Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
“Alright,” I tell her. “We’ll see you there.”
She starts off toward the main entrance, leaving me alone with Kyle and Touré.
“I actually see one of Beverly’s girls from back in the day,” Kyles says, pointing up toward a cluster of alums sporting Finley gear. “She wanted me to make sure I said hi. I’ll be back.”
Kyle leaves without further explanation or excuse.
“That was subtle.” Touré shoots me a sideways glance. “I promise I didn’t arrange that with him, but I’m not sorry that we get a few minutes alone.”
I gulp and sit down abruptly on the bleacher. I’m forty-one. Grown ass. I should not be this nervous. This fluttery. This twitchy just because a man I’m attracted to is signaling it’s mutual, but this is Touré. That guy. The one who was always a question. The possibility of an answer has me on edge. Touré sits beside me on the bleacher, his clean scent with woodsy notes invading my senses. It’s a full house, and we are canned like sardines in here. It forces him close and the muscular length of his leg presses against mine. The strength of his arm touches mine.
“Hey.” Touré rests one hand on my knee and waits for me to look at him. The heat I’ve felt all day with him is still there, but so is genuine concern. “I hope I didn’t make you feel weird today during the interview talking about the kiss.”
“You didn’t. I mean, it’s okay. I was surprised, but not . . .unpleased.”
“Not unpleased, huh?”
“Was it true?” I push out my hesitation on a slow breath and force myself to go on. “What you said about having a crush on me all that time because—”
“It was true.”
His words, though quiet, though nearly swallowed by the noise of the crowd, temporarily knock the wind from me. It was so long ago, and we are different people who have lived full lives apart. It shouldn’t impact me this deeply; knowing his feelings matched mine back then, but it does. Sometimes the things that could have happened affect us almost as much as the things that did.
“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” I ask once I find my voice again.
“Remember we were barely out of orientation when you started dating that sophomore and you were with him our entire freshman year.”
“Oh, my god. He slept with that cheerleader and everyone knew.” I bury my face in my hands. “I almost forgot about Tyrone.”
“You should have known by the name,” he teases. “Erykah tried to warn you.”
I give his shoulder a playful punch. “Gimme a break! I was a freshman and this upper classman from the football team liked me. I couldn’t believe it.”
“You were the finest girl in our class. Of course he did.”
My breath catches and then releases in a tiny whoosh at the compliment. “You thought that? About me?”
“Yeah, but Tyrone got in before any of us could.”
“You could have.”
My soft words fall between us, light as a feather, but landing with a thud. Our gazes hold, neither of us looking away as the import of what I said sinks in.
“I guess I was a lot less confident then because I assumed . . .” He shrugs. “You shot down every guy from our class who tried.”
“But you never tried.”
“I thought I would show you in more subtle ways.” His smile is self-deprecating. “Obviously I was a little too subtle.”
“I remember you ordering my favorite pizza and having it delivered to the dorm when news about Tyrone got out. It was during finals.”
“Ham and pineapple with extra cheese. That’s what always got you through exams.”
“It caught up with me. I’m lactose intolerant now and I don’t eat pork.”
“I’ll have to find some other way to impress you then.” Our gazes tangle and the air crackles, not just with the energy of everyone waiting for the step show to start, but with a snap and crackle that is only ours. Something poised between us and waiting to happen.
“We were good friends by then and had several classes together,” I say. “Why didn’t you approach me after Tyrone showed his whole ass?”
“I was dating Melissa Monroe.”
“Ohhhh. That’s right. She was a sweetheart. Why’d you two break up?”
“I wasn’t all the way in. I never cheated on her, but there was always somebody else at the back of my mind. I think she knew that.”
I drop my eyes to his hand still resting on my knee. He glances around the crowded gym, grimacing. “Hey, we need to talk. Can we get out of—”
“Niomi,” my camera guy Joe shouts over the noise up from his spot on the floor. “Step show’s starting. Tell me again what you wanna get?”
I briefly cover Touré’s hand on my knee before standing and looking down at him apologetically. “I need to make sure we get this footage for next week’s segment. I’ll be right back.”