8. Alan

Chapter eight

Alan

We sit around the table at Ryan’s place, and it’s surprising how easy it is. I thought I would be too nervous to speak and would find myself just sitting here listening to them talking while I stuff my face with this amazing meal he’s made. A small moan escapes my lips on the next mouthful, and Ryan’s eyes land on me.

“So I take it you like it?” he asks, and I nod, chewing through the hot deliciousness. “Well, there is plenty, so you can take some home if you like.”

“Thanks. Your granny taught you to cook, right?” I ask, remembering he said it was her recipe he was following.

“She taught both me and my cousin Teddy, or at least tried to. She looked after us after school, and since she lived only a few houses down from my parents’ place, we all ate dinner with her almost every night until I moved to the US.”

“Do you get home much?”

“Not as much as I would like. Granny is getting old now, though, so I should make a trip soon. She swears she’s flying over for one of our games, but since we lost Grandad about ten years ago, she hasn’t left the UK since. He always joked that he had to practically carry her onto the plane, she was that scared. I guess without him, it’s not a fear she can face anymore.”

“Aww,” Ian sighs, and Duckie reaches over and squeezes his hand. “Maybe if I carry you onboard you will feel better?” Duckie has terrible air sickness and goes green even just thinking about flying most of the time.

“I think the only way I’d feel better is if I was unconscious, and the airlines won’t let you on if that is the case,” he replies.

Ryan chuckles. “She doesn’t get sick like you, just the general fear of being on a plane for hours and the potential for plummeting to the earth if both engines go out that kind of stops her from actually booking a flight, or agreeing to come when my parents visit.”

“Well, we have plenty of games on the coast this season. Maybe she can come to one of those?” I suggest, but he shakes his head.

“It’s still a nine-plus hour flight.”

Duckie shovels another forkful into his mouth and talks through chews. “Then we should convince the league to do a real-world tour and we can bring the game to her.”

“A second ago, you were saying you need to be unconscious to not feel sick on a plane, and now you’re suggesting flying all over the world?” I ask with a grin.

He shrugs. “Not like I can avoid planes in our job. Besides, on the last few flights last year, I only threw up once.”

“A real world tour is actually a great idea,” Ian says, grabbing his phone out and tapping away. “Banana Ball is trending wildly online. Your videos and the OG’s have been watched millions of times by people all over the globe. It could be a great opportunity, and something never done before. They have world leagues for cricket, soccer, and so many other sports, why not Banana Ball?”

It isn’t totally out of the realm of possibilities. Though they only just added us to the league, rumors are swirling this year could be the last year for one of us, so I don’t see them taking it global any time soon.

“Maybe,” Ryan says, standing to take his plate to the kitchen. “Does anyone want dessert?”

“I’m good,” I say, finishing off my last bite, and joining him in the kitchen. “Dinner was great, though. Thanks again for inviting me and for helping with Gramps’s groceries.”

“No problem. You’re really lucky he’s so close to you, you know?”

I’ve been thinking the opposite, actually. Both Kelly and I have probably taken for granted how good it is to have him here, the demon cat and grumbly nature the main challenge to seeing the positives, but he’s right. We are lucky. He could be back on the ranch where we would hardly get to see him, or in another country completely and we’d almost never get to. I can’t imagine how hard that would be to be so far away from family. The ranch is only a few hours away by car, so if one of my brothers needs us, we can get there, but for Ryan, he’s pretty much a half-a-day flight away from his family. Fuck that would suck.

“I’m starting to see that, yeah,” I reply, and he hands me a covered plate with more of the shepherd’s pie on it.

“Thanks again for dinner. I’ll see you at the gym in the morning, yeah?”

“Actually, I’m back to my regular fitness routine now, cleared by Kyle and all.”

I knew the early visits to the gym were only temporary, but I guess I figured I had more time to… I don’t know. Get to know him. Away from the others.

“Oh, okay.”

“You could come to the pool. It’s one up the street. I have an all-hours pass, so I usually get there at five. There is almost never anyone else there at that time. Sometimes on Tuesdays, the old ladies from the home up the street get in about half past to start their aerobics class, but the rest of the week it’s usually just me. I could let you in and we could swim a few laps?”

“Oh, umm, I don’t really…swim.”

“What do you mean?”

“I never really learned to. I mean, I’m sure I can save myself if I fall in, like I can do the basic stroke or whatever you call it but laps , yeah, I don’t think I can do that.”

“I could show you how. It’s not that hard, and swimming is really good for your stamina.” His cheeks blush that pretty pink again.

“Sure, okay.”

What the fuck? One look from him, and now I’m suddenly agreeing to meet him at the pool at five so he can teach me to swim. I hate the water. Have done since I almost drowned as a kid. Why didn’t I just tell him that? If I get there and freak out, I’m going to have to tell him, or I could just not show up. I can text him in the morning, say I’ve got a headache and can’t make it. But then I will miss out on seeing him swim laps. His toned body gliding through the water. Okay. I’ll go, and I’ll make up an excuse not to get in the water and just watch him. I can do that, right?

***

I get to the pool, and he’s already waiting by the gate with a big smile. Thankfully, the parking lot is empty, so I can only hope the inside is too, because if I am going to freak out and run away like a scared child, better to only embarrass myself in front of one person, right? Urgh, why am I doing this?

“I was worried you were going to not show,” he says when I reach him, the smile spreading across his lips, and I’m reminded by the swirl in my stomach exactly why I am here.

“I thought about it,” I reply and then follow him through the doors. The smell of chlorine fills my nose immediately and my mind is flooded with memories of the last time I was at a pool. A big one like this. I was ten, and it was someone’s birthday. I stupidly followed my older brothers up the stairs for this big slide, not thinking about what I would do at the bottom when plunged into the cold water at super speed. Nial pulled me out of the water that day, and a lifeguard did the rest, and I never wanted to get back in again.

“Umm, I don’t think this is a good idea after all,” I say as he strips off his sweats and shirt by the edge of the large lap pool. He’s wearing swim shorts that are not that unlike his training shorts, but maybe a touch tighter, and all I can imagine now is what they’ll look like wet and clinging to the shape of him.

“You can touch the bottom at this end. How about we just get in and see how you go?”

My hands are shaking, and my eyes don’t want to shift from the rippling surface of the water.

“I… You must think I’m being stupid.”

He closes the distance between us and takes my hand in his.

“I think something is keeping you out of the water, and that is not stupid. You don’t have to get in if you don’t want to, but you made it here, so maybe deep down you want to try?”

He’s right. I’ve been invited to swim loads of times, always declining the invite, and I avoid Gordon’s pool like the plague, but I showed up here, wearing swim shorts and a towel, fully intending to get in the water with Ryan. Fuck.

“Um, maybe I’ll sit on the edge and watch you for a bit, if that’s cool?”

“Totally.”

He lets go of my hand and walks to the diving blocks on the far end. I strip off my shirt and flip-flops and walk to the edge. I can see the bottom through the clear water, and the sign on the side says four feet. I’m six feet tall, so If I fall in, I can stand and my head will be out of the water, easily. Okay, come on. You can do this, I tell myself, and I slowly sit on the edge of the pool and then slip my feet into the water. It’s warmer than I expected.

“I used to be able to swim the length of this pool in one minute fifteen seconds in college,” Ryan calls as he perches on the block, hands clasping the edge by his feet, ass up in the air.

“Is that good?” I ask, and he tilts his head up to look at me.

“It was great. Now I’m slow as fuck,” he replies, lowering his head and then leaping off into the water. He glides under the surface, and my pulse quickens as the seconds tick by. Then relief washes over me when his head pops up, and he starts swimming through the water towards me. His arms are like propellers, pushing him forward as his body glides behind him. I half expect to see a lot of kicking and splashing of the water, but it looks like his legs are moving at half the speed of his arms, and as he flies past me, he reaches the end, dives forward, and flips under the water. He pushes off the end and starts to come back the other way. But instead of popping back up out of the water, he swims at an angle under the surface towards my feet and then comes up between them.

“That was so slow,” he says, running his hands through his sandy brown hair. Wet like this, you would think it was darker, but in the light on the baseball field, it almost looks like antique gold.

“I think that was super speed. How long have you been swimming for?”

“I was on an athletics scholarship at a private school in the UK before I got into Arizona State, so my whole life I’ve been in and out of the water. I used to play cricket, too. They say that’s how I learned to throw a fastball.”

“I didn’t know you didn’t always play baseball.”

“Yeah, compared to you lot, I’m a newbie, I guess. I went home for a few years after school but then moved to the US for work and the company had a team, so I joined.”

He’s standing in the water, waving his arms in and out and making the surface of the water swirl around my legs. I could just slide in. I can stand. He’s standing, and I am a little taller than him, so I would be able to stand. Before I lose my nerve, I push off the edge and slide down, the water wrapping around my body like a cocoon. My arms go up, and I suck in a breath, but when my feet touch the cool smooth tile floor, I grab the edge with one hand and let the other palm sit on the surface of the water and I let my lungs slowly deflate. Ryan doesn’t move.

“So how did you get into Banana Ball then?” I ask, hoping that talking will lessen the fear taking a grip on my nervous system right now.

“My ex wanted to apply and asked me if I would help with some promo audition tape thing. We recorded a bunch of dances and promos so he could show off his talents and the GM invited me instead of him to fly over.”

“Wow, that must have been a hard pill for him to swallow.”

“It was, which is why he’s now my ex.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was a long time ago now, and I’m better off. Do you want to walk a little?”

I don’t want to let go of the edge. It’s silly, I know. I can stand in this depth, but the idea of it just being me and the water is terrifying.

“I’ll be here with you the whole time,” he says as if reading my mind, and when he holds out his hand, I do the unthinkable and take it, releasing my grip on the edge and taking a step toward him.

It shouldn’t feel different. The edge wasn’t doing anything to keep me up, but it does. The water surrounds us, and as he leads me towards the edge of the shallow end, I find my feet following along without protest. His hand grips mine tightly, resting on the surface of the water between us, and it’s actually amazing.

“It’s like gravity in here is different,” I say as my legs move through the water one slow step at a time.

“It feels good, though, right?”

“Yeah, it does.”

***

The next day, I’m shocked as shit to be back at the pool with Ryan. This time, instead of sliding into the water from the edge, he takes my hand and walks me down the ramp at the side.

“It should be less of a shock to your system to walk in like this,” he says as the depth of water rises over the hem of my shorts and tickles the sensitive skin of my stomach.

“It’s not as…bad,” I say, when the word I want to say is terrifying. It is, though. Still scary as fuck. My heart feels like it wants to explode out of my chest and my brain is screaming, “ Danger. Get out of the water.” But I just squeeze his hand tighter and somehow follow him deeper in.

“Okay, this is far enough, I think,” he says, turning to face me. The water is up to our chest, and his free hand is swishing through the water at his side like he was doing yesterday. My free hand is under the water wedged at my side, my fingers gripping my thigh as a way to distract my brain from convincing me that this is a terrible idea and getting the hell out.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Have you ever…been afraid of something?”

He sort of nods, but the look on his face tells me he’s struggling to think of anything.

“I mean, I’m sure I have been. Everyone is afraid of something, but not like Duckie with airplanes or…this. What does it feel like?”

“Terror.”

“Shit, okay, we can, umm, we can get out.”

“No,” I say before he can move, and I hold his hand tighter. “I don’t want to. I mean. I do want to, but I don’t want to, want to. You know?”

He nods, but I am doing a terrible job of trying to explain, so how could he?

“Think of a situation you would want to run away from, like you’re in the woods and there is a giant feral bear, and it’s running right for you. You want to run away, right? Protect yourself.”

“Depends what kind of bear is it? Some bears you should stand your ground and scream at it to scare them off.”

“Okay, a crazy axe-murderer is running after you trying to kill you. Your whole body would be trying to get away, right?”

“I had this nightmare once I was being chased by a guy with a chainsaw, like in that movie, fuck that was scary.”

“Okay, great, well, the water, the pool, that is my chainsaw murderer.”

“Shit. So your brain is screaming for you to run and your legs want to take off and your heart is racing?” he asks, and he presses his hand against my chest.

“Exactly,” I reply, but my words come out quieter than I expect.

“But you don’t want to get out now?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because when you look at the water, it’s like you’re home, and if something can make you so happy, I don’t think I should let my mind see it only as something that wants to try to kill me.”

“Okay, then we stay in the water. We come every day until it gets easier, until it isn’t a chainsaw murderer anymore. We’ll take it slow. Aim for a lesser evil every time. What is a level down from a chainsaw murderer?”

“Precious.”

***

We’ve been at the pool every day for a week, and this is the furthest I’ve gotten into the water. My shoulders just peek out, but now and then he shifts, sending the surface washing over them, and I don’t hate it. We’ve been walking back and forth, talking for twenty minutes. Another five and I’ll get out and watch him swim a few laps before we head to the field.

I never thought I would ever have the courage to face my fear of the water. It’s been twenty years since Nial pulled me out, and I hadn’t been back in, but in a week, Ryan Tanner has me practically neck deep again.

Reaching the side, Ryan leans his back against it, still holding my hand, and as I move in close, I reach past him with my free hand to grip the edge.

“Thank you for this,” I say, and his smile has those adorable deep dimples drawing my eye.

He turns his head to look at my hand, then his gaze follows my arm along to my shoulder, his big blue eyes shining brighter with the water’s reflection, and when his stare moves to my mouth, and he licks his lips, I do something I really shouldn’t. I lean in and kiss him.