Off Sides(15)

I pull out two cups and fill them up. I push his cup toward him and indicate cream and sugar which he declines. Just as he's taking a sip, I hear, "What the f*ck is he doing here?"

I look behind me and Paula is standing there glaring daggers at Ryan. Not saying a word, my hand reaches out to her palm up. She turns her glare to me then grabs her purse off the counter, fishing around inside. Coming out, she quietly lays one cigarette in my palm. I stick it under the kitchen sink and soak it with water.

As I throw it into the garbage, I hear Paula say, "Pardon me. May I inquire as to what this gentleman is doing in our apartment?"

I glance over at Ryan and he's looking at Paula like she was the bearded lady in the circus...a mixture of grotesque curiosity and humor.

"He's here to talk for a few minutes. I'm choosing to indulge him." I pick up my coffee cup and walk into the living room. Taking a seat on the couch, I watch as Ryan folds his large frame into an old, tattered wicker chair. Our furniture is second hand and mismatched as all get out. Paula walks right in behind him and sits down next to me on the couch. She's still glaring at him and now he's glaring back at her.

"Paula...it’s fine. Give me a few minutes alone to talk to Ryan."

She reluctantly stands up and moves around the coffee table to leave. Pointing her finger at him she says, "I'm watching you, boy."

I can't help but snicker. Paula is five foot nothing and weights ninety pounds soaking wet. But boy can she be scary when she wants to. Ryan does nothing more than give a small nod of his head in her direction then turns his eyes to me.

I settle back into the cushions and take a sip of my coffee, watching him over the rim. He scrubs his hand through his hair which I now see is definitely a nervous gesture. It unsettles me that I immediately take note of how his hair slides forward, lying in gentle waves along the side of his temple and neck. I remember how soft it felt as I ran my own fingers through it not but a few days ago. I sigh at myself. I really need to let the hotness of Ryan go.

Leaning forward, Ryan puts his elbows on his knees and clasps his hands together. He looks at me and there is sorrow there. Here comes the apology and I try to steel myself against it.

But I’m caught off guard when he doesn't apologize. Instead, he says, "The morning after our date, I woke up thinking about you. And I was almost giddy with happiness." He gives me a small smile. "Then I went to hockey practice and one of my teammates called you a whore."

I flinch backward from the softness of his voice and the hurtfulness of his words. Why would someone view me that way?

Before I could say anything, Ryan continues,"I beat the shit out of him until he was bleeding all over the locker room floor."

Oh wow. I feel slightly vindicated. "Did you get in trouble?"

Ryan shakes his head while looking down at the floor. Then he drags his eyes back up to me. "At first, I was furious someone would say that about you. My best friend, Mike...he said it shouldn't matter. It only matters what I think about you."

"Sounds like Mike is pretty smart," I muse.

Ryan leans back in the chair, laying the palms of his hands on his thighs. He starts picking at, what I assume is imaginary lint, just to keep his hands busy. "Yeah, he is. But, the fact of the matter remains, that if we date, there are going to be people in my circle that will think that. Some might even say that...right to your face. And...I just didn't want you to have to go through that."

"So you decide on your own that a relationship is not a good idea...to what...protect me?" I’m pissed I didn’t get a say-so in this and I’m sure he can tell by the tone of my voice.

Ryan sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. He looks like he had a major headache brewing. "Here is where I need to be absolutely honest with you, Danny. Yes, at first my thoughts were solely about protecting you. I didn't want you to get hurt. But then I started realizing that I would get hurt too. Every time you would get hurt, I would hurt as well. And I then questioned whether I was able to make that type of commitment to someone. I'm ashamed to say...I was protecting myself, too. I didn't think I was ready for this."

His words hurt but I also have to admire and respect his brutal honesty. He could have sugar coated this breakup to me but he candidly tells me that he’s afraid for himself as well. "I get it and I appreciate the truth. I know you could have given me a dozen lines to help ease your conscience over this."

"I'm glad you understand," Ryan says as he stands up from his chair.

So this is it, the final goodbye.

Except...he doesn’t head toward the door. He walks right over to me and sits beside me on the couch. As I turn to face him, he reaches out and strokes his fingertips over my cheek. I shiver as the rough feel of them gently caresses me.

"I'm glad you understand that because I expect you to understand this as well. It only took me another two days to realize that I would rather suffer the pain of what others might think than be away from you. It took me two more days to get up the nerve to come here to see you. The only thing I can ask of you is can you endure that with me so we can try again."

I close my eyes as his thumb gently plays along my jaw. I let his words settle into me and I enjoy the warmth they promote...for just a minute. But then I push past it. It’s probably a really bad idea to even entertain the notion of a relationship with Ryan.