You Before Me (4 page)

“I will be there,” I
confirm.

“Great. It starts at 7:30, but people
usually get there early. As early as six, sometimes.”

“I was once in high school too, you
know. I played football. I know how it goes.”

Owen laughs. “Yeah, but you're so
old,” he jokes. “I didn't know if you remembered.”

“I'll see you tomorrow,” I chuckle
before hanging up.

Now to find out what Ryan thinks. I
call her next.

“Twice in one day? I think someone is
smitten with me already,” she answers.

I laugh. “It's possible. I'm calling
because something has sort of come up.”

Her voice turns suspiciously curious.
“Sort of?” She questions.

“Do you like football?” I ask instead
of directly answering.

“That I do. I don't watch it
religiously or have a favorite NFL team or anything, but I'm always
up to watch a game.”

“That is just want I wanted to hear.
My baby brother plays with his high school, and I haven't been able
to see many of his games this year. He called, asking if I would
come watch. Does that sound okay to you? We can go out
afterwards.”

Silence is on the other end. Did I
lose her? I pull my phone away from my ear, but she's still there.
Just as I'm about to ask, she speaks.

“Sorry, I don't have a good excuse for
that silence. My mind started thinking. Anyway,” she drags, “that
sounds fantastic. I'm excited. What time should I be
ready?”

“Quarter to seven?”

“Can't wait! See you then, Gabe.” I
can hear the smile in her voice, which makes me excited too because
she has a beautiful smile.

* * *

At precisely 6:45, I'm standing
outside of Ryan's apartment door. She texted me earlier today to
let me know which one was hers. I knock twice, faintly able to hear
music playing. After the music stops, a moment passes before she
answers the door, wearing dark blue jeans and a white strapless bra
with a lace design over the cups, and she's currently brushing her
teeth.

“Are you ever fully clothed?” I ask
with a forced chuckle, trying my best to be a gentleman and not
look at her cleavage.

“Sorry,” she mumbles around her
toothbrush. Ryan steps aside so I can come inside and runs to
finish getting ready. I hear water running and then she calls out,
“You shouldn't have had to see that. I should have warned you that
I'm always late. Let me throw on a shirt and shoes, and I'll be
ready.”

While she does that, I subtly look
around her apartment. Books, clothes, and empty bottles of Sunkist
are scattered about. It's clean, though. Just a little
messy.

“Okay,” Ryan says entering the living
room. “I'm ready.”

I turn to see her. Brown boots are
peeking from underneath her jeans and she's wearing a white sweater
that displays a strong shoulder and collarbone.

“You look great.”

She smiles. “Worth the
wait?”

“Definitely.”

Ryan walks over, takes my hand, and
leads me out. She's very comfortable with me already. I like it.
Her hair cascades around her face, and I can't see her features
really well, but when I open the car door of my Dodge Charger for
her, I do see a smile. Once I get in the car, Ryan angles herself
towards me a little.

“You have a nice car.”

“Thanks.”

“What's your brother's name?” She
asks.

“Owen. He's number 70.”

Ryan nods, seeming to be thinking
about something. “Will your parents be there?” She says after a
moment, a hint of apprehension coating her voice.

“No.”

“Whew. Good.” Then she backtracks a
bit. “I mean, I'm sure they are great, but I'm not really
meet-the-parents material. Hell, I even messed that up when my
parents first met me.” She sounds slightly bitter, but then she
changes the subject before I can question it. “Did you play
football? You have the big, upper body of a football player.” At
this, she squeezes my bicep.

“Yes, I did, and I was pretty good
too.”

“Oh, I bet you were,” she grins,
reluctantly removing her hand from my arm.

“What about you? Did you play any
sports?”

Ryan's kind of tall for a girl. She
could have been a basketball player.

“I played tennis,” she says
simply.

“Played?”

“It was fun to start with, but then my
parents were pressuring me too much. I played through my senior
year and then quit. I still play here and there if I can find a
partner.”

“Were you good?” I ask, picturing her
in a white tennis dress, those long legs perfectly showing off how
good they look.

“First seed, so yeah, I was. My coach
was disappointed in me, but I couldn't handle it
anymore.”

I glance over at her as I turn into
the parking lot. Boy, this place is packed! “Do your parents
pressure you a lot?” I pry.

She laughs humorlessly, but her answer
evades the question. “Everyone has expectations, including them.
Oh! There's a spot.” She points to the first empty space we've seen
so far.

Ryan takes hold of my hand once more
as we head to the main gate. I pay the fee for us to get in, and
then we go hunting for seats. People are everywhere. Oh, yeah, I
think as I remember what Owen said. Rival teams are playing
tonight. That's why he told me about people getting here so early.
I never really noticed this part when I played. I was always more
focused on the game than the people watching.

There aren't many available seats on
the bleachers. Ryan apparently finds some because she starts
tugging me towards the middle section. She stops at one row about
halfway up, but I don't see where she's expecting us to
sit.

“You can sit on this one, and I'll sit
right in front of you in that empty spot?”

Ryan wants to sit in front of me? How
will that work for conversation?

“Sure,” I say anyway.

She goes first, politely excusing us
as we maneuver in front of the people. Then she steps downward to
her seat, and I sit down on the row above her. Ryan reaches behind
her and over that bare shoulder of hers, she says, “Open up,” as
she taps my leg. My knees come apart as she scoots backwards. Ah.
Finally catching on, I move forward a little, and she leans into
the space between my legs.

My hands start on her shoulders and
then move down her arms as she turns her head to say something. We
are truly relaxed around one another. It's surprising for this
early on. I ignore it and focus on what she's about to say as three
players go forward for the coin toss.

“Number 70, right?”

“Yep. That's him over there,” I
answer, my eyes landing on him amongst the group of players across
the field waiting for their time to run through the banner the
cheerleaders are setting up.

“How old is he?”

“Sixteen. Hey, do you have siblings?”
I just realized she's never said.

Ryan shakes her head, my eyes drawn to
her shoulder. It's only a shoulder, but her skin looks so smooth,
and I wonder if it's as soft as her hands. My last relationship
ended about six months ago, and my few dates since never made it to
sex. This girl, especially with her body, has me thinking in fast
forward. I'm not that guy though. Yet the fingers of my right hand
dance up her arm, slowly dragging across shoulder, pushing hair out
of my way as I go. When I reach her neck, I return to where I
started to begin the process all over again.

Hoots, hollers, and applause starts as
the announcers introduce our team. The players run through the
banner to the music of Who Let the Dogs Out, as they are the
Bulldogs. Ryan claps as well, and then I have to pull my fingers
away from her lovely skin. It's time for the national anthem. We
all stand and dutifully, Ryan places her hand over her heart when
the music starts.

When it's over, my brother turns
around, searching the crowd for me, his helmet in his hands. I stay
standing, and he quickly spots me with a grin. I give him a thumbs
up before he has to turn around for the start of the game, finally
putting on his helmet.

“He's cute,” Ryan tells me when I sit
down and she scoots between my legs once more. She says it more as
if he's a little kid and not a teenager. “It's obvious you're
brothers. Y'all have the same curly brown hair.” Without bumping
into the people on either side of her, she turns to tug on one of
my curls with a grin.

“Yeah, the men in my family all have
an uncanny resemblance. However, my older brother doesn't have the
curls because his hair is so short.”

Ryan faces the field, but asks,
“What's his name? How old is he?”

“Keith. He's thirty-three. Hey, do you
want anything from the concession stand?” I can't believe I haven't
asked yet.

“Maybe right before halftime? Unless
you want something now then we don't have to wait?”

“No, I'm good.”

As the game really gets underway, Ryan
gets lost in it. She may watch it occasionally, but she still
doesn't know much of what's happening. She'll tap my knee and ask
me about something, so I explain it to her. If it happens again,
I'll point it out to her to see if she caught it. A few times, she
points it out to me before I can. She's really paying attention,
and I like it.

Owen is doing great tonight too.
Halfway through the second quarter, we're up by three touchdowns.
Ryan makes a few comments about how well he's playing. She even
mentions some of the plays I explained to her. There's a sliver of
pride that runs through me that she's not only asking about what's
happening, but she's absorbing it.

“Sorry you have to explain this to me,
Gabe. I've never had anyone around who knew what they were talking
about to do it. Honestly, when I watch, most of the time I'm
checking out the players. I'm getting the hang of it
though.”

I laugh. “It doesn't bother me. I'm
enjoying it actually.”

At this, she turns to look at me, a
playful smile on her lips. “You like teaching me things? What else
would you like to teach me?”

Ahh! I've been doing well at keeping
my mind out of the gutter since the national anthem played, and
then she goes and says that. Before I can stop myself, I lean down
to whisper into her ear, my lips brushing her earlobe. “There are
many, many things.” I feel her shiver from my touch, and I smile. I
can't help the kiss I place on her neck before I go back to how I
was sitting. “What would you like from the concession
stand?”

Ryan asks for chili cheese nachos and
a Sunkist, if they have it. If not, a bottle of water is preferred.
I tell her to stay put to save our seats. I end up being gone
longer than I wanted because I run into people I know from high
school or people who know me through Owen. Plus, I get stopped on
the way back to our seats by even more people thanks to it being
halftime. At this rate, everything will be cold when I get back to
Ryan.

“I was about to come look for you,”
she says as I take my seat behind her.

“Sorry. I kept getting hung up with
people who wouldn't quit talking.”

“It's okay. You can make it up to me
later.” She's not facing me, but I know by her tone that she's
smiling.

Ryan eats her nachos, and I eat my hot
dogs in silence while the band performs a pitiful halftime show.
That hasn't gotten any better since I was in school that's for
sure. Some high schools had fantastic bands. We had an okay one,
and it doesn't seem to ever improve. Once we finish, I have just
enough time to go throw our trash away before the third quarter
starts.

The quarters pass quickly, especially
when Ryan asks about little things here and there, and she's
leaning into me with her arms resting on my legs as her fingers
draw circles on my knees. Our team wins and people start getting up
to leave. It's about ten thirty, but I'm hoping to see Owen for a
quick second.

“Do you mind if we see my brother
before we go?”

“No, that's fine.”

She takes my hand as we walk down the
steps of the bleachers before heading towards the field goal where
the players are gathered. We stand along the sidelines with other
parents while we wait for their coach to finish talking to them.
Ryan leans into me, holding onto my arm. I move to wrap an arm
around her waist. Owen catches sight of me, grinning wider when he
sees Ryan. Their coach wraps things up, and Owen heads straight
towards us. He's too cool for a hug around his friends, so I hold
up a fist for him to bump.

“Good game, Owen. You may even be
better than I was.”

He grins. “Oh, I'm way better,” he
brags.

I roll my eyes and chuckle. “Owen,
this is Ryan. Ryan, this is my cocky, baby brother,
Owen.”

Ryan shakes Owen's outstretched hand
as he says, “Nice to meet you.” He tilts his head at me. “I didn't
know you were seeing someone.”

“Don't worry, Owen. This is our first
date, and somehow, I think I'll end up being Gabe's dirty, little
secret.” Ryan laughs, then changes the subject. “Congrats on
winning. You played great.”