You Before Me

by Lindsay Paige

  “Hey, Owen. How's it going?” I answer.

  “Good. School sucks as usual, but things are good,” he says.

  “Still keeping up good grades?”

  “Of course. I can't play football if I don't. That's why I was calling.”

  “Oh yeah?” I question, already having a feeling of where this is going.

  “Yeah, we have a game tomorrow against our rivals. Mom and Dad have some dinner party thing, so they won't be there. Think you'll be able to come?” He sounds hopeful, and I can't blame him.

  We're a close family, but work has kept me from going to most of his games. This is the first Friday I've had off in a while, and I feel guilty that I chose a girl before thinking about him. I wonder if Ryan would be up for a high school football game. We can always do something afterwards too. My parents won't be there, so I don't have to worry about my mother thinking I'm robbing the cradle. If Ryan doesn't want to go, then we'll reschedule. My family comes first. If Owen wants me there, that's what I'm going to do.

  “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 las
t 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.”

  “Thanks.” He turns to me once more. “You brought her here? As a date? No wonder you're single.” He laughs.

  “I asked if it was okay, and she said yes. Besides, we're about to go somewhere else. Who's coming to pick you up?”

  “I'm catching a ride with one of my friends.” He looks over his shoulder, and someone waves him over. “I better go. Nice to meet you, Ryan.”

  “You too.”

  “I'll see you soon, Gabe?”

  “Yeah. Let Mom know I'll be home for supper Sunday,” I tell him.

  “Will do. Later!”

  He turns and jogs towards his friend. Ryan steps to stand in front of me, a sneaky smile on her lips as she loosely wraps her arms around my waist.

  “Where to next, Officer?”

  “Do you like cake?” I question.

  She giggles, a ridiculously girly giggle. “Of course I do.”

  “Then allow me to lead the way.” Once she hooks her arm around my elbow and we start walking out of the stadium, I tell her where we're going. “There's a cafe not to far from here, and they have some of the best cakes I've ever had. I thought we could go there for something sweet to eat, and then walk around downtown or whatever you want to do.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  At the cafe, Ryan gets a slice of German chocolate cake while I settle for a slice of upside down pineapple cake. She asks if they have any Sunkist, but they don't so she orders water instead. We're sitting at a little, high table, our knees touching.

  “You really like Sunkist, don't you?”

  Ryan just took a bite, so she only nods. After she swallows, she says, “It's that or water. I'm slightly addicted to it. Always have been.”

  “Mhm.” I take a delicious bite myself, and then ask, “What's one of your favorite things to do?”

  Without any hesitation whatsoever, the words fly out of her mouth. “Have sex.”

  She catches me off guard with her answer, my fork pausing halfway to my mouth. Ryan's eyes widen as if she's just now realizing she said that.

  “Shit. I mean, crap. Sorry. That's, um, not a good, ladylike thing to say.” Her cheeks flush a light pink, her eyes focused on her cake. Something tells me this is the first and last time I'll ever see her blush because it
doesn't seem like something she does often. “I don't really have a favorite thing. If it's fun or if there's some sort of thrill to it, then I'm happy. Kind of goes back to what I said about my major. Nothing sparks a passion in me. Even simple activities apparently because I can't even pick a favorite, appropriate, thing I like to do.” Ryan's dark green eyes peek at me from underneath her lashes. “Sorry, I didn't mean to ramble.”

  “Ramble away. I don't mind.” I give her a kind smile because it almost seems that her own answer threw her for a loop, and she's slightly uncomfortable now. It doesn't seem to fit her personality, but it does make her more real to me. “And you do have a passion of sorts. Liking things that thrill you, as you say. It sounds like you're an adventurous, daring type of person.”

  Ryan laughs. She's so sexy when she does. Whatever emotions she's dealing with disappears into simple, carefree joy when she laughs. “Hm. Not so sure about adventurous. Daring seems to fit me, I guess. What about you? What else in your life fuels you besides your job? That does fuel you, right?”

  “Oh yeah, I love what I do. I also like to go out to one of my dad's pieces of land and shoot targets with some of the guys in my family. We get together at least one Saturday a month just for that.”

  She shakes her head slightly, her hair falling forward to cover that shoulder I'm dying to touch again. The hand in my lap gains a mind of its own as it moves to rest on her knee.

  “What?” I ask, referring to her head shaking.

  “I don't know if I could shoot a gun. The thought of them is intimidating in itself.”

  “Nah. It's fun to target practice and a really good way to relieve stress. You're daring. Maybe you should try it. As long as you know how to use a gun correctly, you'll be fine.”

  At this, Ryan smiles. I'm confused for a second until, with laughter in her voice, she says, “Already finding something new to teach me, huh? Maybe you should have been a teacher instead.”

  That makes me laugh. “I don't know about all that, but if you want to try it, let me know. You can come with me next time we all get together.”

  Ryan softly giggles. “You would let me around your family? I'm not sure if that's a good idea.” There's so much more weight to her words than she's letting on. Why doesn't she think so? Ryan seems perfectly acceptable. Before I can analyze it too much, she adds with heated eyes, “Besides, wouldn't a private lesson be more fun?” Her eyes fall to my neck when I swallow hard, and I briefly wonder if she's watching my Adam's apple bobble.