Читать книгу Passion Overtime - Pamela Yaye - Страница 10

Kyra felt Terrence’s hand on her lower back, and narrowed her eyes in disgust. Where did he get off touching her? Her first thought was to smack his hand away, but she didn’t want to appear uptight. President Morrow wanted Terrence to coach the Hollington Lions and until the ex-footballer accepted the job, she had to play nice.

Refusing to shy away from his gaze, she stared up at him, marveling at how youthful he looked even after all these years. The edges of his fine, dark hair were trimmed, giving the thirty-two year-old sports star a clean, polished appearance. His short-sleeve shirt and jeans couldn’t disguise his long athletic physique. Terrence Franklin reeked of masculinity and although Kyra wasn’t attracted to him, she loved the way his muscles filled out his designer shirt.

“Have you been working at Hollington since graduation?”

The friendly expression on his face didn’t fool her. The former NFL running back was trouble, and Kyra knew if she ever let her guard down, she’d be sorry. “No, I worked at an advertising agency for a few years before applying here. This is my—”

Their conversation came to a halt when the door to the registrar’s office flew open and a group of bright-eyed students rushed out. “Hey, look, it’s Terrence Franklin!”

Worried she might get trampled on, Kyra moved off to the side and watched in amusement as Terrence greeted the awestruck freshmen. A small crowd gathered around him, and though he smiled apologetically at her, it was obvious he enjoyed signing autographs and connecting with his fans.

When the crowd cleared, he apologized for the interruption. “I’m sorry for making you wait. I know how busy you are getting things together for reunion weekend.”

“It’s no problem. You’re one of the most recognizable athletes in the world, and that’s why the board of directors wanted you here at Hollington. To bring excitement and enthusiasm to the college.”

“Coaching at my alma mater would be a dream come true and I’m really grateful for this opportunity. Hopefully, this will be the start of a long, successful partnership.”

Kyra avoided his gaze. Truth was, she found it hard to believe anything that came out of Terrence’s mouth. After all, he’d lied when he said he loved her and made her the butt of their friends’ jokes when he dumped her.

They continued down the hall towards the reception area. “How’s your family doing? Is everyone all right?”

“Uh-huh.” His crippling smile and fragrant cologne made her thoughts turn to mush. An aromatic aphrodisiac, his scent aroused her senses and elicited an unexpected physical response. Her voice caught in her throat, and her skin prickled with desire. Over the years, Kyra had dated scores of cool, dreamy types, but no one aroused her like Terrence did.

“I hear your dad’s church is one of the fastest-growing in the South.”

Mindful of him watching her, she produced a smile. Her father’s ministry didn’t impress her and although he’d been heralded as a dynamic bishop, Kyra rarely attended services. Work kept her busy and she’d much rather organize her filing cabinet than listen to one of his fire-and-brimstone messages. “Yes, he’s got quite the following.”

“I’d love to see them again. Maybe one of these Sundays I’ll visit their church.”

Nodding, she allowed herself a fleeting look in his direction. Terrence had a voice made for radio and a body for the big screen, and suddenly articulating her thoughts was harder than riding a unicycle backwards. All smiles and good looks, he stared at her with such genuine interest that her thoughts scrambled like marbles on concrete. “Mom and Dad are still going strong. In fact, they were recently invited to the Mayor’s Luncheon and honored with a humanitarian service award for their dedication to the community.”

Terrence extended his congratulations and when she nodded in response, he asked if she was looking forward to the reunion. “Kevin Stayton and I have kept in touch, but I’m anxious to see the rest of the crew.”

“Me, too. Tamara and I have years and years of catching up to do.”

“What about us?”

“What about us?” she repeated.

Stopping abruptly in the middle of the hallway, his eyes burning into her very soul, he put a hand to her shoulder. “Kyra, we haven’t seen each other in ten years. Don’t you think we should talk?” His smooth, mellow voice deepened. “I went off to play in the NFL, but I never stopped thinking about you. You were always in my thoughts.”

Kyra gulped. Her throat was tight and she feared what might come out. Squeaking wasn’t cool. No matter what Terrence said or did, she had to keep her head. In college, he’d been a charmer, and there was no doubt in her mind that he’d perfected his skills over the years. Ten minutes earlier, he’d been offering compliments and making such intense eye contact she’d fumbled through her speech. All of her rehearsals in the bathroom mirror had been in vain because the moment Terrence smiled at her, she lost the use of her tongue.

“Can you believe it’s been ten years since we graduated? It seems like just yesterday we were going steady and stealing kisses in our American history class.”

Heart accelerating, mouth dry, she discreetly dried her palms on the side of her skirt. After a long, meaningful silence, her mind cleared and her voice returned. “Enjoy the rest of your day, Terrence. I’ll be in touch.”

“When?”

The question hung in the air for several seconds. Kyra felt like there were pop rockets in her stomach. The office was crawling with students, faculty members and visitors, and the telephone buzzed every five seconds, but none of it seemed real. And why should it? Terrence Franklin, the man she’d planned to marry, the man she’d lost her virginity to, was staring at her with those deep, penetrating eyes.

“I’ll give you a call once I free up some time in my schedule.” Another lie. Hiring a coach for the Hollington Lions was priority number one. He knew it, she knew it and so did her boss, so who did she think she was kidding?

“How long have you been married?”

Kyra frowned. “What makes you think I’m married?”

He indicated to her left hand. “You’re wearing a wedding ring.”

What? Only married women like diamonds? Kyra didn’t owe Terrence an explanation. They weren’t friends, they weren’t lovers. Hell, they were barely acquaintances. Besides, what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Or rather, hurt her. Her confidence returned, and a smile touched her lips. Yes, this arrangement would work out nicely. She’d pretend to be married and Terrence would never be the wiser. And her parents said it didn’t pay to lie. Who knew?

“Could we get together tonight to discuss…”

Kyra started to speak, but trailed off when she felt a hand wind around her waist. She turned to her left, and a smile came. A huge, toothy grin that could eclipse the morning sun. Charles had chosen the best possible time to make an appearance, and Kyra suddenly felt like hugging him. But they’d only been dating for a few weeks and she didn’t want to give him the wrong impression, even if it would knock Terrence down a few pegs. “Charles! Oh my God, what are you doing here?”

“Surprising you,” he announced. “Don’t tell me you’re busy making arrangements for homecoming, because I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all week. I’m taking you out to lunch, and I won’t take no for an answer.”

“Of course, Charles. You know how much I like spending time with you. I’ve…”

Terrence coughed loudly, breaking her concentration. Annoyed, she glanced over at him. His jaw was clenched so tight, the muscles in his neck were throbbing. Thank you, Charles! she thought, grinning with satisfaction at Terrence’s displeasure. She could be wrong, but he looked jealous. Though she’d graduated at the top of her class and bought her first home last year, nothing was more satisfying than seeing her ex green with envy.

“Hey man, what’s up? I’m Terrence.”

“Charles Roberts.” His ocean-blue eyes were hard stones, and his forehead was creased. “Are you also in PR?”

“No, I play…I mean, I played professional ball.”

Charles snuck a glance at Kyra for confirmation, and she nodded. “Terrence played for the Dallas Cowboys,” she explained, mustering the appropriate amount of excitement. “He was also voted offensive player of the year three times during his career.”

“You forgot eight-time pro Bowler,” Terrence added with a sly wink. “And tell him about those soup commercials. Big Mama loves those!”

Kyra laughed. She couldn’t help it. The commercials were a riot. Only Terrence could make figure skating look cool and she’d read recently that the company had seen a twenty percent increase in sales since the spots started running.

“Kyra, go grab your things,” Charles ordered, pulling back the sleeve of his suit jacket and consulting his diamond encrusted watch. “Our reservations are for twelve-thirty and if we’re late they might give away our table.”

Turning on her heels, she shot into her office, grabbed her purse off her desk and returned to the reception area in ten seconds flat. Couldn’t risk Terrence pumping Charles for personal information, now could she? “I’m ready,” she sang. “Let’s go. I’m starving.”

But Charles didn’t move. “You’ve been keeping secrets from me.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “I knew you were recruiting a new coach for the Lions, but you never mentioned Terrence Franklin was your old college sweetheart.”

Kyra stopped breathing. For a moment, she stood there, frozen, her gaze bouncing between the two men. “We were kids. It meant nothing. It was over ten years ago,” she offered, by way of explanation. Her words came out in a clump, and she heard the quiver in her voice. Wonderful, she sounded like Miss Piggy on speed.

“It sure sounds serious,” Charles countered. “Is it true you were engaged?”

Kyra cranked her head to the right. Terrence looked as innocent as Jack the Ripper. “Yes, but it was a long time ago. So long in fact, I hardly remember.”

“Kyra’s being shy. We had some really great times back then,” Terrence mused, as if overtaken by nostalgia. “Cruising around in my Jeep, kicking it in the quad, eating at that crummy waffle house on Ninth.”

Kyra felt hotter than a furnace. Why was he doing this? Was he trying to get a rise out of her? When Terrence reached out and patted her arm, her veneer cracked. Two could play that game, she decided, gritting her teeth. Facing Terrence, she met the challenge in his eyes, and smiled with a sick, saccharine sweetness. “I’m surprised you even remember any of that. I mean, with all your groupies and whatnot.”

Returning her gaze to Charles, but watching Terrence out of her peripheral vision, she said, “He left for training camp and I never heard from him again. Well, unless you count that e-mail he sent dumping me.”

The light in Terrence’s eyes went out, and his mouth went slack.

Kyra nodded to herself. Mission accomplished. From now on, Terrence would think twice before embarrassing her. “Honey, let’s go,” Kyra purred, tugging on Charles’s arm. She’d never used the pet name before, but now was as good time as any. “I’ve missed you, baby, and we have so much to talk about.”

Charles frowned at her but said nothing. She was smiling so hard, her teeth ached, but when Terrence averted his gaze, satisfaction flowed through her. It appeared he couldn’t stand to see her with someone else. How did he think she felt every time she flipped on the TV and saw him at a Hollywood premiere with a gorgeous blonde draped in diamonds and Versace?

“Kyra, I’ll wait to hear from you,” he said.

She thought she heard a note of sadness in his tone, but Kyra refused to feel guilty for living her life. Terrence was her past and as long as she kept telling herself that, she’d be fine. Remembering her earlier conversation with her boss, she inflected her voice with cheer. “It was good seeing you again, Terrence. Welcome back to Hollington.”

“Thanks for taking time out of your very busy schedule to meet with me.”

“Take care.”

The elevator pinged and Charles stepped inside.

Then, in a twist of bad luck, everyone inside got off on their floor, leaving the elevator empty. Faced with no alternatives, Kyra got on and strangled a groan when Terrence followed. Staring intently at the control panel, she wondered how long the awkward silence would last. Is it just me or is this elevator moving slower than normal? she thought, praying the stupid thing wouldn’t stall. Stranger things had happened, and last night there had been a full moon.

“Terrence, how long are you in town for?” Charles asked, glancing up from his BlackBerry handheld device. “You’re not hanging around until homecoming weekend, are you?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“You have a place here in Atlanta?”

“I have a five-bedroom spread in Savannah,” he bragged, “but the school put me up in a place a few blocks from here.”

While Charles and Terrence discussed the sinking real estate market, Kyra noted each man’s physical attributes. Though Terrence was several inches taller, Charles had meatier arms and outweighed him by at least twenty pounds. Olive-toned, with a sprinkling of gray throughout his short, brown hair, Charles Roberts was on the fast track to being CEO of the largest insurance company in the nation.

Kyra’s eyes slid down the hard lines of Terrence’s chest. The NFL player might have been every woman’s dream, but he was her worst nightmare. For starters, he was broad, lean and had more muscles than a professional body builder. He possessed everything she liked in a man and more. Sexy shaved hair, deep brown eyes, ripped arms. And then there was his voice. There was a very sensual feel to it. It was commanding, but soothing and evoked feelings of calm. Charles spoke in a polished, refined way and though Terrence had graduated with a double major in English and education, his speech was cooler, laid-back, street.

“We should all hang out some time,” Terrence suggested, as the elevator came to a grinding halt. “Kevin owns a nightclub in the city called Bollito. Ever heard of it?”

Charles started to speak, but Kyra grabbed his arm and with a burst of superhuman strength, practically dragged him out of the elevator. Going clubbing with Terrence was out of the question. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever. He’d made his choice ten years ago, and Kyra didn’t believe in second chances, especially not for someone like him.

“Is everything all right?”

Kyra snapped out of her daydream. Instead of enjoying a quiet lunch at one of her favorite restaurants, she was replaying her conversation with Terrence in her mind. Thanks to its celebrity investors, big shots such as Russell Simmons and Justin Timberlake, Azure Lounge & Bar attracted a steady stream of powerful executives and rising stars. “I’m sorry. I haven’t been very good company, have I?”

“No, but I forgive you,” Charles said.

Kyra couldn’t tell if he was joking, and didn’t have the energy to ask. Troubled about her meeting with Terrence, and hungrier than a hiker lost in the woods, she reached for another garlic bun from the oversized glass bowl.

“Why don’t you let me order you another appetizer?”

“Because I’ve already eaten a huge plate of peppercorn ribs!” She sliced the bun in half, decided against adding butter and took a bite. “I’d like to lose a few pounds before homecoming, and it’s already September 5. If I keep eating everything in sight, I’ll never fit into the gown I bought.”

“You’re beautiful no matter what size you are.”

Kyra’s mind drifted off. Terrence had once whispered those very words to her, and after one drink too many at a raucous house party, they’d returned to his apartment to “talk.” She remembered that night in remarkable detail. The potency of his cologne. The feel of his lips on her ear, his hands on her breasts and the rush of pleasure to her core when he plunged deep inside her slick walls.

“You feel the same way, Kyra, don’t you?”

Embarrassed that she’d been swept away by her thoughts, she smoothed a hand over her flushed cheeks. Not wanting Charles to know she’d been fantasizing about another man, she nodded in response to his question and choked down so much water, she felt the button on her skirt pop off.

“I want us to be exclusive,” Charles confessed, his awestruck tone teetering on desperation. Eyes glittering like diamonds, he took her hand and caressed her palm. “I think we’re good together, don’t you?”

Her shoulders tensed. It was too soon in their relationship to make grandiose declarations. Charles traveled a lot for his company, and Kyra was lucky if they saw each other once a week. Furthermore, she considered him more of a friend than a potential lover. “I’m really glad we exchanged numbers,” she said, unsure of what else to say. “It’s nice having someone to hang out with on the—”

“Hold that thought.” He swiped his cell off the table, pressed it to his ear and chirped, “Charles Roberts. Talk to me.”

Kyra stared at him, hoping her furrowed brows conveyed her disapproval. Talking on his cell phone at the table was her biggest pet peeve and they’d discussed it at length last week. Now he was back at it.

“Here we go,” the waiter announced, pulling up beside the table and setting down two enormous plates. After refilling her glass, he left.

“I’m sorry about that,” Charles said when he finally ended his call, “but I’m in the middle of a monster business deal.”

Not wanting to ruin their lunch, she accepted his apology. “It’s all right. I understand. Everyone gets a bit crazy when—”

His utensils fell on his plate with a clank, startling her.

“My food is cold.” Charles spit into his napkin. Rising from his chair, his gaze darted maniacally around the room. “Where is that stupid waiter?”

Having worked as a waitress to put herself through school, Kyra had zero tolerance for rudeness and told him so. “Charles,” she began, refusing to be embarrassed in front of the other well-dressed patrons, “your food is cold because you were on your cell phone for ten minutes. What did you expect the server to do?”

The waiter returned. “How is everything tasting?”

“I’d like another steak.” Charles pushed his plate forward. “This one’s cold.”

With a curt nod, the young man was off and running back into the kitchen.

“Charles, that was unnecessary—”

“It’s my accountant.” Phone pressed to his ear, he stood and stalked through the dining room. Kyra watched him walk away. Charles was acting like a petulant child, and she wasn’t going to let him get away with humiliating her. He had to learn to treat her—and everyone around him—with more respect. His behavior was something she’d expect from an actor. Or a rapper. Or a buff, wickedly handsome NFL running back.

Sighing, she glanced out the window, unwanted memories rolling through her mind. Ten years ago, she’d met Terrence on the Hollington College campus, and as she thought about that first meeting, a smile filled her lips. Rushing toward the fine arts building, she’d rolled her ankle and narrowly missed wiping out in front of Terrence. Kyra had seen the star running back around campus, but they’d never talked before. So when he ditched his friends and commanded her to hop on his back, she’d been stunned.

Five minutes later, she was climbing aboard the T-train, as he’d teasingly called it. Arms swathed around his neck, legs wrapped at his waist, he’d carried her to the north building and returned at the end of her African dance class with a pair of pink jelly shoes. To show her appreciation, she’d treated the handsome footballer to lunch.

Terrence was the big man on campus and she was a bookworm, but they’d hit it off immediately. Then one night after they’d had too much to drink they’d ended up back in his dorm room. One thing led to another and the next thing Kyra knew, she was down to her panties, pulsing with a tangible mix of desire, passion and lust. Terrence was her first, and though they’d stumbled in the dark, knocking things over and laughing hysterically at their inanity, she’d counted it as one of the happiest moments of her life.

Within weeks, they were inseparable. They ran with the same crowd, had the same friends and made plans to get married after the NFL draft. “Once things settle down and I finish training camp,” he’d promised. Things never did settle down and that magical day she’d always dreamed of never happened. Pressured by his manager to maintain his cool, single guy image, Terrence had broken off their engagement via e-mail, never to be heard from again. Until now.

Why, after all these years, was she rehashing the past? Seeing Terrence again had stirred something in her. Something that had died the day she’d read that e-mail message. Over the years, Kyra had dated some great guys. Powerful, accomplished men who knew how to treat a woman right. But Terrence stood out in her mind for several reasons. Though he’d been a struggling college student, with a rusted white hooptie and staggering debt, he’d spoiled her silly. He brought her breakfast in bed, walked her to and from class and made love to her with unspeakable warmth and tenderness. Humility had never been his strong suit, but he was chivalrous and respectful of her feelings.

“Ms., I brought a new steak entrée.”

Kyra came to. Oh brother. Not this again. Squinting, as if blinded by the angry glare of headlights, she searched the waiting area for Charles. Where was he? Deciding she’d had enough of Charles and his rudeness for one day, she opened her purse, tipped the waiter and rose from her seat. “Thanks, Miguel. Everything was great.”

He looked confused. “You’re leaving? What should I tell the gentleman when he comes back?”

“I don’t know,” she sassed, winking mischievously. “Be creative!”