“Yeah, she graduated with a degree in business from the University of North Carolina a few months ago. She grew up watching and learning from me, so when she told me she was thinking about applying, I was excited to know she’d be finally coming back home to Miami.”
We hadn’t gotten too personal about our jobs, me wanting to take advantage of the opportunity of spending time with someone who seemingly was unaware of who I was, and if I had to guess, she was likely thinking the same thing.
Although, I can’t help but wonder if she had to know? If she grew up around her dad, watching him coach, surely she’d know who I am, right?
My mind is a jumbled mess after this bombshell. I can hardly focus on the words he’s saying, jumping from one thought to another, searching for any clues or indication she knew who I was, but I come up empty.
Looking at Coach Carr, I would never guess he’s her father. Where she’s fair-skinned, green eyes, rosy cheeks, and red wavy hair, he’s olive-skinned, with dark-brown hair, and dark eyes. We’d have a better chance of him passing as my father than hers.
“Did you know we were living in the same building?”
“I’m not surprised. We work with a few companies in town that are sponsors of the Blaze organization. We often recommend them as a housing option to any new players coming to town, and many of the arena staff get discounts on their rentals through them.”
I know the security is always looking out for us, but I still wish I’d known this before moving in. I like to fly under the radar, keeping my life low-key and private, so knowing I’m staying in the same building as other players, some who may not have the same desires to stay quiet, has me starting to rethink things.
Although, it would mean I’d have to consider moving away from Sydney and getting rid of my view, both of which are things I’m not quite sure I’m ready to let go of at the moment.
Despite how messy this situation could be for us, I’m also not sure I’m ready to give up what we shared last night. This is all so new, but I’d love to have more nights like last night, if she’s up for it.
“Since I know you’ll be close by, I appreciate you looking out for her. As I said, she’s a strong and independent woman, but knowing you’re not too far away makes her ol’ man feel better about things.”
“Yeah, of course. I’ve already told Sydney to let me know if she needs anything.”
The offer may have eluded to being there for her sexual needs, but I certainly meant them in other ways, too, and would of course, help her if another situation like yesterday presented itself.
“Thanks, Rush. I appreciate it.” He stands, reaching his hand out between us to shake mine.
“I guess we should get out there and start practicing. We’re not gonna win any basketball games sitting in here talking.”
“That’s right and, Coach, that’s exactly why I wanted to come here. To win games with you and get us to the championship.”
“That’s what I like to hear!”
Chapter Four
Sydney
I’m starting to feel somewhat self-conscious over the fact I’m standing outside his door again for the second time in twenty-four hours. Staring at the peephole on the dark wood door, I let out a heavy breath to shake out the nerves pumping through me. I knock on the door before I give myself a chance to chicken out.
“Just do it, Syd.” I close my eyes, shaking out the nervous energy.
Swinging the door open, I come face-to-face with his smooth-as-caramel eyes, and I can’t hide my grin when I see his bright smile.
“Back so soon? You must’ve enjoyed yourself last night.” He winks. His devilish smirk highlights his dimples, making my knees weak as I recall the feel of his lips tracing the column of my neck.
“It was all right.”
I bite down on my lower lip, trying to hold back my urge to laugh. He narrows his eyes at me, reaching for my hand, pulling me inside. The door slams shut behind me as he pushes me up against it.
“All right? Just all right?”
“Yeah. I mean, it was okay.”
It takes everything in me to keep a stoic face. His eyes burn into me, giving me a second or two to confess I’m kidding, but when the confession doesn’t come, a look of determination overcomes him. He shakes his head from side to side like he’s gearing up for the challenge.
“Do you need me to give you a reminder of how all right last night was? I happen to remember quite vividly the way you sighed when I’d touched you and how you moaned my name.”
The mere mention of me damn near panting his name, begging him to touch me, rings clear in my memory. He must sense the change in my demeanor, leaning in closer, his breath sending a chill through me.
“I believe you had a few different names for me, actually. What was it you said? Oh, Colson. Oh, God, Oh my God, Colson.”
My pulse beats wildly in my chest. I’m willing to bet he can hear the loud pounding as he leans in closer to press a soft kiss against my collarbone.
I’m unable to resist him. A side tilt of my head exhibits my unabashed need for him and my blatant desire for him to touch me.
His kisses forge a trail, his lips featherlight against my skin, his tongue darting out to taste me. His feral moan fills my ears as his hands slide further, tangling with mine.
For a second, I think I am the only one struggling to keep my wits about me, but his unrelenting grip on my body proves we are both using the other for support. Our resistance is waning, only moments away from taking what we both desperately want.
“You taste so fucking good, Sydney.”
The way he says my name, so confident and commanding, with his tall body towering over me, makes me feel protected and desired.
He releases my hands, reaching up to frame my face, kissing me with a fervor that leaves me to wonder how I’m still breathing. It’s like all the air has been siphoned from my lungs, yet he’s somehow filling me, keeping my heart pounding and the blood rushing through my veins.
He presses a hard kiss against my lips, tilting his head back enough until his eyes meet mine.
“Still just all right?”
“It was okay.” I giggle, not holding back this time. For the first time since meeting him, I see him smile. I mean genuinely smile, and…damn.
Colson takes a step back. I’m sad yet grateful, knowing I need the distance to continue to form a word or thought. He leads me into the living room around the side of the couch, each of us taking a seat on opposite ends. My eyes bounce between where he’s sitting and the empty space between us.
“If I sit any closer, I’m not going to be able to resist touching you, and you looked like you had something on your mind when I opened the door. What’s up?”
It dawns on me how he’s able to recognize when something’s off, after knowing me for such a short time. I’ve always been told I’m hard to read, always keeping my emotions in check. I smile, tucking a piece of hair away from my face, looking down at the coffee table, trying to collect my thoughts before I begin.
“Well…” I say, mentally searching for the words I recited to myself in my apartment, running over how this conversation would go. I hadn’t expected anything to happen when I showed up at his apartment last night. I expected after today, when he realized who my father was and how complicated things could get, surely, he’d change his mind on seeing me, too.
Except, it seems to be the exact opposite of what I had assumed would happen. If that hasn’t been Colson in a nutshell since we first met, he’s been the complete opposite of everything I expected from the very beginning.
“I wanted to say I’m sorry,” I murmur, finally working up the courage to stare him in the eye. His brows are furrowed, a deep wrinkle forming on his forehead, waiting for me to elaborate.
“I know you’re new to Miami, to the team. We both are, and I know you hadn’t expected to walk into practice today to find out my dad is also your coach.” I pause, rubbing my hand over my face, hoping to ease t
he tension of this conversation. I never dreamed I’d find myself in this position.
“I know I mentioned I recently graduated. I’ve been studying business for the last four years, and when this opportunity came up, I couldn’t let it pass me by,” I sigh. “I just started this job. You just started here with the team. I know how this could turn out for both of us if things were to go sour, and I don’t want that hanging over my head.”
“Why are you sorry, exactly?”
Sorry? I pause, trying to run through everything I just said. More like rambling and spit out at him. I was so desperate to get the words out that I’d practically word vomited everywhere.
“Well, I guess everything. For TMZ breaking the news, for last night.” I pause, hearing his sudden inhale of breath before plastering a fake smile on his face. “I mean, for having to get called in on your first day of practice and then finding out who I am the way you did. I want you to know I had no idea who you were. I mean, I know who you are, and I’ve heard your name, but not well enough to put a name with your face. You have to know I didn’t plan this.”
Catching me off guard, he asks, “Do you regret last night?”
“Are you serious?”
“Well, you seem to have everything all figured out. You came over here, seemingly prepared to play it off like you didn’t enjoy it, like you had written me off, you just needed to get through the whole task of, well… telling me.”
My mouth drops open at the idea he would think I regretted it, like I was now somehow trying to brush it under the rug like it never happened. He’s a basketball player for heaven’s sake. He could have his pick of beautiful women ready and waiting for a night with Colson Rush. He’s handsome and sweet, and Lord if he doesn’t know his way around a woman’s body.
Except, looking at it from his perspective, I guess I can see why he’d think I regretted it.
“No, Colson. Of course, I don’t regret last night. It was more than all right…it was incredible.”
“Then what’s the big deal?”
“The big deal?” I scoff. “Well, the little fact that my dad is your boss?”
“No, he’s not. He’s my coach, but he’s not my boss. I’m a grown-ass man, Sydney.”
“This isn’t what I wanted. It’s not how I expected this conversation was going to go.”
“Do you want to go get dinner?” he asks, changing the subject entirely, practically giving me whiplash. I’m not sure whether I want to thank him for giving me an out or ask him why the hell he’d want to spend time with me.
“You need to stop thinking so much. C’mon.” He reaches for my hand again, helping me to stand. I feel wobbly on my feet as he drops my hand, reaching for my waist to help steady me.
“If you wanted to be in my arms again, all you had to do was ask.”
I narrow my eyes, daring him.
“C’mon, let’s go eat. I’m starving, and I need something to distract me from wanting to kiss you again. There’s this pub around the corner I saw on the drive home advertising their dinner menu. Let’s go check it out.”
He doesn’t wait for me to respond as he dashes down the hall to grab his wallet. Thankfully, I had half a mind to stick my cell phone in my pocket, along with my keys and my cards. I have everything I need to make a quick trip down to the pub for dinner.
“I’m ready if you are,” he says, heading down the hallway. He changed into a pair of denim jeans and white tennis shoes to match his crisp white T-shirt, complementing his tanned skin.
My eyes roam over his body, down to the denim-covered muscular thighs. Even the watch sitting on his wrist looks sexy, the dark-brown leather, simple yet rugged. I’ve always been a sucker for the athletes with their confidence and the way they carry themselves, but Colson is in a league all his own. I’m quite positive he could wear a brown paper sack and still manage to make it look sexy.
We take the elevator down to the lobby, cutting out of an exit-only door to the side street. Since Ireland’s Pub is only around the corner, it is a quick walk. My knee is still sore and stiff but feeling much better today. Thankfully, the media who had been circling us, or well, him, yesterday has since disappeared.
It only takes a couple of minutes for us to step up to the small, dark bar with the neon lights hanging in the small front window. Dark bricks encase the front with a green awning hanging overhead.
Colson points between the booths lining the back wall over to the barstools near the bar. I shrug my shoulders before gesturing to the booth in the corner away from the prying eyes of strangers, although it’s surprisingly quiet even for a weeknight.
Colson nods, pressing his large palm to my lower back, warming me through my clothes as he guides me toward the empty table. I slide across the bench seat as he takes the spot across from me. He reaches for the menu, immediately scanning what’s available, and I do the same. The sooner we can order and eat, the sooner I can head back home.
Although, once the thought crosses my mind, I immediately wish I could take it back. It’s not that I don’t want to be here with him. I have a lot on my mind after our conversation. When I’m around him, I seem to lose all sense of right and wrong.
I keep replaying his comments about my dad being his coach, but he’s not the boss of him or his decisions. He’s right! We’re both adults; I’m a grown woman. It’s not that I’m worried about what he could say or think; it’s more what could happen if word got out or if things went south between us.
I just started with the Miami Blaze. This is a fantastic opportunity, a chance for me to make this my career. I want to be here long past when my dad retires. I don’t need or want a fling to ruin my reputation or give off the perception I’m here as a way of meeting and dating players on the team.
It’s never a good idea to mix business with pleasure.
Although, we both know it’s not like we met at work and started seeing each other afterward. In fact, the media did a fan-freaking-tastic job of publicizing our first-time meeting. Once people found out that’s how we truly met, it would clear up any speculation of this being some sort of tawdry affair.
Ugh, I hate even thinking of it like that.
“You okay?” Colson asks, his eyes roaming over my face, trying to gauge if something is bothering me.
“Yeah, why?”
“Well, you looked like someone told you your dog was ugly.”
“Who would say something like that?”
“I don’t know, but you look offended or maybe a little annoyed.”
“You sure seem to read me so well.”
“Maybe this isn’t something you’d want to hear, but you tend to wear what you’re thinking on your face. Anyone who’s paying attention would have a fairly good idea of what’s on your mind. And trust me, I’m paying attention.”
Something about his words warms me all over. I’m in desperate need of space, or maybe a glass of water, as my eyes break apart from him, searching for a waiter to swoop in and help me.
My tongue darts out, swiping across my lips, wetting my skin.
“Sydney,” Colson commands. His words are low, full of desire. “I only sat on the other side of this table, knowing without space between us, I wouldn’t be able to resist kissing you. If you keep fuckin’ lickin’ those lips, all bets will be off.”
Chapter Five
Sydney
Sitting in my office the next day, I’m in the middle of reading emails and making a list of things I need to do before our charity event when my mind wanders back to Colson.
It’s been like this ever since we first met. All it takes is one thing to remind me of him, and before I know it, I’m staring off into space, completely zoned out with my mind wrapped up in all things Colson Rush.
Today, I was reading over an email about traveling expenses for a few upcoming games, and my mind skipped to thoughts of joining the team for an away game. I started to picture staying in the same hotel, Colson showing up at my door after all the coaches and players have
gone to bed. I imagined the look on his face when I opened the door, the smirk on his mouth as he’d taunt me, telling me I better not leave him waiting out there before he pushed his way through the door to take what he wants.
We were getting to the good part when two knocks on my office door jolt me from my thoughts as my dad appears before me dressed for practice in his athletic shorts and black Miami Blaze T-shirt.
Nothing hits like a cold bucket of water over the head like having your dad pop up like a jack in the box when dirty thoughts are running through your mind.
“Hey, Syd, sorry to bother ya. Hope I’m not keeping you from anything important.”
Oh, nothing too important. Just picturing what it would be like to do the horizontal mambo with one of your players.
“Not at all. What’s up?”
“I wanted to talk to you about the Community Cares event coming up on Thursday. I know it’s last minute, and we had talked about having Jaxsen join you, but I was thinking about it after we talked yesterday. What do you think about having Colson help? He used to volunteer for an organization that helped underprivileged kids back in Chicago. I think he’d love the opportunity to join.”
I picture Colson hanging out with the kids at the Boys and Girls Clinic. As if there wasn’t already a growing list of things I found attractive, let’s add him volunteering to help kids in need to the list.
“Yeah, I think that sounds perfect.”
As if he can somehow read my mind or can sense we’re talking about him, Colson turns the corner and he’s standing outside my office door. He looks lost, his eyes scanning the names outside each door before he stops and his eyes fall on mine.
“Hey,” Colson says, looking from my dad over to me.
“Colson, hey. We were just talking about you.”
The slight curve on the edge of his mouth is his not-so-subtle way of letting me know he likes knowing we were talking about him.
“We have a Community Cares event coming up on Thursday. It’s down at the Boys and Girls Clinic, helping some underprivileged kids in Miami prepare for heading back to school. There are around seventy-five kids who will be participating. We’ll fill up a backpack with supplies, hand out free Miami Blaze T-shirts, and shoot some hoops with them for a while.”
Personal Foul: A Sports Office Standalone Romance Page 3
