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It made me wish for things I shouldn't want. Ryan deserves a woman who can provide him with the family he wants. A woman like Tyra. But that doesn't stop me from wanting to hate her guts and the air she breathes. She's probably lovely. She's gorgeous, and from what everyone says, she's kind, generous, wonderful to fans, and, simply put, perfect. How can I compete with perfection?
Not that I want to compete. I don't! But that doesn't make it sting any less.
So, I've been ignoring Ryan, which hasn't been overly difficult. The team left this morning for a three-game, five-day road trip. Toronto is in Columbus tomorrow night. Then they're off to Washington for the second game of a back-to-back, after which the team has one day off before finishing the trip in New Jersey.
I was lucky to escape confrontation before he left. He attempted to talk to me and texted, but his messages went unanswered. The entire team has Holly's and my phone numbers, but they're not supposed to use them unless it's work-related. Ryan wanting in my pants isn't work-related. I need to figure out a way to make it explicitly clear we are never, ever, ever getting back together. No matter how much I want him. Maybe I should send him a Taylor Swift meme.
According to Entertainment Now, Tyra Price is arriving in Toronto any day now to start filming her new movie. Hopefully, that will keep Ryan occupied and away from my heart. Clearly, he still cares for her, or he wouldn't have defended her during the media scrum. I'm lucky and grateful for the space the team's schedule provides to help me keep my distance from him.
Holly and I are staying in Toronto for this road trip. We sent Taylor with the team. She loves to travel, and aside from being ridiculously competent in everything, she's fantastic with the team. All the guys are half in love with Holly's half-sister. I have to admit I like her too. Not only could she be Holly's twin, but she's also intelligent, witty, and gets shit done on time. I love efficiency. It's sexy.
In fact, SASS is running so efficiently that I have no work to do. It's a Saturday, but I usually bring work home with me. Hiring some extra bodies means Holly and I can actually take weekends. Sometimes.
I'm one of those people who don't know what to do with themselves when they have nothing to do, but I still complain about never having free time. Damned if I do, damned if I don't.
Maybe I'll take some time to read a spicy romance novel, indulge in that lovely bottle of iced wine I've been saving in the fridge, and decompress. Or I could work out. Holly is upstairs killing herself on Luke's Peloton bike. It's her new obsession. I could always jump on the damned thing after her or do some weights. Maybe a kettlebell workout? I'm changing into some yoga gear when my phone pings.
It's a group text from Ollie and Ozzy. We don't usually group text unless someone is having an intervention.
Ollie: Hey, Sis, what's up?
Avery: Um, you tell me. You were the one who texted me.
Ozzy: Can't two concerned brothers text their little sister?
Avery: Is there something wrong with me? I was unaware I required your concern.
Ozzy: You know what we mean.
Ollie: Ryan's back. He texted us and might have mentioned he's already fucked things up and that you're not talking to him.
Avery: Ryan and I can be civilized. We're friends.
Ollie: I don't think he requested a trade to Toronto to be friends with you.
Avery: Aren't big brothers supposed to frown upon this type of thing? Or punch the guys I date, or terrorize them or something? He wants to defile your little sister.
Ollie: That ship sailed long ago. We aren't stupid. Or deaf. We knew you two weren't playing Twister in your bedroom.
Ozzy: Plus, we've already punched Ryan in the face once. He's a good guy that's passed all the Big Brother Tests. He's pre-approved boyfriend material.
Ollie: The douche nozzles you one-and-done dated were all shitheads.
Avery: They weren't all douchebags!
Ollie: Um, let me see. There was Jordan, the self-proclaimed genius who thought he could make the NHL in six months or less if he had the right trainer.
Ozzy: Or Cletus—who should be disqualified on name alone—who thought he could make millions by selling sea monkeys.
Ollie: Sean, who had three other girlfriends and thought you would be his fourth.
Ozzy: Dominic, the guy who went to jail for a DUI and drug possession.
Ollie: George, who said he was thirty when he really meant thirty at heart because he was actually fifty-nine and having a mid-life crisis.
Avery: George doesn't count! I was catfished!
Ozzy: Don't forget the Eat-Pray-Love guy who only spoke in cheesy affirmations. I think you get our point.
