“What the hell is up with you today? You’ve been snapping at people left and right, and while I’m not one to talk when it comes to that, it’s not your norm. What gives?”
I rub the heels of my palms over my eyes and shake my head. “I’m tired. I didn’t sleep well last night. My brain wouldn’t shut up.”
Ryne lifts his hand and hesitates, then places it on my thigh and gives it a squeeze. I feel like shit right now, but it’s almost worth it to feel his palm on my leg. I press my hand over his and try to soak up some of his warmth.
“Is there,” he coughs and tries again. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
I look over at him and smile. “Not unless you’ve got a spare life plan tucked away in your back pocket?”
He rubs his thumb over my leg. “Sorry, D. Last time I checked, I was fresh out of those.”
Coach King pops his head down our row of lockers. Where he might normally just immediately bark at us to get outside, he pauses when he takes in the scene before him. “It’s time to head outside boys. Everything okay?”
I slip my hand away from Ryne’s and his hand slides off my leg as I stand up. “Yeah, coming, Coach.”
* * *
Bad moods are infectious.Pretty sure I tainted Ryne’s mood. He’s not focusing well today during practice at all. Between him fumbling around, me barely able to keep up with the running because of the giant cramp in my side from all the shit I ate, and a couple of guys being out sick, our team is pretty pathetic today. Even Tyler’s in some kind of funk this afternoon, which is a complete one-eighty to his attitude at lunch. About two minutes ago he slammed his half-empty water bottle into the trash, which for him is the equivalent of a giant tantrum. I don’t think anyone saw it but me, but still. We’re all a pretty pathetic bunch today, and Coach King’s patience is hanging by a thread.
“Guys, bring it in.” He stops our passing drill and waves everyone over. We all sit down right in the middle of the field. It brings back memories of youth soccer and with it a huge wave of nostalgia. “It’s getting closer and closer to the end of the season and y’all have been doing so well. This isn’t the time to fall apart. We’re going to call it a day and start fresh tomorrow. I want each of you to get some rest, clear your heads, and be one hundred percent ready to work tomorrow. Got it?”
A chorus of “Yes, Coach,” ripples through the group.
I grab a quick shower and get changed, and sit on the bench to wait for Ryne. He doesn’t take long at all today, showering, drying off, and getting changed in record time. My butt hasn’t even warmed the seat yet and he’s finished. We plod out to the parking lot side by side, not speaking and not in any sort of hurry. We parked next to each other and when we get to our vehicles I turn to Ryne.
“I don’t really wanna go home yet.”
What I really mean is, please touch my leg again and let me soak up some more of your warmth because I could really use it right now. But of course, I don’t say that. It would sound idiotic and freak him out. He stares at me, silently scanning my face and down my torso, and then nods toward his truck.
“Come on. Let’s go get something to eat.”
* * *
Ryne hasme sit down while he orders, and I rub my temples as I wait. I want him to come sit down, and next to me, not across from me. I clamp my teeth together as he walks toward our booth, determined not to do anything stupid like, oh I don’t know, start drooling at the sight of his biceps. My fingers twitch at the thought of running up and down those strong arms and over his chest. They twitch again, literally, like they’re stuck in the memory of the last time they’d touched him and can still feel his warm, smooth skin. Phantom pecs. They’re feeling phantom pecs. That’s a thing, right? You lose a limb and it still feels like it’s there? Pretty sure it’s what my hands and fingers are going through right now, only they didn’t lose an appendage of their own, they’ve been separated from Ryne’s body. And now it’s time to walk it back before I say any of this stupid shit out loud and sound like a total creeper.
My eyebrows fly sky high as Ryne slips into the booth and sets our order number down on the table. His arm and thigh brush against mine and he pushes against me jokingly.
“Scoot your ass over and give me some room.” I slide over maybe an inch. He chuckles and peers around me. “You have like two more feet of space over there. Move.”
I side-eye him with my lips twisted up in a sassy smirk. “If you wanted more room you would have sat on the other side of the table.”
He covers his mouth with his hand to hide a smile, and then gently but forcefully pushes against me to slide me over a few more inches. He slides along with me though and our thighs are still touching, so I don’t complain. I pull my phone out of my bag and read through the last few text messages in the group chat Will, Milo, and I have. I click on the link Milo sent and a song starts playing.
“Oops. Didn’t realize my volume was up.”
“What song is that?”
“I don’t know, some band I’ve never heard of. My brother sends me stuff all the time to check out. Some of it sucks but this doesn’t sound too bad.”
Ryne turns to me. “You have a brother?”
“Two, actually.”
“Really.” There’s a note of surprise in his voice. At that moment someone swipes our number off the table and sets our food down in place of it. Ryne speaks again as he hands mine over. “I thought you said you were an only child.”
I shake my head, grabbing the ketchup and squeezing some onto my plate, and then pass the bottle to him. “I never said that. I said I moved here with my mom and dad. But I have two brothers,” I tell him. “Will and Milo.”
“Huh. I had no idea.”
