Page 50 of Things I Wish I Said

Chapter thirty-two

GRAYSON

A soprano tone fills the cabin at the same time the seat belt light clicks off.

Sliding my bookbag out from under the seat in front of me, I pull out the worn paperback.

"You're seriously still reading that thing?" Ry asks.

"I'm almost at the end. Only a couple of chapters to go." I smirk, proud of myself.

Beside me, Ryleigh takes a sip of her mimosa, a devilish grin spreading her lips. “Well, you can read, but I think I'll enjoy the inflight entertainment." She reclines her seat as if to prove her point, then sighs. "Paying extra for first class was totally worth it.”

“No. You should’ve saved your money instead of wasting it on a flight.”

“This mimosa says otherwise.”

I snort, amused with how proud she is of herself.

With a wide-brimmed, floppy hat, sunglasses hooked to the tank she’s wearing, and a purse strapped around her chest, she looks like the perfect tourist, and even though I’m nervous for this trip and what might come out of it, part of me is excited to explore LA with her, too.

“At the very least, you should’ve let me pay for my own,” I say.

“No way. This is my trip.” She points to herself. “You’re just an accomplice.”

“I’m just your accomplice, huh? That’s all I am to you?

” One corner of my mouth curves into a grin, but underneath my teasing tone, I’m serious.

I’ve made it clear I want Ryleigh despite her being sick, but I’d be lying if a part of me didn’t wonder whether she wants me because she’s sick.

A commitment isn’t much of a commitment when you don’t have much time.

And the part of me that’s falling for her is scared to death of her giving up.

Ryleigh rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean. But, if you must know, there’s no one else I’d rather share this with.” Her gaze softens, and her throat bobs. “I’m really glad it’s you, Grayson.”

“Me too.” I try for a smile, but it falls flat.

All I can seem to think about is the promise I made her mother, the one I made to myself.

“Besides, it’s not like I can take the money with me,” she adds.

I swallow, her comment pricking beneath my skin like a thorn.

I lean my seat back and try to relax while Ryleigh drones on excitedly about the itinerary for the next five days, but living in the moment is hard when it feels like an elephant’s sitting on your chest. All I can think about is how I can possibly manage to get her to change her mind about treatment, and what it means if she doesn’t.

There’s so much more riding on this trip than celebrating Ryleigh’s achievements in soccer and bringing her closure.

Her mother’s counting on me. I’m counting on me. Hell, Ryleigh’s counting on me, even if she doesn’t know it.

“Everything okay?” she asks, noticing the shift in my mood.

“Sure, yeah. It’s fine,” I say, wishing it were true.

Once our flight lands and we collect our bags, we make a quick stop at the hotel where they graciously offer to hold them until our room is ready, then catch an Uber.

Ryleigh won’t tell me where we’re going. All I know is she has something planned, and it must be good because she’s practically bouncing in her seat with excitement when we get in the car.

“Look at it here,” she says as she motions to the passing palm trees outside her window. “It’s beautiful.”

I have to admit, the scenery is pretty great.

The streets are teeming with people walking below a clear blue sky.

Someone skates by on a set of rollerblades.

A biker rings their bell, and the pedestrians on the walkway part like the Red Sea.

We pass so many shops I lose count. Restaurants and a theater on our left blur outside my window .

“You still haven’t told me where we’re going,” I say, ducking my head to stare out the windshield as if I might find some clues.

“It’s a surprise.”

“I hate surprises,” I grumble.

Ryleigh laughs. “How about I give you some clues, and if you guess correctly, then I’ll tell you.”

I smirk. “If I guess correctly, you won’t have to tell me. I’ll already know.”

“Smart boy.” She grins, and I shake my head. “Okay, let me see . . .” She taps her lips, and I want to kiss them. “The colors are red, white, and blue.”

I frown. “That sounds . . . patriotic. Is it some kind of museum?”

“Nope.” She grins wider. “The food where we’re going will most likely be outrageously priced, yet low-key. I’ll probably eat a hot dog and my weight in nachos.”

I narrow my eyes to pretend I have it, but I don’t. I don’t know much about Los Angeles, but I certainly can’t think of one place, other than maybe an amusement park, that has cheap junk food at high prices. “Okay, give me more,” I say.

“It’s outside.”

“Is it an amusement park?”

She shakes her head. “This will be my first time going, not just to this particular place, but any of its kind.”

“Have I been somewhere like it?” I ask, completely clueless.

“Oh, I can almost guarantee it.”

I groan. “Come on, Sinclair. You’re killing me. ”

“They won the World Series in 2020.”

My eyes widen, a thrill racing through my veins as my head jerks toward the window, and suddenly I see it. The towering walls of the stadium. Lights stretching into the sky and the Dodgers logo as we come around to the front entrance.

“Holy shit! We’re going to a Dodgers’ game?” I glance back over at Ryleigh to see her smile eating up her face.

“Bingo.”

I take my baseball cap off and rake a hand through my hair while excitement sends my heart racing. “Are you sure this is what you want to do on your first day here? This is your trip, Sinclair.”

“I’m sure. You deserve something for you.”

“But—”

Ryleigh presses a finger over my lips. “I wanted to do this for you.”

I stare into her hazel eyes, more golden than brown or green in the sunlight streaming through her window, and realize I’d give it all up for her. Every. Single. Thing. Baseball, drinking, smoking, college. I’d give up everything for her to just be okay. To live another day.

“Thank you,” I whisper, before stealing a kiss.

Someone clears their throat, and I remember where we are. In a car, with a driver.

When I pull back, Ry bites her lip to hide a smirk. “Let’s go.”

She flings her door open and pulls me out after her.

“Have you really never been to an MLB game?” I ask .

“Nope.” She shakes her head, then laughs at the horror I feel etched on my face. “Is that really so hard to believe? I grew up with a single mom and my obsession was soccer. It may not be in the same season, but it took up all my free time just the same.”

“Fair enough.” I reach down and clasp her hand in mine, bringing it to my mouth for a kiss as we approach the entrance. Much to my surprise, she pulls two tickets out of her purse, and we make it through the gates quickly.

“So you planned this? How far in advance?”

She grins. “Right after my mother gave us her blessing to come.”

“You know, as outrageous as I think it is that you’ve never been to a game, I’m glad your first is with me,” I say, giving her hand a little squeeze.

“That’s not the only first that will be with you this week, De Leon.” She winks, and my mouth turns dry. Any response I might’ve had sticks in my throat like peanut butter.

I run a hand over the back of my neck, a flush creeping over my cheeks.

Shit, I’m blushing like a thirteen-year-old girl.

I have no idea if she’s serious or not. I don’t even know for sure if she’s even a virgin, although from the little she’s told me about her social life and dating experience, I assume she is.

The fact that she would even consider taking that next step with me has my stomach tied in knots.

And though I don’t expect anything from her this week, now all I can fucking think about is how maybe she wants to .

“Um, a little help here?” she says, motioning toward the placard with the seat aisle and numbers on it.

“Oh, crap. Sorry,” I mutter, pulling my head out of the gutter.

But seriously, she can’t say shit like that and expect me to keep my head on straight.

She hands the tickets over with a little laugh as I quickly find the right section and lead us toward our seats.

We descend the stadium stairs when I realize exactly where our seats are and pause. “Sinclair, these are right behind home plate.”

She blinks at me and scrunches her nose. “That’s good right? Because the lady on the phone said—what? Why are you looking at me like that?”

A dry laugh escapes my lips. “Is that good?” I ask, incredulous. “Sinclair, these must have cost a fucking fortune!”

She shrugs, a rueful grin skirting her lips. “It was worth it. Besides, I can’t—”

I press another kiss to her mouth, right there on the stadium steps not giving a shit who’s watching because if I have to hear her say she can’t take her money with her one more fucking time, my heart might implode.

My tongue traces the seam of her mouth before she grants me entry. She tastes like the orange juice and champagne she drank on the plane, an enticing combination.

By the time I pull away, she’s breathless.

Good .

Maybe I wiped the previous thought from her mind.

I have five days, I remind myself. Five days for just us and no one else. Five days to convince her to let me help her.

By the time we leave Dodger Stadium and arrive back at the hotel, it’s only six o’clock, but with the time difference from the East Coast, it’s nine o’clock our time. I can see the fatigue in Ryleigh’s sloth-like gait as she climbs out of the Uber and waits for me to join her on the sidewalk.

Her face is sun-kissed from the game, the light sprinkle of freckles over her nose more prominent than when we left, and when she glances up at me, she yawns. “We’ll just check in, see our room, and then we can go to dinner.”

I chuckle because Sinclair on a good day is gorgeous, but Sinclair tired and pretending not to be is fucking adorable. “I have a better idea.” I pull her into my arms, just in front of the glass doors and stare down at her.

“Oh?”