Passion Overtime

by Pamela Yaye

  Mr. Morrow’s cheeks sagged when his jaw fell open. “You guys know each other?”

  “We took a few classes together,” she was quick to say, “and we knew a lot of the same people on campus.”

  Her smile was polite, guarded, filled with manufactured warmth. He’d been haunted by her face for all these years and he knew forced emotion when he saw it. “Welcome back to Hollington, Mr. Franklin. We’re glad to have you.”

  Disappointed by her lukewarm greeting, he dug his hands into his pockets and shook off feelings of frustration. He wasn’t doing play drills in the scorching Dallas heat or working out with his trainer, but he needed a moment to catch his breath. This was insane. He’d dated models, dancers and an impressive collection of singers and actresses, but he’d never been more nervous than he was right now.

  “I wish I could stay, but I have a board meeting in fifteen minutes,” Mr. Morrow explained. “I’d cancel, but everyone’s expecting me.”

  Thank God. I thought he’d never leave. While Terrence waited for the man to disappear, he studied Kyra closely, carefully, examining every aspect of her appearance. Light eyes, plump glossy lips, curves stacked on top of curves. Her hair had a soft sheen to it and was cut in a dramatic, cheek-grazing bob. The reddish-brown hue was a sharp contrast to her coffee-with-cream complexion and played up her soft, pale eyes. Underneath her mustard blazer was a white blouse and a belted skirt that emphasized her soda pop bottle shape.

  Terrence licked his lips. He’d just finished a bottle of vitamin water, but he was suddenly thirstier than a Kenyan marathon runner. High-heeled sandals gave Kyra height, and reminded him of those clunky shoes she used to wear back in the day. The PR manager hated her diminutive height and still did everything in her power to appear taller. Five feet four inches was listed on her driver’s license, but she used to swear on a stack of bibles that she was five-six.

  “Terrence, we’ll talk later this week,” Walter promised, pausing at the door. “If you need anything, anything at all, just let Kyra know. She’ll take good care of you.”

  “What was that all about?” he asked, when they were alone. “Why didn’t you tell him the truth?” He added, half-teasing, “You’re not embarrassed of me, are you Kyra?”

  The corners of her lips tightened. “We’re going to be spending a lot of time together in the coming weeks and I’d like if we could put the past behind us.”

  Her eyes were so pretty, so deep and incredibly bright, he couldn’t concentrate on what she was saying. Kyra was all business, but that didn’t stop Terrence from wanting her. He wanted to touch her, hold her, feel the delicious heat of that shapely body. But he knew better than to touch her. Not yet, anyway. After, when she’d loosened up and quit being so tense, he’d show the public relations director that he was a changed man.

  The sound of his name on her heavily painted cherry-red lips brought him back to the present. “Fine. If that’s what you want, I’ll go along with it.”

  On the football field he was flashy, brazen, daring even, but here, in Hollington, standing inches away from his first love, his confidence deserted him. He was just another man, lusting over a ridiculously beautiful woman, and though he was a smart, articulate guy, he didn’t have the words to tell Kyra just how stunning she was. “Anything else on your mind?”

  “I know you’re very busy, so let’s get started.”

  Terrence pumped more shine into his smile. “I have all the time in the world.”

  “Well, I don’t.”

  His face must have showed his surprise, because she suddenly looked contrite.

  Gesturing to one of the chairs around the table, she sat down and crossed her legs. Shoulders squared, hands clasped, she looked like a woman in control of herself and her surroundings. And for now, she was. “I promise to be brief.”

  Terrence followed her lead. Seated, his eyes roving appreciatively over her chest and hips, he tried not to stare at her moist, luscious mouth.

  “Mr. Rawlins quit unexpectedly, leaving us scrambling to find a suitable replacement, and although the interim coach is doing a fine job, President Morrow made it very clear that you’re the only one he wants for our team.”

  “What do you think, Kyra?”

  “I think you’ll bring excitement back to Hollington and connect with the freshman players.” Another artificial smile. “Why don’t I tell you more about the specifics of the job, and we’ll go from there?”

  Kyra tucked a chunk of hair behind her ear. Sunlight splashed through the window and bounced off the diamond ring on her hand. Panic swelling in his chest, he checked to see which finger. Second from the left. What? Kyra was married?

  Twenty minutes passed. Kyra delivered her pitch and though her enthusiasm was contagious, he didn’t hear more than five words. How was he supposed to concentrate when she smelled so damn good? No one could concentrate under these conditions. Not even the Pope, and he was the king, or rather, the father of cool.

  “I was hoping you’d stop me when I got carried away,” she confessed, dropping her hands in her lap. “What do you think so far?”

  “I think you’re beautiful.”

  Terrence couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw surprise flash in her eyes. “It’s eleven thirty,” he told her. “Why don’t we continue this discussion over lunch?”

  Kyra got to her feet. “I can’t. It’s been a zoo around here all day and I’m busy getting everything ready for reunion weekend.”

  “You can’t take an hour out of your day to have a bite with an old friend?”

  “I’m afraid not, but we can set up another time next week to discuss the coaching position. Also, other people in the Hollington organization will want to speak to you about this fantastic opportunity.” Her voice was light, her words carefully chosen, but he heard the chill in her tone. To signify the end of their conversation, she strode over to the door and opened it. “I’ll show you out.”

  Terrence knew what a brush-off looked like and Kyra had always been an expert at letting a guy down easy. His gut feeling was that the curvy PR director was going to be a tough cookie to crack, but Terrence wasn’t worried. He was made to compete, to win, to perform at the highest level, and it didn’t matter if he was shooting hoops or playing blackjack. He played to win. “Ladies first,” he announced, gesturing for her to precede him. “Why don’t you tell me more about the players on the team?”

  Falling in step with her, they strode past narrow offices and sunlit conference rooms. To block out the noises around them, he leaned in, purposely brushing against her. Kyra hopped as if she’d been jabbed with a pitchfork. The message was clear: look, but don’t touch.

  Convinced she was appalled at his behavior, Terrence decided to cool his Nikes. This was her turf, her world, and if he came on too strong, she’d think he was just another pompous athlete trying to score some tail. For now, he’d sit back and let Kyra take the lead. Hell, why not, when she looked so damn sexy doing it?

  Chapter 2

  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 adve
rtising 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 te
n 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.”