End Game (Bellevue Bullies 4)

Chapter Twenty-Four

Sofia

I grin at my phone,when I should be paying attention to the movie Amelia is making me watch. I’m not, but I’m all giddy. That’s how it’s been ever since I met Ryan. He continues to surprise me, and my very first date was something I’ll never forget. I doubt anyone will ever come close to it either. I’m starting to think that’s how all my firsts with Ryan will be.

I pull the blanket up on to my neck since Amelia keeps stealing it, and I lean my head against the pillow we share as I watch Ryan’s text bubble.

Ryan: So you gonna get the all-around?

Me: Duh.

Ryan: For me?

My lips purse as I shake my head.

Me: I guess I do owe you since you got me a goal.

Ryan: Exactly. Get me the all-around.

Me: Surprised you’re not asking for a 10.

Ryan: You’re already a 10 in my eyes.

Sigh. Swoon. Ah. Ryan…

God, he so dreamy.

Me: Such a suck-up.

Ryan: Is it really sucking up if I’m speaking the truth about my amazing, gorgeous, and fucking talented girlfriend?

His girlfriend.

I’m Ryan Justice’s girlfriend.

I never thought this would happen, especially not with someone like Ryan. He’s so driven, just like me, and I always thought I’d be attracted to someone who would be fine just being around me. Who wouldn’t have dreams ’cause mine are so big. Honestly, I saw myself alone, but Ryan messes with that.

Completely.

Me: I guess not.

Ryan: That’s right. I wish I could have seen you before you left.

Ryan: I need a kiss.

Me: I kissed you when you dropped me off!

Ryan: Yeah, but then I had a shitty practice, and when I was done, you were gone.

Me: What happened?

Ryan: I missed a shot, and my coach lit into me for it.

Me: It happens.

Ryan: Yeah, but I missed four.

Me: Why?

Me: You’re too good for that.

Ryan: I wasn’t focused.

Me: Well, that’s not okay. Get focused, Justice!

Ryan: Well hell, I will now!

I giggle softly as his next text comes through.

Ryan: I just want to see you.

Me: Tomorrow?

Ryan: When do you get in?

Biting my lip, I put my phone down. “Hey, Amelia, when are we getting back tomorrow?”

She peeks her head over the pillow. Her hair is in a crazy bun, and she has a face mask on like most of the girls do. She shrugs. “I think ten. Meet starts at six, two-hour drive, so yeah, ten-ish.” She leans back, and I lift my phone, but when she peeks back over at me, I put it in my lap. “Why? Is Ryyyyannnn asking?” she asks, drawing out his name and making me narrow my gaze.

“Maybe.”