Don't Jump

"Build"

Thomas' marriage was coming to an end and I had no idea how I felt about that. A part of me wanted to talk to her, to get her side of the story. Not that I didn't trust Thomas's word but what he presented to me was as close to a perfect man as anyone could get; why would anyone cheat on goodness?

But, she didn't know me and I was in no mood to have another awkward encounter. Besides, Thomas told me to not worry my pretty little head about it.

When I first met Thomas, I had to admit that there were a few lusty things going through my mind. Had his marriage crumbled during that time, I would have been plotting to celebrate and make him lean towards myself.

I lied. I was a social mess and would have made a fool out of myself so I probably would've just daydreamed about the man coming on to me. A good thing because I saw that he loved his wife and was just as confused as I was, along with a bit heartbroken. All I could do was try to be there for him, no matter how much a teeny part of me wanted to break out in a chorus of "Ding dong, the witch is dead".

I know, how mature of me.

To say that I was disappointed that Thomas didn't make a move on me was an understatement. Maybe I wasn't as beautiful as he said I was; he was probably being polite with me. Maybe I needed to throw the hint out but I couldn't. My palms got sweaty just thinking about having that talk with him. For all I knew, Thomas was still pining over his wife, and as unhealthy as that was, I was too chicken shit to tell him so: I would have to live with being his best mate.

Which wasn't a bad thing, honestly. I got to experience things that I had never thought about, like an upcoming trip to his cabin in some snowy region I had never heard of! Also, tickets to see him in action on the soccer field whenever I wasn't working. Of course, Thomas had to give me a quick course on the sport but it only went in one ear and out the other! I mean, I knew the basics: other players can't touch the ball with their hands, try to stop the other team from scoring a goal. Everything else gave me a slight headache so I told myself that I would either take refresher courses on Youtube or just go along with the crowd as far as the action going on.

I knew that it was a rare treat for spectators but I found myself on the field before the game started, actually before the teams would officially warm up. I took notice that soccer players had a different build than the athletes I was used to: these guys were lean and toned all around. It made me notice Thomas all the more as he jogged towards me. Like I said, he was built more for football so it looked a bit weird to see him on a soccer field. The weather was becoming a bit cooler so Thomas had on those athletic leggings underneath his shorts: his legs were just as defined as the rest of him and I really liked that. Another turn-on of mine was arms and Thomas had enough guns to supply the Marine Corps.

Oh God, no wonder he never hit on me: I'm lame as fuck...

Thankfully, he couldn't read minds and smiled at me. "You actually made it, Love!"

"Y-Yeah, I switched days with someone so I figured–"

"You didn't have to do that for me." his smile widened and I had no idea if he was joking around or not. If not, then I felt like shit because it was a coincidence that a coworker texted me last night about switching shifts with him.

I made up my mind to tell him the truth but before I could say anything, a just as equally tall man came from behind Thomas and roughly threw his arm over his shoulder. This guy was a knockout, with curly blond hair and hazel eyes. When he smiled, dimples appeared which made him look younger than what he probably was. I held my breath when he looked at me, and that smile widened. "Well, now. Don't be rude, Tom; introduce me to your girlfriend," he said and I nearly choked on air.

"She's not my girlfriend," Thomas said after laughing a bit. "You Americans and your assumptions."

"You called her 'love'." the guy pointed out.

"I call everyone Love. Now, if I had said 'pet', then your assumption would be right." Thomas said and the guy smirked.

"And they call us silly! I'm Ryan, by the way." he introduced himself and stuck his hand out. I went to shake his hand and noticed that he held my hand longer than what would be considered friendly.

"T-Tamara."

"Hmm, soft hands," he quirked a brow as he gently rubbed his thumb over my hand. The move sent goosebumps all over my body. "What do you do for a living? If you say a hand model, I'd believe it!"

"She does customer service for the cable company," Thomas answered for me and I gave him a slight look. It was enough for Ryan to finally let go of my hand.

"Ah. So, I can call you for help on an installment?"

"O-Oh. I don't know how to install anything. I just set the appointments... and get cussed out when the installer is late." I smirked. Ryan chuckled and I was almost mesmerized by how his eyes gleamed.

"Well, that's not fair! You make sure to tell your husband to give you a soothing rubdown after work."

"I, I don't have a husband. Or a boyfriend, for that matter." I semi-rushed when I saw that Ryan opened his mouth. He closed it and gave me such a predatory look, I was frozen in my spot.

"Hmm. Too bad," he licked his lips and I fully expected for him to show off fangs, I felt so much like prey. I hadn't come to the conclusion if that was a good or bad thing at the moment. "Well don't expect Tom here to do that for you. Poor guy is all thumbs. It's a miracle he can save anything." Ryan shrugged and he almost found himself flat on his ass, Thomas had shoved him so hard. I covered my mouth to keep from laughing.

I had to get to my seat soon afterward and had to admit that it was a pretty good seat. I still didn't know how much I would be able to follow but I could see the players and the field very well. I was glad that I wasn't so socially awkward to have a panic attack with a crowd because it was like a swarm. No one tried to sit down, especially when the match started. I found out that this game was important because it determined who would make it into the playoffs. This bit of news made me mad; why didn't Thomas tell me that? I felt like an idiot, not wearing any of the team's colors.

Thomas and Ryan played their asses off, crushing their opponents and were now in the playoffs. Watching Thomas make a bunch of saves and Ryan, who I found out was a center forward– arguably one of the most important positions beside the goalies– score all but one of the goals was very exciting. I felt like their personal cheerleader, even almost losing my voice.

I got a text from Thomas, asking me to meet them by the locker room. I didn't have enough credentials to be in the locker room but I could get close enough. On my way there, I heard folks talking around the corner. What made me stop was that the British accent sounded awfully familiar.

"–is all I'm saying."

"Tom... are you trying to get with Tamara? Because if you are, I can easily back off." that sounded like Ryan. My heart sped up, waiting on Thomas to answer. I had a slight feeling that Ryan was interested. I may have wondered why but I wasn't stupid; I knew the signs!

It felt like forever before Thomas answered. "I'm not," he said and I should've known. I still felt bad and a part of me wanted to cry for some odd reason.

I took a deep breath and wiped at my eyes before deciding to walk around the corner. "Oh, hey! Guess I was taking too long?"

"Of course not, Love. Perfect timing." Thomas gave me that warm smile of his.

"So, I was thinking that we should celebrate! I saw you, by the way, cheering for us." Ryan smirked and I blushed. "You just might've been my good luck charm; I've never scored that many goals in one game before. You're going to have to come to all the games from here on out!" he chuckled and I couldn't help but join him.

"I guess I have no problem with that." I smiled at him, and just like that, I tried to forget about the conversation they had seconds ago.

Why did I even think that Thomas would want to be with me?