlay listened to her boss rant and rave, guilt tripping her, Nathan was making a phone call of his own.

  “Get your butt back here, right now,” Nathan demanded. “I told you I didn’t want you to be friends with my mom. I knew it. Now she’s mad, you’re mad and I’m mad, too.”

  “Nathan, I have some things I have to do, today.”

  “Take me with you.”

  “I can’t do that today, buddy,” Ryan lied.

  “Remember what I told you?”

  “What did you tell me?”

  “That if you weren’t friends with my mom anymore, we couldn’t be friends, either. You’re not being a very good friend.”

  “I am. You just don’t understand that.”

  “Ryan, you’re going to make my mom cry. Get back here, a-mmediately!”

  “Nathan, you have to trust me. You’re my best friend. I’m trying to take care of you.”

  “I don’t ever want to speak to you again.”

  “I hope you don’t mean that. We have Little League plans. Remember?”

  “I hate baseball, now. I don’t want to be friends anymore.”

  “Will you take some time and think about it? Call me back this afternoon and let me know what you decide. We’ll figure it out from there, OK?”

  “I won’t call you ever again. I mean it, for real this time. Not for nothin’, never again.”

  “It’s OK to be mad at me, but I want -”

  The line went dead before Ryan could finish his sentence. He inhaled through his nose and exhaled heavily, a frustrated, growling sound escaping from his throat. Knowing he had no plans, or nowhere to be, he drove back to his parent’s house.

  ~TWENTY-FOUR~

  Ryan went to his room and fought the urge to return Nathan’s call. The urge was replaced by the need to find a house. He felt like a vagabond, drifting from one home to another. He had a place to stay at his parent’s house. However, it wasn’t his place. He also felt the need to speed up the greenhouse plans. He did feel guilty for keeping Corlay from work, almost.

  He smiled to himself as he replayed the image of her in that red dress, her loose curls bouncing as she stomped around in those sexy fucking shoes. He thought she was beautiful every day. This was different. This had him hot and he couldn’t quit thinking about the things he wanted to do to her. She went from “soft, tender, naturally beautiful” to “naughty, bad girl” overnight. He had thoughts before. Now, he had a whole new line of thoughts. There was no way he could let her go prancing in front of some womanizing, wanna-be playboy.

  Ryan took out his laptop and started searching through houses in the area. He searched houses out of the area, as well. As he scrolled through various listings, he called for a status update on the greenhouse search. As he sat on hold, there was a knock on his bedroom door.

  “Yeah?”

  The door opened and Rick stood in front of him.

  “What’s up, Rick?” Ryan asked with heavy sarcasm.

  His brother absently flipped his hands. “Uh, Mom said you were in here.”

  “Yeah? Well, seeing is believing.”

  “I’m going to ask you this one more time . . .”

  “I’m on the phone. Can you maybe wait?”

  “Did you or didn’t you sleep with Sasha?”

  Ryan sighed as he rolled his eyes and disconnected the call. He tossed the phone on the bed beside him and stared up at his brother. After a few moments of silence, Ryan stood and stepped face-to-face, toe-to-toe with his brother.

  “No, Rick. I never touched the woman,” he calmly answered. “Come on, man. You knew the answer before you asked me the first time, four years ago.”

  “I need you to know that I didn’t believe you, then. I haven’t believed you, since. She has insisted that Nicole was your baby since she was born. She looks just like you. I hate you every time I look at her. That test is supposed to come back, today. Are you worried about anything?”

  “No,” Ryan carelessly shrugged as he shook his head. “I . . . never . . . touched her.”

  Rick’s eyes filled with tears. “I miss my brother. I miss . . . I miss you. I don’t care what happened between the two of you that night. I just want to know the truth because I can’t deal with this, anymore. You’re back. You’re here. You’re my best friend. We should be making memories. We should be hanging out and doing the stupid shit we do. I just need to know the truth. Please, Ryan? Just tell me.”

  Ryan’s eyes locked on his brother’s. “Rick, nothing happened. She tried to kiss me a few times and I pushed her away every time. You’re my brother. You know me better than anyone. It never fucking happened, man. You know the truth.”

  Rick’s head bobbed, his voice cracking as reality hit him.

  “Nicky is mine?”

  Ryan smiled as he raised his eyebrows and tilted his head. “That is your baby.”

  Sadness swept over Rick’s face as he stared at the floor. “Why would she keep me from being happy about my child? She’s never backed off the story she tells. She pumps the same, tired lie. It’s not just you. Did you know that?”

  “What’s not just me?”

  “She�
�s told similar stories for every friend I’ve had over the past four years. She gets attention. I see it all the time. But, I also see how things she does might encourage that attention she attracts. I keep telling myself that it’s the price I pay for having such a pretty wife. We have a family. I don’t want to leave her,” Rick confessed. “But, I’m tired of being angry. She let me believe . . .”

  Ryan pressed his lips together and nodded his head as he sighed. “Yeah. I know. I can’t answer the questions you want answers to. But, I know my brother. I know you’ll figure this out, however that happens.”

  “It’s been four years, and other than the missed memories, it doesn’t feel like anything is lost. You look a lot older - a little uglier,” Rick teased, butting his shoulder into Ryan’s.

  Ryan chuckled, shaking his head. “I keep hearing that. Do I really look that old?”

  “It doesn’t matter. You’re still gonna be ugly.”

  “I can get around ugly. Old is going to be a problem.”

  There was an awkward silence as Ryan’s eyes scanned his room.

  “Oh! I interrupted your phone call. I just . . . I’m glad I did, actually. Wanna go grab a beer?”

  “Uh,” Ryan hesitated as he glanced at his computer.

  “We can do it another time. I’ve just missed hanging out.”

  “Give me a few minutes to make this call. Then, I’ll even buy the first round.”

  “Oh, no! You’re paying for all the rounds. I come up with the ideas. You pay for them. Remember?”

  “Typical of you, Rick. The more things change, the more they stay the same,” Ryan said with a cheerful smirk. “I missed this.”

  “Well, hurry up with that call. I’m thirsty. Plus, we’ve got four years to rehash. But, give me enough time to go play hero for Mom so I can tell her I fixed this,” Rick teased.

  “Suck up!”

  “You outshine me all the time, little brother. I gotta take what I can get.”

  Ryan smiled. “Get out of my room.”

  “Hurry up.”

  When Rick walked out of Ryan’s room, Ryan was thankful he and Rick were working on amending their relationship. However, he had another relationship that he was worried about salvaging. As he sat on hold, again, waiting to check on the status of his investment idea, his mind served up mental images of Nathan sitting beside him in the car, stretching his little body upward to be able to see out the window. He visualized the boy’s ears sticking out because of the oversized baseball cap on his head. He was just as proud of that kid as any father would be. Nathan had won his heart and Ryan knew his life would never be the same. Then, the memory of the anger in Nathan’s words barged in. Ryan clenched his eyes shut as he listened to the First Movement of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony being piped into his ear as he sat on hold.

  With his eyes tightly shut, the images of Corlay flashed through his head. The visions rapidly fired – the way she tossed her head to glance at him over her shoulder, the way she lowered her head, shyly peeking up at him, and then the look of disappointment on her face, just before he had turned to leave. He was ready to hang up and go join his brother when he finally heard a voice come over the line. Finally!

  Much to his dismay, there were no developments to report. Again, his broker promised to call as soon as there was new information. Ryan tilted his head back and breathed a sigh.

  “David, you find me what I’m looking for by five o’clock today and I’ll double your commission. I really need this. Please.”

  The voice coming through the phone seemed more upbeat. “OK! Sure, Mister Priest. I’ll get right on it.”

  “Call me as soon as you hear anything.”

  Ryan hung up and sat on the side of his bed, thinking about what he had just committed to. It was foolish, in a sense. However, it was worth it for the peace of mind it would give him and the happiness it would afford Corlay. More importantly, it was worth what it would mean for Nathan.

  ~TWENTY-FIVE~

  Ryan and Rick ended up in a local sports bar. The cold beer went down smooth and easy. There were six or seven screens around the bar, all of them showing various baseball games. Ryan sat with his back to the screens. The guys passed time talking about the past four years and sharing meaningless banter. Ryan found he didn’t have anything substantial to share other than when he talked about Nathan and Corlay. He avoided talking about baseball, the players, the teams or anything related to baseball for as long as he could. After a few beers, Rick started talking sports.

  “Johnson’s gonna take this season,” Rick said as he motioned to one of the television screens.

  Ryan smirked and shook his head. “No, he won’t,” he countered as he looked up at the television. “Look at him. He’s too jumpy. He can’t settle back, his stance is off, he’s all wrong. He’s not going take anything, but a tongue lashing, and not the good kind.”

  “So, who, then? Who’s it gonna be this year?”

  “Come on, Rick. I don’t get into that, anymore.”

  “I’m not asking you to,” his brother smiled. “But, if you know something that would help me out, I’d get in on it. I got a few bills. A little extra income - you know.”

  Ryan stood, throwing his head back as he poured the rest of his beer down his throat. He put the empty mug on the table and fished money out of his pocket. As his fingers flipped through the bills, he cut his eyes at his brother.

  “Dante,” Ryan said with a nod.

  “What? No way,” Rick countered.

  “Bet your ass,” Ryan smiled as he flagged the bartender.

  “Fifth year? You think so?”

  “His rookie year, he scared the hell out of me. Four years later? Hell yeah! If I were a betting man,” Ryan chuckled, “I’d put the greenbacks on that one.”

  “Do you miss it?”

  “What? Betting? Not a whole lot, no.”

  “The sport. The game. Do you miss it?”

  Ryan stood silent for a moment as he pondered the question. “Every damn day! I would’ve been fine with being cut loose back when they busted me. It’s a hard pill to swallow when you’re not guilty, but you’re guilty, anyway.”

  “Dude, you’ve got more money than you’ll spend in your lifetime.”

  “It’s not the money, Rick. I miss the game . . . the smell . . . the sounds . . . the lights . . . If I had caught that fucking ball, everything would be so different, right now.” He smacked his lips together. “Yep. I miss it.”

  The bartender approached with the zeroed-out bill and smiled at Ryan. “It’s on the house. You can drink in here anytime you want. All you have to do is come sign one of the shirts for the bar so I can frame it and put it up with those others,” he said as he pointed to t-shirts in frames, hanging on the walls.

  Ryan pressed his finger into his own chest. “You want me to sign one of those?”

  “You are Ryan Priest, correct?”

  “I am,” Ryan smiled.

  “Well, Priest, bless the water I have flowing around here. Sign a shirt for me. Make it out to Donnie, if you wouldn’t mind.”

  For a moment, Ryan felt as though he were back in the good ol’ days. Donnie snapped pictures as Ryan scribbled on the shirt. Naturally, the flashes attracted the attention of other patrons. He spent the next few minutes signing bar napkins and anything else he could write on, posing for pictures, and talking to some guy’s cousin on a phone that got shoved in his face. It felt good. Within minutes, photos were shared on social media and some of those photos even found their way to one of the local news outlets, announcing Ryan had returned to his hometown. Rather he wanted to or not, Ryan found himself talking baseball with half of the bar patrons.

  Ryan and Rick enjoyed a few more beers, courtesy of their friendly bar mates. It didn’t take long before his phone was ringing. When he ignored the calls, the text messages started rolling in. Scottie had gotten word that he was out and about and being celebrated as a celebrity.

  As he stood, leaning against the
bar, talking to some of the sports fans, he felt fingernails rake down his back. His eyes widened and he lifted his head, looking over his shoulder to see Scottie standing there, smiling her flirty smile. She smelled like heaven and looked like she probably fell from there, too. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and leaned in toward Ryan, nipping at his lip as she turned his baseball cap backwards.

  “Hey,” he said in a low, sultry tone. “Where did you come from?”

  She wrapped her arm around his waist, tucking her body under his arm. “I’ve missed you.”

  Ryan stretched his neck and smiled, “Have you?”

  “Mmhmm,” she hummed as she kissed his lips. “So much.”

  The flashes around them cleared Ryan’s head, rather suddenly. “Oh! The fame thing . . .”

  “Yeah. But, I have missed you.”

  Ryan put his hands on her hips and lifted her, sitting her on the barstool beside him. It was a gentle gesture, but one that kept her from hanging on him. He felt like he had given her a few minutes of whatever it was she wanted from that experience. People had taken photos of the two, together. She could flaunt that she knew him. Whatever!

  As people talked to Ryan, Scottie made sure she was as close to him as possible. She didn’t want to miss an opportunity to appear to be significant to him. As Ryan and Rick were absorbed in their own conversation, Scottie was talking to other patrons. Ryan had drunk enough that he didn’t care what she was talking about. He didn’t care whom she was talking to. She was happy. She was sitting beside him and seemed to be enjoying the attention she was receiving, whatever it was about.

  Finally, after about twenty minutes, she leaned over, sucking on Ryan’s earlobe. “Do you know what I want to do?” she whispered.

  Ryan glanced at her. “Yes.”

  “Do you want to try to break my bed?”

  He gently slapped his hand on the bar. “Yes, I do. Right now. But, when this buzz goes away, I’d just be kicking myself.”

  In a seductive voice she said, “Then, we better hurry up before the buzz is gone.”