Just Friends With Benefits (40 page)

I started walking toward the exit but remembered my pocketbook was still at my table. I mumbled, “Fuck,” did an about-face and sprinted towards the back of the restaurant. I had tunnel vision and didn’t look to see if Ryan was watching me.

God had done me at least one favor that afternoon in that no one had stolen my bag while I was pouring out my soul to Ryan. It was still where I had left it, hanging off the edge of the chair. I grabbed it by the strap and did a quick 180, desperate to get as far away as possible from Ryan. I had barely put one foot in front of the other when I, once again, heard a large crash because, once again, I knocked over the fucking chair. I didn’t think my day could possibly get worse but at that point nothing would’ve surprised me. I quickly picked up the chair and ran out of the restaurant, this time not bothering to see if anyone, including Ryan, had witnessed the scene.

When I got outside, I ran as fast as I could to the end of the block and stopped to catch my breath and contemplate what had just happened. I was surprisingly calm. My life still sucked but at least I had the opportunity to tell Ryan how I felt. I wouldn’t have to wonder if things would have been different if I’d had the chance to explain myself. I’d still wonder what our life would have been like if I hadn’t broken up with him—whether we’d stay together, get married and procreate—but I’d apologized and even told him I loved him, something I hadn’t even realized until the moment the words came out of my mouth. I wished I’d realized it before it was too late but my life was a collection of Monday morning quarterback moments and hindsight really was 20/20. I shrugged my shoulders and muttered, “Life’s a bitch and then you die.”

I decided the tears would have to wait until I got home and I began the walk back to my apartment. I sat for a while in Stanton Park and watched a couple tossing a frisbee. They looked almost like Ryan and me except Ryan was way cuter than the guy and the girl was probably smart enough to actually appreciate her boyfriend. I thought back to playing catch with Ryan and making out with him in the grass afterwards. I never once worried he would shoo away my kisses but it hadn’t occurred to me until now. So much for holding back the tears. I got up from the park bench and walked the rest of the way home.

I was across the street from my building when my phone rang. There was no way I could hold a conversation and so I ignored it. Whoever it was could just leave me a message. But as I approached my lobby, I heard the signal that I had a text message. Wishing whoever it was would just leave me the hell alone, I removed the phone from my bag, prepared to throw it in the fricking garbage. I didn’t really care to engage in text message ping-pong but curiosity got the best of me and I needed to know who exactly had the poor timing to text me in my moment of despair.

It was Ryan. My legs started shaking immediately and I felt lightheaded. Scared I might faint, I walked back outside, sat down on one of the concrete steps outside of my building and stared at my phone. What did he want? What if he wanted to yell at me? I thought about deleting the text without reading it, but I couldn’t do it. He gave me the chance to explain myself and I figured he deserved the opportunity to let me have it if he so desired. But I couldn’t bear to be yelled at right now. I was still too raw. I made the decision to wait until I was in a better state of mind. Then I clicked ‘open’ on the message.

It said, “I have one more question for you.”

One more question for me? What the hell did that mean? I stared at the message for a while until I felt someone standing over me, blocking the sun. But less than a second later, the shadow had passed and out of the corner of my eyes, I could see that someone was sitting next to me. When I looked up, Ryan was perched on the step within kissing distance, his blue eyes peering directly into my hazel ones.

I couldn’t believe he was there. How was it possible to be both totally psyched to see someone and scared shitless at the same time? I was still shaking and aware that he knew it, but I couldn’t stop. I opened my mouth, wondering if I still had the ability to speak and whispered, “You wanted to ask me something?”

Looking at me intently, he said, “It’s a very serious question.”

I wanted to kiss him so badly it hurt. “Ask away,” I said.

“Which blonde?”

I opened my mouth to answer before registering the question and then realized I had no idea what he was talking about. “What?”

Ryan’s lips curled up slightly and he said, “You never did tell me which blonde on ‘Three’s Company’ was your favorite.”

I wondered if this was his idea of closure and said, “Chrissy.” I tried not to look at his lips and asked, “What about you?”

“I prefer brunettes, actually,” he said.

“Janet? Really?”

Ryan shook his head and smiled.

As I pondered how he could possibly smile at a time like this, I asked, “Who then?”

“I like brunettes with long hair.”

His proximity to me was overwhelming and, wracking my brain for another brunette on the show, I stood up and said, “Greedy Gretchen?”

He smiled again—this time a full-on grin that reached his eyes—stood up too and said, “No, Stephanie. No one on the show. Do you know of any other long-haired brunettes?”

The light bulb turned on. “I’m a brunette with long hair,” I said.

Inching closer to me, Ryan said, “Exactly.”

I braved to say out loud the question dangling on the tip of my tongue, although I wasn’t sure he’d hear it over the sound of my beating heart. “Does that mean you like me?”

Ryan paused and shook his head. I stared at him as he examined my face like he’d been blind until that very moment. Finally, he said, “It actually means I kind of love you.”

I had cotton mouth but somehow managed to produce saliva, swallowed it and said, “You do?”

Ryan nodded his answer.

I remembered how psyched I was when he told me over the phone that he forgave me, but seconds later he said he didn’t want to go out with me anymore. I refused to jump the gun again this time. Crossing my fingers behind my back, I asked, “And you want to be with me again?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Really?”

“Yes, Stephanie. Really.”

“You’re sure?”

Still smiling, he said, “I’m positive, Stephanie. You really pissed me off but, what can say, I’m a sucker for girls who knock over chairs, I guess.”

I finally smiled back—wider than I did when Gerard told me about the promotion—the kind of smile that couldn’t be contained. Then I shouted, “Yippee!”

Ryan just shook his head and laughed at me.

Beaming shamelessly, I jumped into his arms and wrapped my legs around his waist, almost knocking us both over. Then I kissed him hard on the lips and whispered in his ear, “I love you, too.”

My feet back on the ground, but still holding him tight and inhaling his scent, I sang, “And if I can’t have you, I don’t want nobody, baby.”

Two months later.

I took a sip of my champagne punch and observed Ryan and Paul sitting on Jess and Eric’s living room floor putting together the train set Eric’s aunt and uncle had bought for Aidan. From the cackles of laughter, I could tell they were having a little too much fun playing and I hoped the train set would still be functioning by the time Aidan could actually use it—he wasn’t even born yet and the package said it was appropriate for ages three and up.

“Hey, Stephanie.”

I turned my attention away from Ryan and Paul and looked at Hille, who was now at my side, along with a built guy with shaggy blonde hair and a bronzed complexion. I reached over and gave Hille a kiss. “Hey, Craig! Good to see you!”

Smiling widely, Hille said, “Good to see you, too!” Gesturing to his friend, he said, “This is Thomas.”

Deciding that Thomas looked like a human version of the cartoon character Fred Jones from Scooby Doo, I said, “Hi there. So nice to meet you.”

“Same here. Craig’s told me so much about you, I feel like I know you already.” Thomas smiled shyly, making me question what exactly about me was discussed.

I grinned at Hille and said, “Not sure if that’s a good thing or not!”

Hille smiled warmly and said, “It’s all good, kid.”

“Okay, I need a refill on my beer,” Thomas said. “Either of you need anything?” He looked from me to Hille and when both of us shook our heads, he walked away, leaving us alone.

Hille took a sip of his beer and asked, “So, how’s it going, Steph?”

I looked over at Ryan, who caught my eye and winked. “Really well. Life’s good, Craig. What about you?”

“Life’s good on my end, too.” Hille looked over at Ryan and Paul and turned back to me with a smile. “I’m so happy you and Ryan worked things out. I felt incredibly guilty for my part in your breakup.”

“We’ve actually made it past the three and a half month itch. I guess we’re in the big leagues now! Anyway, it wasn’t your fault at all, Craig. It was mine. And honestly, I think everything happened for a reason.” I raised my shoulders in a shrug and turning my palms upward said, “Who knows? If I hadn’t made a fool of myself with you, I might not have realized how much I cared for Ryan.”

Hille patted me on the shoulder. “You didn’t make a fool of yourself, Steph.”

I looked at him doubtfully. “You’re too kind.”

He laughed. “Seriously. But, I agree, everything does happen for a reason. It’s funny, just a few months ago, I would have insisted there was no such thing as fate but I’m not so sure anymore. If it wasn’t for you, who knows when I would’ve come out? I should probably thank you for making a fool of yourself over me.”

Giggling, I said, “I’m glad I could be of assistance.” I vaguely remembered the weeks spent crying over my enormous lapse in judgment but now it seemed like a lifetime ago—someone else’s lifetime, in fact.

When Thomas returned with his bottle of beer in hand, I took the opportunity to excuse myself. I walked over to Ryan who was now chatting with Jess and Hope’s dad.

“Okay, so we didn’t have a great season. But the Orioles are going all the way in twenty-ten,” he said to a skeptical Mr. McElroy.

I put my arm around Ryan and said, “In your dreams, Sweetie.” I turned to Mr. McElroy and said, “My boyfriend is too loyal for his own good, John.”

“Loyalty is a virtuous quality,” John said.

After Mr. McElroy walked away, I looked at Ryan and actually felt my heart expand to make room for the feelings I had for him which seemed to grow with each moment we spent together. “He’s right, you know,” I said.

Ryan put his hands on my waist and asked, “Right about what?”

“Loyalty is a virtuous quality— in baseball fans and in boyfriends.”

Ryan looked at me thoughtfully and said, “You can’t give up on something just because it doesn’t always perform the way you want it to. Sometimes even the best pitchers give up too many hits. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna switch teams.” Then he smiled and said, “And just because my sexy girlfriend sometimes breaks up with me for gay dudes doesn’t mean I should give up on her either.”

I hugged him and said, “I only did that once, Ryan.”

“Uh, yeah. And once was enough,” Ryan said.

“Ya think? Cuz Thomas is awfully cute.”