35

Ryan

Must Be Important Stuff

I managed to get three hours of sleep after the most challenging game of the season so far.

For most of the night, I gazed up at the ceiling, with my hands on my stomach. Resisting the urge to walk over to that shitty thousand-dollar piece of plastic and tell Kassie some bullshit emergency to get her to come over. Something to get her in my dorm with nothing but a pair of panties on that I could rip off with my teeth.

Dozing didn't work. Every time I finally started slipping off the sleep, the dreams came. Kassie, lying on my bed, drawing something, her dark hair down her back. The same hair I could sweep aside while I stood right behind her, palming her ass. Leaning down far enough to press my cock between her legs.

My alarm went off at five o'clock in the morning and I knocked my phone off the nightstand.

"Fucking fantastic," I muttered under my breath, pushing up from the bed. The raging hard-on hadn't been an addition to the dream. My balls ached. I swore under my breath, staggering out of bed.

Everyone else got to sleep in for Sunday morning. Everybody except for me.

I had a coach-led meeting on campus to discuss yesterday's performance. Walking into the training center, I couldn't hide the exhaustion. I was tired. Tired as shit.

Tired as shit. My balls hurt. What a goddamn Sunday.

"Ryan Cross?" A woman reached for my hand and shook it. "Brittany Harrison, I'm a statistician from Meyerland Solutions. Lovely to make your acquaintance, my boys are big fans."

"Nice to meet you," I grunted, and before I was finished with her handshake, another one hovered close by.

"Scott Nishimoto, analyst from Thorne U, glad to be aboard."

"Thanks for joining—"

"Hack Smith, director of communications. If you remember me, it'll be from summer training—"

"I remember you," I told him, reaching over to hold the door to the meeting room. "Great to see you again. Good to see you too. Welcome in." I nodded to another person, trying to talk over me. "Yeah, it certainly was a game yesterday. Yep. Yeah. Thank you."

The rest of the meeting filed in accordingly, all waiting for Coach Lawson to join the room, but I stood there for a moment with my hand on the door, holding it open in the quiet hallway for just a couple of seconds. If I could get ten minutes to close my eyes, I'd be fine. But those ten minutes wouldn't come.

Footsteps hurried from the right side of the hallway, and I glanced over my shoulder, expecting to see another person coming in to hyperanalyze my teammates.

I stared. "Kassie?"

She came to a sudden stop outside of the door, in the patchy Romans hoodie I wanted to throw away, with her dark hair tied in a bun. Her face was clear and bright. For the first time in a while, she went without makeup. I had to tear myself away from studying her face. So beautiful.

But why was she here? I couldn't figure it out. We didn't have practice.

"Good. I didn't think I was going to catch you in time." Kassie breathed out and shrugged off her backpack to pull out a small bag. "I thought, worst comes to worst, I open the door and throw it at you."

I cleared my throat, ignoring the way it tightened when she came close. "What are you doing here?"

"I got you—uh—" She tugged out something wrapped in paper and held it in front of me. "I bought breakfast and I thought—you know—I'm already there so…it's a breakfast sandwich. If you eat without chewing, you can finish it before the meeting."

For a long moment, I stared at her.

She brought me a sandwich?

"Don't look at me like that." Kassie pushed it towards me again. "It's bacon, egg, avocado, a bunch of other shit, the highest protein one on the menu. I know it's not specifically on your diet plan but it's…something."

Slowly, I unwrapped the sandwich. I couldn't even remember the last time I'd eaten something like this for breakfast. The bacon dripped grease on the paper and the egg ran down the side of the bagel. And it smelled so fucking good.

Goddamn.

I lowered the sandwich. "You came here to drop off food?"

Kassie flushed. "I rescheduled with Cleo. I'm approving the social media calendar."

"We're doing that tomorrow."

"Nope, I'm doing it today."

She didn't know I was waiting for Coach Lawson and for this damn meeting to be over. I sighed. "Kassie, I have a—"

"I said I'm doing it. You don't like the social media crap," Kassie pointed out, slipping her backpack on her shoulder. "It's not like you're going to miss out on anything. And I'm sure it'll go by faster without you asking what an algorithm is." Her eyes darted away from me as soon as she looked up and her voice softened. "I'll see you later."

In the hallway, I was stuck to the floor, unable to move while Kassie made long strides across the hallway, heading off towards Cleo's War Room. One of the stupidest parts of the fake relationship was having to approve of all of the social media crap. Kassie knew how much I hated it.

And she volunteered to do it.

Who else did that for me?

I took a bite of the sandwich. Fuck, that was amazing. The runny egg, the everything bagel, the crunch of the bacon. I chewed slowly, watching as Kassie reached the end of the hallway.

"Thank you," I said, and my words echoed down the hall. Kassie glanced back with an embarrassed grin, waving me away before she disappeared. I took another bite, watching the empty hallway for long seconds.

"Cross." Coach Lawson walked up and gestured for me to close the door.

I rewrapped the sandwich and followed after him, taking the only remaining seat, the one in the middle of the action, surrounded by the rest of the professionals.

Kassie bought me a sandwich.

A grin crossed my face at the thought. Kassie bought me a sandwich and an hour free where I could get something else done between my physiotherapy appointment and my gym slot.

"We're going to go step by step," Coach Lawson commanded at the head of the room and everyone started using the tablets on the tables. I couldn't hope to use one of those. I'd probably break something.

While they discussed the thirty-seven-yard pass in the first quarter, I slipped out my phone. I had a new notification, Kassie reposted something about a Florida apartment.

My good mood from the sandwich evaporated. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. It wasn't like Kassie was moving to the moon.

And she can visit me.

The new idea brought me back up again and I grinned, double-tapping back to her art account. She had a new animation of the Romans mascot, jumping on the field.

My girlfriend's so talented .

I scrolled down to the older videos until one of the offense coaches interrupted me. "Ryan, we're looking to reshape our wide receiver training. What're you thinking?"

"I've already talked to them about it," I answered automatically, glancing up from my phone. "We're open to evolving our training to match that demand."

A couple of them nodded together and turned back to their tablets when my phone buzzed.

KASSIE: what are you doing???

I frowned, gazing over the meeting, chalked full of the best of the best working to bring my team to victory. Coach Lawson started a video on the projector, to point out flaws in our defense, but I hunkered down, texting out a response.

RYAN: MEETING

KASSIE: must be important stuff

"What do we think about calling in…uh…" Coach Lawson fumbled for the name. "Who's that lady who works with the Florida coordinator? Cross, who is it?"

"Anita Rhodeson," I answered.

"That's right. Cleo, can you call her? I want her here before KYU."

I returned to my phone with a frown.

RYAN: IT IS

An image popped up in our messages and I had to squint to read it. It was a list of notifications. An arrow pointed at the top one.

KASSIE: thats so weird because it looks like ur stalking me

I could physically feel my mouth dry in real-time. Out of everything I could've done, I accidentally liked a post from two years ago. But how did she know it was me? Dumbfounded, I glanced back and forth between my phone and the projector.

God fucking dammit .

"Now, with our next game, they caught on to what we were doing too quickly," Coach Lawson thundered. "Right, Cross?"

"What?"

"We were too open about our plans. It's how they were able to get so close in the third quarter."

"Uh…" I nodded. "Yeah."

"We don't need anybody seeing our cards before we play them." Coach Lawson took off his Romans hat and thumped it to the desk. "Otherwise, we might as well abandon the Birchwood Conference."

You're fucking telling me .

I typed up a quick message and deleted it. With a sigh, I knew I couldn't slip out of this one, and the more I tried to dig myself out, the funnier it'd be to Kassie.

RYAN: HOW DID YOU KNOW IT WAS ME

The next image appeared on the phone and I swore under my breath. When I picked out a username and a profile picture, I didn't think Kassie would see them. The name, Ryan, with a bunch of fours, and the picture was me, sitting in my car.

Goddammit .

What the hell was I supposed to say? While the coaches put together a game plan on the board for the KYU game, I was putting together one of my own. Nothing worked. She could see right through me and I was stupid to think otherwise.

My phone pinged again.

Here it comes .

She was never going to let me live this down.

But the notification wasn't another message from Kassie. It was an alert that I had a new follower. I frowned, double-clicking it. The account was Kassie's.

I stared down at it.

Everyone in the room delved into a deep discussion about our next game's offense strategy but it was hard to concentrate, especially when the next two messages came through.

KASSIE: there

KASSIE: isnt this easier ball dribbler?

I couldn't bite back the grin. I shifted back in my seat, grinning hard. All the exhaustion was gone. If they wanted, I could've jogged a lap around the field, twice over.

Kassie followed me back. I didn't have to hide scrolling through her accounts anymore.

RYAN: YEAH

RYAN: THIS IS BETTER