Frenemy Fix-Up, page 7
The tips of my breasts pucker from the contact with his hard chest and the unmistakable bulge against my pelvis. His kisses are so deep and hot, sparks sizzle inside me like a firecracker about to explode. He is a skillful kisser. He blots out the entire world, and I don’t care.
Colin devours me, and I welcome his aggressive ardor. It’s been too long since I’ve felt like this. Needed. Wanted. Desired. I love the taste of him. It’s minty, spicy—much like the man himself. Our tongues slide and mate as if we could go on and on...
But a loud cough sounds from behind us.
“Ahem!” It’s Maribeth, one of my instructors. “I’m sorry to interrupt. I came in early before class, but if now isn’t a good time...” A blush rises on her pink cheeks.
Colin moves away from me as if burned, as if he hadn’t thrust his tongue in my mouth. I’m disappointed, and I can’t say whether it’s because the kiss ended or he pulled away or I followed my urges in the first place.
“No, you didn’t interrupt,” I respond, lowering my head because I’m thoroughly embarrassed at being caught making out with Colin. “We were just finishing up, weren’t we?” I pray he agrees. We both need a moment to cool off.
“Yeah,” he nods. “We’re done.” He bends down to pick up his bottle of water. He screws off the top and drains it as if quenching an unquenchable thirst. Did I make him that way? He turns to me. “Walk me out?”
Maribeth smiles knowingly, and I follow Colin as he heads toward the door and picks up his sneakers. When we reach the exit, he says. “About that...”
I shake my head and shrug. “It was nothing.”
He shakes his head. “That wasn’t nothing. It—it was unexpected.”
Hell yes, it was. But I can’t mess this up. Colin wants to pay me a generous sum that will help my business. I remind myself—again—that B&E comes first. “Yes, it was, but it can’t happen again.”
“Agreed.” He nods, and I wonder if he’s feeling regret. “I need your help, and I wouldn’t want anything to complicate that.”
“I understand.” And I do. The kiss was a mistake, but damn if it didn’t feel good in the moment.
“Is two o’clock a good time for our sessions?”
“Yes, that’s fine.” There would be less chance of being interrupted. Is that why I’m allowing an early time? Because deep down I want to see what might happen next? “But first, I’d like to take a few days and come up with a fitness plan. Let’s officially start next Monday with sessions every other day.” It’s a cop-out, but I need time to evaluate how best to proceed.
“Should we exchange numbers in case you change your mind?” he asks.
“I won’t.”
“Just in case.”
Why is he so persistent about my number? I walk over to the counter and grab a business card from the holder. “My number’s on there. You can reach me any time.”
“Day or night?” he asks, with a smirk. “You are supposed to be at my beck and call.”
I can’t resist laughing out loud. “You’re incorrigible, Colin.”
“All right, I’ll see you then.” And within seconds, he’s gone, and I exhale. My mind rewinds to that incendiary kiss. Had it continued, it probably would have destroyed me in the best possible way.
“Who was that hunk?” Maribeth asks from behind me.
I spin around to face her. “That was trouble.”
Eight
COLIN
What the hell just happened in there? I scrub my hand over my face, annoyed at the slight tremor of my hand.
How did I end up kissing Shay?
Sitting in my car, I breathe in and out and try to gain my composure. It was a moment of madness that quickly turned into something more. We crossed the boundaries of instructor and client when my hands wrapped in those thick locs and I tugged Shay’s head back to press my mouth to hers. Her lips were as warm and soft as I’d imagined them, and she smelled fantastic. A mix of her own unique scent and citrus.
A hunger I hadn’t known existed made me draw Shay closer, boiling in this attraction that has simmered between us since the moment we reconnected. The kiss was passionate and all-consuming. It made me lose all shred of sanity.
I don’t want to want Shay, but I do.
My instincts tell me to run from how she makes me feel. I don’t want to think about how her lips were swollen from my kisses. Or the moans she made when I thrust my tongue deep inside the sweet haven of her mouth.
Drawing in another breath, I remind myself that Claire is the perfect woman, the one who will know how to behave in every circumstance. A woman who will complement my climb up the social ladder. Claire is the wife type, as my father always said. He liked Claire back then. They had fun; she fit in. And she’s even more polished now.
As for Shay, her less-than-stellar background and new-age lifestyle doesn’t fit the corporate image I want to portray. But more importantly, she’s dangerous. When I’m with her, I lose control—like I did today. All I could think about was having Shay’s soft, delectable lips on mine.
I shake my head.
This can’t happen again. It won’t.
Somehow, I must keep Shay in a separate box labeled Do Not Open so I can get what I came for—a healthy outcome so I can return to work and get the girl. Now that Claire and I have reconnected, it’s only a matter of time before we end up together. If I believe in something and work toward the goal, sooner or later it will manifest.
As for the money, I hadn’t intended to offer so much. But fifty thousand is nothing when it comes to ensuring a long life. Shay’s hesitancy, however, made me realize the amount had to be something substantial, an amount to get her to say yes, because she isn’t my biggest fan. At least, she wasn’t. Now I know she has a soft spot for me.
When she mentioned wanting to expand her business, I saw an opportunity for us to both get what we want. Why go to a gym and do things that may not benefit me in the long run? A trainer like Shay can teach me what to do and how to eat so I won’t end up in this position again. Shay was just in the right place at the right time. With her help, I’ll get in shape, reach my dreams of becoming a high-level executive at the Myers Group, get the girl I was always meant to be with and make my father proud.
Just no more kissing.
* * *
After running a few errands, I stop at my family home. It’s time I fill Mom in on what’s happened.
My confession will cause drama. My mother is high-strung, and hearing that her eldest had a near-miss heart attack won’t sit well with her. She’ll worry I’m following in Dad’s footsteps, but I’m not. Yes, I made a misstep by not watching my health, but I will turn it around. I will become the leader I’m meant to be.
Turning off the ignition, I walk up the drive to the two-story Mediterranean-style home and use my key. “Mom, are you home?”
“Hey, honey.” My mother, a beautiful brown-skinned woman, comes toward me wearing dark slacks and a tunic. Her hair is a chic pixie cut, and her makeup looks flawless. She must have just gotten home from work. She’s a schoolteacher for the fifth grade. “Colin, what a surprise. Shouldn’t you be at work?” She gives me a quick hug and looks at me expectantly.
“About that, Ma,” I reply. “Let’s go into the living room.”
Her eyes grow wide with fear. “Why? Is everything all right?”
I give her a winning smile. “Humor me.”
“Okay.” She leads me into an expansive gathering room decorated in blues and grays, which overlooks a designer gourmet kitchen with all the bells and whistles. Quartz countertops. Shaker cabinets. A subzero fridge. A six-burner stove. We sit on the couch, and I grab both her hands.
Since Dad passed, I’ve noticed how fragile Mom is. Dad was such a strong personality, a force of nature, that sometimes Mom was relegated to the background. She was used to Dad handling the bills and any repairs. As her son and the eldest, I’ve taken on that more traditional role as the man of the house.
“I don’t want you to freak out, Mom, but I was in the hospital a couple of days ago.”
Her face contorts with shock. “You were? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I didn’t want you to worry if it was nothing.”
“Colin, any time you’re in the hospital, I want to know about it.” There’s genuine hurt in her tone. “How could you keep something like this from me?”
“You’re right. Afterward, I realized I should have contacted you because it could have been serious.”
“But it wasn’t?” she asks, picking up on what I’m not saying.
“I wouldn’t say that. It was a health scare that’s shown me I’ve put in too many hours at work, that stress isn’t good for me. Add lack of exercise and no proper diet—it was a recipe for disaster.”
“Oh my God, Colin. Are you okay?” She grasps both sides of my face and looks me over as if she’s checking for injuries.
“I’m fine, Mom,” I say, removing her hands. I’m not a three-year-old boy with a boo-boo who needs his mother to kiss it and make it better.
My mom wrings her hands. “It’s not okay. You could have died, and I wouldn’t have known.”
“Died?” Suddenly, Thea is standing in the doorway, a stunned expression on her features, holding Kira. “What’s going on, Colin?”
I inhale deeply because I’ll have to explain the entire thing over again. Except this time, Thea will want details. She’s not going to accept a pat answer. Revealing the chest pain and angina is met with horror, so I don’t tell them about being taken away by ambulance.
“This is serious Colin,” Thea replies. “You didn’t think you could tell us?”
“It’s not that. I didn’t know what was happening myself. I’m young and healthy, or so I thought. I had no idea of the gravity of the situation. But it’s all under control. I’ve gone to see my primary physician and I’m taking medication for my high blood pressure and cholesterol. I even hired a personal trainer and nutritionist to make sure I’m on the straight and narrow.”
“And work?” Thea presses. She knows how ambitious I am.
“I’m taking a medical leave of absence.”
“Medical leave?” My mother clutches her chest. “Your condition must be more serious than you’re telling us.”
“No!” I shake my head furiously. “A medical leave is the best thing for me, Ma,” I respond, not wanting to go into the fact that it wasn’t my choice to take one. “It will give me time to figure out how to deal with life’s stresses.”
“I’m worried, Colin.” Fear is etched across my mama’s face.
“It was a scare, but I’m okay. I’m taking the steps I need to get better.”
My mother sighs. “That’s good. It’s just...the thought of anything to happening to you... You and Thea are my world.”
“I’m sorry I gave you a fright, but I’ve got this. Let’s not harp on it, okay? I’ll keep you both updated on my progress.”
“All right, but what does this mean for your future with the company?” my mother asks. “Your father and I have always seen you achieving great things.”
I nod. My parents, Mom included, always pushed me to excel. “When I return, I’ll be headed for a promotion. Nothing will change. I promise.”
Mom sighs. “If you say so. What else is going on in your life?”
“You remember that girl I was seeing during my senior year and into college?”
“Her name was Claire, right?” my mom asks. “I always liked her. She was so poised and put-together. And her family was equally as nice.”
“I’m glad because I’m hoping to reconnect with her.”
“And pick up where they left off,” Thea adds with a smile, bouncing Kira on her knee.
“Claire is someone you want?” my mother wisely inquires.
He wasn’t sure how to answer that question except to point out, “She was the one who got away. Dad always thought so. He saw Claire as wife material.”
“We don’t always get second chances, son,” my mother replies. “I hope things are better the second time around.”
“I hope so too.”
After I leave my family, I think about a future with Claire. Like achieving any goal, there will be work involved. Get healthy and fit. Remove stress from my life. Learn to balance my responsibilities so I can have a personal life.
And yet I can’t stop thinking about Shay—her soft, succulent lips, her locs down to her firm ass, the way I want to clutch her with both hands as I ram inside her.
I’m horny. That’s all. It’s been too long since I’ve taken care of my sexual needs because I was so focused on the IPO. All I need is a good fuck. It’ll help ease the tension.
So why is the person I want to help me with my particular affliction the one woman I shouldn’t want?
Nine
SHAY
“Do you think she’s going to like it?”
Lyric and I fuss over last-minute arrangements for Wynter’s bridal shower on Saturday.
When I originally found out Wynter and Riley were messing around, I was none too pleased. Actually, that’s the understatement of the year: I was downright pissed because I didn’t think my brother was ready for love, and Wynter deserves the best. But, lo and behold, he proved me wrong. He proposed, and their wedding is fast approaching.
Neither Lyric nor I had time to put the shower together, not with my busy yoga schedule and Lyric working as a dance teacher in Memphis while simultaneously getting her studio off the ground. We combined resources and drummed up enough moola to afford a party planner.
“She’ll love it because we put it together,” Lyric responds. She looks beautiful with her auburn hair in an elaborate updo, wearing the perfect slip dress for her slender figure. Although she isn’t a professional ballerina anymore, Lyric’s natural grace is evident.
“Thanks, girlfriend.” She’s right. I’m putting too much pressure on us. Egypt and Teagan threw an amazing bachelorette party in Vegas, and I wanted to do something equally as elaborate. That’s hard to do with champagne tastes and a beer budget. Yet somehow, Lyric and I managed this shindig at a beautiful teahouse in San Antonio with an outdoor terrace seating forty people.
Wynter gave us her guest list, which included the Six Gems, her mother and sister-in-law, Francesca, my mother, Eliza, and a few of her colleagues at the online travel magazine she started over a year ago.
Our theme for the shower is Bubbles and Besties. The party planner has the entire outdoor space decked out in rose gold. There’s even a pink-and rose-gold-balloon backdrop where Wynter can take pictures with the shower guests.
A champagne table sits front and center with fruits and juices to make mimosas. The dessert table has a rose-gold-and-white cake, éclairs, cake pops and macarons, along with small champagne bottles of Moët & Chandon as party favors.
“How’s the yoga studio?” Lyric asks as we step back and survey the teahouse.
Everything looks absolutely divine.
The table decor is set up with seasonal blooms that catch the eye. The buffet has the menu we selected: a charcuterie-board wall with each cone filled with local cheese, cured meats, olives and fresh fruits. Then there’s caprese salad skewers, mac and cheese bites, mini quiches, lobster rolls, mini cucumber sandwiches and a variety of pasta salads.
“The studio is great,” I reply. “Membership is steady, and after a year I’m finally seeing a small profit. I’ve even hired two-part time instructors.”
“That’s fabulous, but do you rest? Ever? Since I’ve known you, you’re always on the go. First with your mom, then school and Kevin, and now the studio.”
“Is there any other way to be? Besides, it keeps me occupied and not thinking about what I don’t have.”
“It isn’t easy seeing everyone so happy, is it?” Lyric asks. “Even Asia snagged a fella, and she wasn’t even trying.”
I nod. “I want the very best for them, and I’m glad they’ve found love, but it gets lonely at times. That’s why I work so much—a cure for loneliness.”
“I get it. Don’t you think I’m envious too? I want to find my person, but...maybe it just isn’t our time.”
“I know what time it is.” A soprano voice trills from behind us. “It’s Gem time!” We turn to see the loudmouth, and I’m not surprised it’s Egypt. She’s a take-me-as-I-am kind of woman, and that’s never gonna change. She sashays onto the terrace like she owns the place in a black one-piece jumpsuit with a large gold chain belt, rocking some killer high-heeled sandals. I love how Egypt is unashamedly proud of her full figure. The jumpsuit shows off her voluptuous curves.
“Diva!” I yell, and we rush into each other’s embrace.
When we finally pull apart, Egypt says, “Girl, what I wouldn’t kill for your svelte figure. You are rocking that dress.”
“Oh, this old thing.” Egypt eyes me in my one-shoulder ruched blush bodycon dress. She has no idea I left the studio last night in a mad dash to find something suitable to wear. Sports bras, tank tops and yoga pants are my modus operandi. I rarely have an opportunity to get dressed up.
“You look good. As do you, Miss Lyric,” Egypt gushes and gives Lyric an affectionate hug. “I’ve missed you girls.”
“Can anyone else get in on the action?” I turn and see Teagan in her familiar short pixie-cut hairdo, her brown skin and makeup flawless as always. Surprisingly, though, she’s not in a suit. The woman lives in them, but today she has on an elegant tangerine sheath.
