I know my answer.
I shake my head. “No, I don’t want to go home yet.”
The smile that passes over his lips is so sexy that I might just croak right here, on his passenger side seat.
“Good answer.” He brushes a strand of hair behind my ear and then asks, “Why did you come to the game, Myla?”
I turn toward him so my knees knock against his thighs. I reach out and tug on the hem of his shirt as I say, “Nichole got tickets from work, and I’ve been so desperate to see you that I thought, maybe even from far away, I could get my fill. I had no idea the tickets were right behind the dugout, and I had no idea that you would see me.”
“If you were desperate to see me, why didn’t you message me?”
“I was embarrassed,” I admit. “I like you, but I don’t want to hurt you. I’m not experienced when it comes to healthy relationships. And I know you said you would help me carry my baggage, but you shouldn’t have to be weighed down by all of that.”
“Good thing I lift weights then, huh?” He winks.
“I’m being serious, Ryot.”
“And so am I. How about this? We take this one step at a time, okay? No pressure, no titles, just having fun and seeing where it takes us.”
“That sounds doable.”
“But . . .” he says, now resting his forehead on his arm as he stares down at me. “I ask two things from you.”
“Okay, what are they?”
He holds up one finger and says, “Always be honest with me. No matter what you’re feeling, you need to be honest if this is working for you or not. And two.” He holds up a second finger. “We don’t need a title, but I would like to be exclusive with you. I have no intention of going out with anyone else, and I would hope that you would feel the same way.”
“I can barely gather myself to go out with you, let alone someone else, so no need to worry about that. And I’ve been honest with you thus far, so I can’t see that changing.”
“Good,” he says. “So want to go get dessert with me?”
“What do you have in mind?”
All he does is wiggle his eyebrows and then shuts the door. I guess it’s going to be a surprise.
“You were right. Sharing a sundae was the right thing to do,” I say as Ryot pulls out the sundae we ordered to go. In a take-out box big enough for an entrée, I’m not even sure we’ll be able to finish it. After we grabbed the ice cream, Ryot took me to a public beach, pulled a blanket out of his trunk, and walked me to a spot where we have now commandeered a space for ourselves on the barely lit beach, with only a few lampposts providing light.
“They always have big servings there, and I swear they make it even bigger because they’re fans.”
“Ooo, do you go to many places that like the Bobbies?”
“Not on purpose. I go to places I like. Some of them boo me when I walk in because they’re Rebels fans, but I take it as a compliment more than anything.”
“I’m assuming you don’t care for the attention from the way you seem so levelheaded,” I say as he hands me a spoon and sets the ice cream between us.
I turn toward him, cross-legged, as he stretches out and uses his arm closest to me to prop himself up. “I don’t seek it out, nor do I shy away from it. I want to ensure the fans know I appreciate them, so I wave if someone calls my name. If someone stops me, I take a selfie. If someone asks for an autograph, I sign it. And sure, I might have gotten to where I am because of hard work, but the fans play a big role in my confidence, so I owe them.”
“Wow, you really are levelheaded. Any show boaters on your team?”
“Penn Cutler. He’s a pitcher. I figured you wouldn’t know that.”
“Yeah, I barely know that you play third base.”
He chuckles. “Well, Penn is big on showboating, and the fans eat him up for it. Helps that he’s really fucking good.”
“Did he pitch today?” I take another bite of this luscious butterscotch sundae and nearly melt from how good it is. I’m going to have to tell Nichole about this place.
“No, he pitched yesterday.”
“Oh, does that mean he can’t pitch today?”
He chuckles again and sighs. “Man, I’m going to have to give you a whole course on baseball, aren’t I?”
“When I said I knew nothing, I meant it. I think today was the first time I sat through a whole game and paid attention. I followed the crowd. One guy behind me shouted fuck at one point, and I proceeded to shout fuck as well, thinking I was cheering with the Bobbies. Apparently, that was not the case. One of his players on the other team struck out.”
“You rooting against us, Myla?” He mischievously grins.
“Not on purpose. I made up for it after when you scored. I did an old whoop whoop.” I circle my fist in the air, causing him to laugh.
“A whoop whoop makes up for anything.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“So what have you been doing these last few weeks with me not bothering you?” he asks.
“Just working, saving my tips, and planning what I want to do with my life.”
“Any thoughts?” he asks.
“Yeah, I have some,” I say shyly.
We barely, and I mean barely, finished the ice cream. Ryot took care of the garbage, and then when I thought we were going to leave, he lay back on the blanket. He now has one hand propping up his head as he talks, distracting me with how his bicep pops against his shirtsleeve.
“Care to share?”
“Promise not to make fun of me?”
His brow furrows. “Why would I make fun of you?”
“Because I should have an idea at this point, and I don’t. That’s embarrassing.”
“Says who? Pretty sure there isn’t anything that says people need to have their life figured out by a certain age. My grandma Louise is the perfect example of that. She was an elementary school teacher for thirty years and then one day said she was going to start fishing lobster. And she did.”
“What?” I laugh. “Isn’t that arduous work?”
“She wouldn’t bring in many, it was more of an after-retirement hobby, but she didn’t know anything about lobster cages. She decided to learn, went out on her little boat, and she spent her days fishing for lobsters. To this day, I will always say she caught the best of the best, and boy, did she know how to cook them. She made this special butter sauce that melted in your mouth.”
“I’ve never had lobster.”
His eyes shoot open. “Wait, seriously?”
“Yeah. My mom never really thought I was special enough to spend money on lobster, and as an adult, I guess I’ve always been afraid to try it.”
“Well, we’re going to have to change that now, aren’t we?”
“Any good seafood places around here?”
He shakes his head. “No, I’ll have to take you to Maine. It’s the only place to get lobster. I refuse to eat any other kind.”
“Lobster snob, are we?”
“Yes.”
“At least you’re honest about it. So, Maine lobster, huh? What do you miss most about living there?”