L.A. was a different world from San Francisco.
There were many similarities between the cities. The beautiful architecture. The sunny skies. Some of the best restaurants known to man. The friendly smiles of strangers. The carefree attitudes. Those were the good things.
The bad, Sydney discovered, was a laundry list: the unbelievably cattiness of some women, who gave Sydney a dirty look when all she did was smile at them; the insane traffic jams that meant a 10-mile distance was a 45-minute drive; the uneasiness of hearing a helicopter circling every so often and the non-stop sounds of sirens.
Sydney discovered, however, it didn't matter if they were in her too-cramped apartment back in San Francisco or at Dean's home in Manhattan Beach. Wherever he was, was where she wanted to be.
Blech.
She'd been in L.A. for only a few hours and there went her brain, secretly planning a trip to go registry shopping and wondering what china patterns would go nice in Dean's home. She already envisioned couples' dinners with his fellow teammates and their wives or girlfriends. Soon after that, there would be play dates with a mini-Sydney or a mini-Dean and Sydney hoped a mini-Dean had his father's beautiful eyes.
There I go again…
She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. She was about a sentence away from breaking up with dude just a few hours ago and now she's silently reciting how Sydney Ambrose sounded. She was no longer a grown woman in control of her emotions and her life; she was a lovesick adolescent teen who still had posters of her favorite boy bands covering the walls and giggled whenever she heard the word penis.
She barely knew Dean and vice-versa. Maybe that's what made the electricity between them so hot. They got to know each other as they went along and it was never a rush to find out. They were in discovery mode. They were content in pure silence or watching a movie. They talked about everything under the sun and against the moon.
When they made love, it felt like when they were back in Chicago, except it was ten times hotter. They were unbridled with their souls to bare and eyes wide open to each other. They christened every room in his home, with promises to do other positions in different rooms eventually.
Eventually.
She didn't want to get her hopes up with the elephant in the room regarding their future. Dean all but said he wanted her there with him full-time and all of the time. Sydney, however, wished she could be so certain.
She knew what her problem was – she'd always traveled the safe road. Why take turns when it was smooth sailing straight ahead? What really sucked was that she did that in every aspect of her life. She'd listened and been the unwilling go-to shoulder for her friends to cry on and that soured her on dating. She took a retail job because she was good at it, but it wasn't her passion. Even her wardrobe consisted of dark and solid colors; no patterns or anything of the sort.
She was a plain Jane.
She was boring.
And she was currently dating one of the league's most valuable players.
Such her luck.
She wandered throughout the home while Dean was soundly asleep, trying to figure out her life. As her bare feet sank into the plush navy blue carpet, she wondered why she liked to deliberately sabotage her life. She knew the issue wasn't Dean and it wasn't the distance. Again, it was an available excuse for her not willing to take a chance on something new and someone different.
So many women would jump at the chance at dating Dean and Sydney had done more than enough private Google research on her own regarding his lothario reputation. Even Sydney was surprised she didn't care so much about that now that he was with her.
Her feet found their way to the man cave and available pool table at her disposal. As she racked up the balls and powdered her stick, Sydney truly wondered one thing about herself:
Why did she try so hard to sabotage her life?
Dean rolled over to snuggle with Sydney and instead, found a cold, empty space where her warm body used to occupy. He suddenly woke up and looked around his bedroom. He walked throughout the home, calling for her, and wondered where could she have possibly escaped to.
The familiar sound of billiard balls clacking against each other told her where she was. He went downstairs and found his girlfriend, bent over in the tiniest pair of boy shorts and a too-small cami tank, looking studious as she tried to angle herself just right for her next shot.
"Don't ruin my shot. Don't ruin my shot. Don't ruin my shot." She warned to him.
"Damn, you look so fucking sexy right now…" he taunted.
"Damnit, Dean! Do not ruin my shot." Sydney smiled. "Do not ruin my shot."
"I would totally love to step behind and fuck you until…"
Sydney mistepped and her concentrated effort went to hell as the cue ball only moved a few inches. "Damnit!" She stood up and pursed her lips, narrowed her eyes, and shook her fist at her boyfriend. "You…are…awful."
Dean walked behind Sydney and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to him. "Mmm…you like me being awful." He breathed against her neck.
Little zaps of pleasure crawled all over Sydney's body and she instantly felt the need to feel Dean on top of her again. "Don't you get tired?"
"Of you?" He kissed the nape of her neck. "Never."
It was like finding out her favorite crush liked her back and wanted to ask her to the winter formal. Sydney felt giddy like a 14-year-old girl at a boy band concert and the lead singer just singled her out. "You're terrible for me."
"I think that's a lie." He continued to plant small kisses on her neck. "I think I'm pretty damn good for you. I also think you're pretty damn good for me. But you know what I also think?"
"Hmm?"
"I also think you want to talk to me about something that's bothering you," he turned her around and stared into her eyes, "so what's up, buttercup?"
Sydney put down the pool stick and Dean sat on top of the pool table. She followed his lead. "I've always played the safe route. When others turned left, I turned right. If people went one way, I made sure I went the other. If I saw friends experiment and did things I didn't like or wouldn't do, I made extra sure I would never get in that position."
"So being here with me scares you?" He asked.
"My past boyfriends never encouraged me to do anything but be me. They took me as is. Looking back, I can honestly say those were probably some of the most boring relationships I have ever had." She let out the breath she had been holding. "But with you, I'm questioning everything. Do I want to stay in San Francisco? Do I want to stay at Macy's? What in the hell do I want to do? Like, I'm not even worried about whether we'll be together because I'm certain now I want to be with you."
"There's a saying that I love and I'm going to tell it to you," Dean leaned in, "if it scares you, you should do it."
Sydney smiled and shook her head. "You always know what to say and when to say it."
"I have years of being stupid behind me," Dean admitted, "maybe too many. But I know what I want out of this life and we only get one. Do I want to look back on everything and go, 'Man, I so wish I did X…'? Or do I want to look back on my life and go, 'I kicked so much ass, it's pretty unbelievable I didn't get arrested for what I did.' It's all about what you want."
"I'm perfectly flawed. I'm great at some things and I'm horrible at others." Dean shrugged. "I'm okay with that. Who wants to be great at everything all the time? That's boring."
"True." She agreed.
"Now that we've gotten that out of the way," Dean looked behind him at the pool table, "let's play."
"Sure thing." Sydney began to hop off the pool table when Dean stopped her and pulled her on top of him.
"No, I want to play with you."