Micky chuckled. “I would have liked to see you try, and… ‘g’day?’ You’ve only been with Nate here for a couple of days, and already your accent is coming back.”
“It’s true,” I added, having noticed on the phone a few subtle differences from what I thought to be a bit of an American accent to something a little more like mine.
“Trying to get ready for heading back home. Don’t wanna stand out like a sore thumb,” he jested. Ryan reached past me and picked up his beer, which I’d been guarding.
“For your vacation, right? A short trip before you come back and we seriously start talking about next year and you being a free agent.”
My focus moved to Ryan, wondering if he’d been avoiding this discussion. His brows furrowed slightly, head tilting. I knew this reaction. Knew full well this was him holding back from rolling his eyes and sighing.
“Yeah, I know. We’ll talk.”
Part of me felt like I should step away, but the quick snap of Ryan’s attention to me before he refocused on Micky told me he didn’t want me going anywhere.
Micky’s tone remained the same as every other word he’d spoken in the last few minutes. “I know we’ve only just finished this season, and there’s a whole other season to go, but we need to start looking for the best deal for you.”
“I get it, Micky. Thanks.” Ryan’s voice was tight. It was clear that he didn’t want to be thinking about so far into the future, and based on the bombshell he’d dropped when I’d first arrived, I understood it.
“You know I’m just looking out for you.” Micky’s tone changed a little, this time appearing so much more genuine. “That ankle of yours, ice it, and perhaps take your weight off it for a while.”
Guilt slammed into me. After beers and riding on the high of the win and celebrating the end of their season, the last thing I’d considered was Ryan’s ankle. “Shit, he’s right. Is it hurting?” I grimaced and eyed his covered ankle.
“I’m okay,” he answered, glancing at me. I bit my lip to stop myself from calling bullshit. I expected it was the booze in his system making it feel okay. That and the high of the game.
“Remember we’re staying in LA for an extra day before we head back.”
“Got it.” Micky nodded. “I’ll email you anything you need to know for when you get to Minnesota so you can wrap things up as quickly as possible ready for your flight next week. Just promise me you’ll look after that ankle, okay?”
He offered Micky a head lift. “Will do. We’re heading to the hotel.”
That was something at least. I said goodbye to Micky and waved off a few of the players, all while wondering why Ryan perhaps wasn’t being honest with his agent. I was pretty sure over the past few years he’d looked out for Ryan and done right by him.
Once in the cab, and a little blinded by the camera flashes that had taken me by surprise, I focused on the bright city lights and the overwhelming amount of traffic. “Have you been to LA much?” I cast Ryan a quick glance before turning my attention to the sights. While he seemed more together than a few minutes ago, he’d gone quiet. A sure sign he was lost in thought, probably overthinking.
“Only once that wasn’t linked to work.”
I chuckled.
“What?”
“Nothing really, it’s justwork. Can you believe your job is playing professional basketball?” I angled toward him as much as the seat belt would allow. “I always knew you could do it, but seeing you today….” I shook my head, awe and emotion sweeping through me at just how spectacular he’d been on the court. Shit, I’d had far too much to drink if I was close to weeping with pride over the man.
My gaze snagged Ryan’s before dropping to the soft smile on his mouth. “Sometimes I pinch myself,” he admitted, lowering his voice.
“I bet you do.” I stopped speaking when the car pulled over, and I figured we’d arrived at the hotel. “This us?” I peered out the window at the bustling street and finally saw the hotel’s sign. “Yep.”
I looked on as Ryan handed the guy a few bills and stepped out, shaking my head. When he joined me, I said, “I keep forgetting about the whole tipping thing.” Tipping was alien to me, something we didn’t really do in Australia.
Ryan grunted as his hand latched on to my arm, leading me out of the path of a rowdy group. He started saying something about tipping, but it took everything in me just to remember to breathe, let alone pay attention to his words or our surroundings. My whole focus was on his warm fingers on my arm. And if that wasn’t a cue to remind me just how much trouble I could get in being here with Ryan, then I didn’t know what else could be more obvious.
“Huh?” We’d made it inside the foyer and stopped short.
“Beer or jet lag finally kicking in?” His mouth twitched.
It would be easy to blame the booze, but in all honesty, my buzz had mellowed considerably. And my jet lag had seriously been nonexistent, courtesy of my upgrade. Rather than bullshitting him, I answered, “Just overwhelmed by being here, finally seeing you play, spending time with you.”
As I spoke, his gaze roamed my face, alternating between my eyes before continuing their journey. There was a moment’s hesitation before Ryan said, “I was asking if you wanted a beer at the bar, but I think we should head to the suite instead.”
I bobbed my head, up for anything he wanted to do. Being alone with him after a full-on day and surrounded by so many people was a decision I happily got on board with. “Sounds good.”
