Page 39 of The List of Things

“How fitting.”

My smile is quick after that one. Bellamy is smooth, he knows just how to talk to me, and I don’t know who taught him, but he’s doing great.

He finishes the braid, and ties my hair, flipping the tail over my shoulder, “I know you’ve got a strong voice. I brought you here because when I train by myself I get a little lazy. I figured you could help me with my form, with everything I do. Yell when I need to step it up, considering I know you love football.”

I feel my stomach heat up.

“You know I love it. So you want me to help you train?” I know he’s giving me insight into the game, to the team, and I also know this could help my reputation with Coach too.

Bellamy is the star after all. I feel a tug on my heart at the thought of this gesture. One he’d probably brush off, and pretend isn’t that big of a deal when in reality it is. If Bellamy can trust me with his training on the field, the coach will listen to that. This list was silly and stupid, but he’s going above and beyond to show me that he’s a really, really good guy.

“That’s the idea... Every few days. Can you wrap me up first?” I nod without a second thought.

“Yeah, where’s your tape?” He reaches into the bag, bringing it out.

He tosses me the roll, and I catch it, coming over to him. He holds out his right hand to me, flipping it up to the sky. He gets taped often from what I can see. He seems to be used to it. This is the hand he throws with. I start where I usually do, my eyes fixed on his hand. I can feel his gaze on me, and when I look up at him, I can see his smirk easily.

“I don’t want to hear it from you, I’m being professional right now.”

He knows. He always knows when he’s affecting me and normally that would annoy me. But he’s so hot. That’s such a silly way to put it. It almost makes me feel childish saying it to myself, but it’s so true. He’s just that attractive, to the point where I can barely look at him sometimes.

“This is what you want to do for a living and you can barely keep your cool.”

I fight the urge to argue. I’ve never had a problem with anyone’s hands I’ve worked with or on while being on any field or court… Bellamy’s hands are very large compared to most. It’s just different. This isn’t a normal thing for me, but he doesn’t need the ego boost knowing it’s only his hands.

“I’ll manage,” I turn his hand over to look over my work. I bring my mouth to the tape and rip with my teeth, something I normally wouldn’t do, but I can since it’s just us. I wrap each wrist, and then his fingers as well, making sure to do a good job on each. I finish and look at him. “Anywhere else?”

He shakes his head, his eyes looking at me like I’m the most important thing in the world. Having Bellamy’s attention, his full attention… It’s intimidating, to say the least.

“Nope, you got it,” He flips my chin up before backing up. “Thanks, Ryn,” He smiles a wide smile, and I press my lips together.

He starts with simple stretches, and I do them with him, following his movements, easily making him laugh. He tosses me the football, and I toss it back, the best I can. I’m fit, but I’m not Bellamy, no one is.

He truly amazes me with his strength, with how far he can throw a football. I’m not easily impressed considering how much of the sport I watch, how much of all the sports I watch on the TV or in person. But Bellamy has always impressed me, even when I wasn’t tutoring him, and he was just a person on a field in front of me. I barely knew him at all until this year, just of him. Just of his talent on the turf.

“What team?”

I shake my head at his question, using all my strength to throw the ball back to him, “That’s a loaded question. What team for what?”

Bellamy’s arms flex as he preps himself, then he throws the ball straight back to me, a perfect spiral. This is a test of my mental strength as much as it is my physical strength. Bellamy looks better on the field than he does anywhere else, he’s comfortable. He’s sexy, he’s showing off his skills, and his body. I push past the intrusive thoughts and continue on.

“What team do you want to do this for? What team do you want to work with for the rest of your life?” He asks me as I catch his pass, moving back a bit at the impact of the ball hitting my chest.

I’m going to have bruises from this damn ball.

“That’s not an easy answer. I want to be close enough to my mom and dad… But I don’t love the Washington Commanders as a team. Ideally... I love the 49ers as well as the city of San Francisco, but I also love the Raiders. If I had nothing holding me back at all, the Giants. New York sounds exciting,” I tell him. “What about you? What NFL team is your dream?”

His amusement is prominent across all of his features. I wonder if he could ever talk about football with any of his other girlfriends or if they ever cared. Not that he’s really my boyfriend, but still.

“Well… I’m also not the biggest fan of the Commanders, but I love the 49ers. I love the Broncos too, or even the Packers. I’m honestly shocked you’re a Giants fan. Can’t say I love the team, but I love the city. But if I had to pick one, nothing holding me back either I think I’d pick the Miami Dolphins, that was my dad’s favorite team, and I love the beach, the warmth, and the ocean. Miami sounds exciting.”

We both know there’s hardly any way of knowing who or what team you could play for, it's fun to dream, to wish, and to hope. Truly, I’d work for any team that was willing to have me, even if it was The Commanders.

“I like the drive the Giants have. My dad and I watch them together, and we love them so I guess we have that in common, wanting to work with our parent’s favorite… Though I don’t really like the Dolphins colors.”

He gasps at my words, and I smirk at the small dig.

“I think you’d look great in Giants colors Ryn,” His mouth twists into a smile that makes my stomach tighten.

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