Page 69 of Untying the Knot
So excuse me while I blink a few times, trying to understand where this man comes from.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Yes, sorry. I’m just trying to process how honest you are. Not sure I’ve ever met someone like you.”
“I’m just trying to be open with you, Myla.” His eyes connect with mine, and his arm draped on the couch falls between us. His fingers tangle with mine until our palms are connected. His hands are rough, calloused, and worn. They look far too old for his young body, but they’re large, thick, and sexy. “You told me you have baggage. I’m attempting to show you that you can trust me with that. I’m not here to play games. I’m not here to coax you into bed for one fucking hot night. I’m here because I like you, I want to get to know you more, and maybe, if you’re ready one day, you’ll let me take you out on a date, but I want to go at your pace. So yeah, I’m giving you the option on how to approach the somber mood you just fell into. I don’t want to push you or make you uncomfortable. I want you to know that when you’re around me, with me, you can rest on my shoulder, on my strength, on my courage, and any burden you might be carrying, I’ll help you carry it as well.”
I wet my lips, biding my time before I respond. My throat has grown tight from his speech because . . . I can see the sincerity in his proposition. I can feel it. It’s so tempting to unload on someone else, to let them carry the nightmares, the worthless feelings I have of myself. But . . . he’s too good. The best, actually, and all I’d do is drag him down. I know this.
On a deep breath, I say, “I appreciate your honesty, Ryot. I really do.”
“Why do I feel like there’s a ‘but’ attached to that sentence?”
“Because there is.” I let go of his hand and turn so my back is against the couch, my eyes filling with tears. I can’t possibly look at him when I say this. “I like you, Ryot, so much that it scares me. I know what I have to offer, and it’s not much. I know the toll my past has taken on me and the negative thoughts I have in my head, the worthless thoughts I carry daily. And I don’t deserve to take any of your strength or your courage because I would take too much. I would become reliant on that.” I finally turn to face him. “You are big, Ryot. You have a life that you’re building on, that you’re creating, a great life that is only just beginning. Your dreams, your ambitions, they don’t align with my trajectory in life. And what’s going to end up happening is that I’ll hurt you. I know it. I can feel it in my bones. And I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to hurt you, so . . . I think that it’s best if we just stop talking to each other.”
He doesn’t answer right away as he continues to gaze at me. I can see his mind working, his brain attempting to figure out how to respond in the right way and not in a reactionary way.
After a few moments of silence, he leans forward on his thighs, and when he speaks, it’s quiet. “I’m not sure I’m the guy you think I am.” He clasps his hands in front of him. “I’m awkward, I’m unsure of myself on a daily basis. Hell, I went out with a girl once, and after that, sent her flowers once a day for a week. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing when it comes to this shit. All I know is that I like you, that I’ll be honest with you, and when or if you ever decide to let me into your world, I won’t hurt you. I’ll only protect you. I will always listen to you, acknowledge you, and hopefully, make you feel as special as I know you are.”
After a large sigh, he stands from the couch just as there is a knock on the door.
Great, the food is here.
Without saying a word, he grabs the food for us and then sets it on the kitchen counter. He doesn’t take a seat, and he doesn’t start dishing it out. He just leaves it on the counter and then faces me.
Hands stuffed in his pockets, he looks up at me, those devastatingly handsome eyes penetrating my very soul. “I don’t want to pressure you, Myla, so I’m going to give you your space as you asked. I want you to know, though, that I’m not mad at you. I’m not distancing from you. I’m just respecting you. And for the record, just in case I didn’t make it clear enough, I like you too, Myla. A lot. You make me smile, you make me happy, you make me think, and you make me feel alive. If you’re ever wondering what you bring to the table, it’sallthose things. In the world of baseball, we don’t get much time to breathe, but you, you’re my breath of fresh air.” With a sad smile, he takes off toward the door and exits the apartment, leaving me in a puddle of emotions. And words. Lots of incredibly kind and thoughtful words. Words I never thought I’d hear directed at me.
I like you too, Myla. A lot. You make me smile, you make me happy, you make me think, and you make me feel alive. If you’re ever wondering what you bring to the table, it’sallthose things...you’re my breath of fresh air.
What the hell do I do with that?Why the hell am I so messed up?
* * *
**RYOT**
“She message?”Penn asks as he sits next to me in the locker room.
I shake my head and set my phone down. “No.” Leaning back in my plush chair just in front of my locker, I say, “It’s been three fucking weeks. I know I told her I’d give her space, but fuck, I thought that maybe she’d contact me by now.”
“Dude, have you thought that maybe she’s not the right person for you?” Penn asks as Walker approaches and sits on the other side of me.
A year ago, Walker and Penn never would have been seen within five feet of each other. A longtime rivalry between the two made locker room chats increasingly uncomfortable. But after a rough year, a lot of honesty, and Penn admitting he had a drinking problem and going to rehab, we’re now able to sit peacefully in the locker room without them staring each other down. It was so weird. They were unstoppable on the diamond together. Penn as pitcher, Walker as catcher. Pure magic. Even though off the field was such a different story. Now, thank fuck, they’re almost friends.Andstill unstoppable.
“Are you talking about Myla?” Walker asks as he picks up one of his cleats and adjusts the shoelaces.
“Yeah,” I answer. “It’s been three weeks. I just figured by this point, she would have contacted me. I even . . .” I rub my palm into my eye. “Hell, I even posted a video of me in the batting cages on Instagram, knowing she hates those videos, and it’s been radio silence.”
“I’m thinking she’s not the right girl for him,” Penn says. “I know she interests you, and you like her, but dude, you can’t chase someone who doesn’t want to be chased.”
“I realize that, but I know she likes me. She told me she did, but she’s just not letting herself like me. There’s a difference, you know? With the time I’ve spent with her and the messages we’ve shared, I know there’s something special between us, and I would hate to just give up on that.”
“You might have to,” Walker says. “It took me a long fucking time to get together with Kate, and as you know, I had to let her go at one point. If it’s meant to be, then it will happen. But if you push it, you might push her away.”
“I understand that, but my fear is that she’s not going to ever come to me, that she’s so in her head about not deserving a chance, that she’ll just walk away.”
Penn places his hand on my shoulder. “Then she walks away, man.”
I let out a heavy sigh and kick my feet up on my locker.
