Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
touré
I missed this.
The laughter with these first friends; people who knew me before the acclaim and awards.
They’ve seen me drunk, heartbroken, deflated, stressed.
Helped me navigate the shock of freedom that comes with college; to new life in that fragile suspension between dependent and adult.
Friends who don’t hold the years I lost touch against me.
We’ve matured and followed our own paths.
Careers, marriages. Accomplishments, losses.
Some are parents. Some are divorced. Widowed.
By measures we’ve gone through hell and done so well on our own terms in our own ways, and as we huddle in the back booth that was always ours at Top Dog, I appreciate several things.
I’m glad the centennial and homecoming reunited us this way.
I’m glad Celine seemed to warm to me some and maybe I haven’t screwed things up too badly with my daughter.
I’m really glad I’m sitting across from the girl who stole my heart at a glance in freshman orientation.
We’re three rounds and a dozen stories in, laughing at Kyle’s anecdote about his newborn.
The booth is stuffed and we’re squeezed around the table loaded with wings, fries, and several pitchers of beer.
Unfortunately, Niomi is seated across from me and there’s been no time to pick up where we left off at the step show.
She looks up and our eyes lock. Her beer pauses mid-air on its way to her mouth.
Both of her brows lift as if to ask me a question.
My only answer is a slow smile and a quick shake of my head.
What I need to say to Niomi can’t be done through silent signals in a crowded booth.
I need some real time with her, and it looks less and less likely that I will get it tonight.
“Kids,” Carmella, who was pre-med at Finley and is now a pediatrician, says. “I deal with them all day at work like a champ, but let me get home to my teenage twins and I’m at a loss.”
“I know the feeling. Just when we thought we were done,” Kyle says. “This last one snuck up on us.”
“Did you ever think about kids, Niomi?” Carmella asks. “I remember when we were in school you wanted like three or four.”
“Oh.” Niomi traces the glass holding her beer with one finger, lowering her lashes. “Let’s just say I reassessed the situation. When my career took off, I kept delaying marriage. Delaying kids. Not sure they’re in my cards now. I do have two stepdaughters. Well . . .I did have them.”
Her laugh is brief and not bitter.
“I guess since the divorce I’m not actually their stepmother anymore. My ex and I are friends and stay in touch, though. They still invite me to birthdays and graduations. They may be as close as I’ll ever get.”
I’m not sure if regret tints her words or not. The conversation shifts, but I can’t look away from Niomi’s face. Despite the laugh she releases when Kyle launches into another of his stories, a guard has fallen and it feels like she pulled the blinds on her expression.
A few minutes later, Niomi scoots out of the booth and stands.
“Potty break,” she says, grabbing her glass and taking one last swig before heading toward the restrooms.
I watch her until she disappears down the corridor, and my gaze lingers there even after she’s gone.
“What are you waiting for?” Kyle asks in a low voice near my ear. “You making your move tonight or what?”
“Huh?” I turn my head, dragging my gaze from the dark hall that just swallowed up Niomi’s curvy figure. “What?”
“Her.” He nods in the direction Niomi just took. “I know you not letting her get away again. Ever since you spotted her our first night on campus, you’ve been into that woman.”
I take a sip of my nearly-flat beer and roll my eyes. “Now you exaggerating.”
“Am I?” He leans closer, pitching his voice low beneath the laughter and conversation of our friends at the table. “So it was a coincidence that every time she broke up with someone, you magically found yourself free, too, dumping girls left and right to try for Niomi Spencer.”
“Never worked. There was always somebody waiting in the wings. I never had a shot.”
“Correction. You never took your shot, unless you count that one kiss you didn’t follow through on.”
“Damn, Kyle. What was I supposed to do? She was dating some other dude. Besides, I thought I’d be back and maybe get one more chance. I don’t regret Celine, but if I hadn’t given in to all my horny loneliness in Paris, this might be a different conversation.”
“It would be a different life, man. You would have come back here. Maybe got caught up with Niomi. Maybe not, but you probably would have stayed stateside and never gone off to all those places where you accomplished everything you have. You drop a domino to the left instead of the right, it’s a different game.
But your right now reality? That you can do something about. ”
“For an idiot, you make a lot of sense sometimes,” I admit with a grudging, wry grin.
“I know I do, so listen to me. You have a beautiful daughter, have been on the adventure of a lifetime and have a career most only dream of. You’ve checked all the boxes, but you never checked her.
Never tested to see if the reality of Niomi measures up to all them damn fantasies I had to listen to. ”
“I never talked about fantasies to you.”
“Bruh, you talked in your sleep, and believe me, Niomi came up more than once.”
I glance toward the corridor. She’ll be back at the table soon, and any chance for real conversation will get lost in the group’s jovial catch-up.
All my life I’ve made opportunities where seemingly none existed.
I’m famous for creating pathways to a story when logic and the odds threw up roadblocks.
For a guy who’s known to seize the moment and make the most of it, I’ve missed this one over and over again.
I take one last fortifying gulp of my drink and stand.
Kyle extends his hand for a fist bump. “That’s what I’m talking about.”
I walk down the corridor and around the corner to the bank of restrooms. Leaning against the wall, I try to strike the balance between nonchalant and stalker.
The door swings open and Niomi emerges, her steps faltering when she catches sight of me.
The bright pink of her dress carves her out of the shadows, each curve and line tight and tempting.
“Oh, hey.” She glances over my shoulder and back to my face, frowning a little. “Something wrong?”
“I would say so, yeah.” I close the space between us, slipping my hands into the pockets of my slacks and propping my shoulder against the wall again. “This day has been great, but it feels incomplete somehow.”
“Incomplete?” She faces me, leaning her shoulder against the wall, too. “How so?”
“We got cut off at the step show. I was telling you that things didn’t work out with Melissa because I think she knew there was always someone else in the back of my mind.”
“This person who was at the back of your mind . . .”
“You.” I say it so there’s no confusion, and her breath hitches. She lifts her eyes to meet mine and the air smolders with memory and possibility. “When I kissed you, I knew things hadn’t ended with Randy, but I did hope for a beginning with you somehow.”
“We were both so buzzed, I wasn’t sure if you forgot.” Her brief laugh echoes in the corridor. “Hell, sometimes I wasn’t sure if it even happened.”
“Oh it happened.” I reach out to lift her chin, my thumb brushing the velvety skin of her cheek. “Believe it or not, I’ve replayed that kiss more than once over the years.”
I step closer, dipping to catch her eyes. A swallow ripples under the smooth skin of her throat and her breath quickens, betraying how this moment is affecting her. I hope the way it’s affecting me.
“I actually wondered if it was as good as I remembered, or if I’d just built it up to be one of the best kisses of my life,” I say.
“And?” She delivers the word on a husky whisper.
“And.” I step closer. So close she has to tip her head back to hold my gaze. “There’s only one way to find out.”
I palm the curve of her waist, checking her expression for anything less than desire. Less than welcome. With a short intake of breath, she holds my stare and reaches up to cup my jaw. I turn my head, kissing her palm as a prelude. A taste of what’s to come.
Slowly, I lower my head until mere centimeters separate our lips.
Our breaths mingle and she lifts, closing the space between us, melding her mouth to mine, opening under mine.
The first brush of our tongues sends lightning down my spine, and she shudders against me in response.
My hand tightens at her waist and I draw her closer until the curves I’ve been watching all day are pressed into me, fit perfectly to me.
She feels as good as she looks, and my hand wanders up to follow the elegant line of her back.
If there was an ember left from our first kiss, as soon as our lips touch it ignites.
It burns, drawing a groan from me and something that sounds like a whimper from Niomi.
The kiss turns ravenous, our heads twisting to deepen it.
Our hands roaming almost frantically over one another.
I reach up and hold her face between my hands, taking and taking from the sweet heat of her mouth.
She gives it to me, gripping my neck and pulling me even closer.
“Niomi!” Janelle’s voice reaches around the corner before she does. “You still back here?”
Niomi pulls away and stares up at me wide-eyed. Her mouth is soft and damp and kiss-swollen. I slump against the wall, my breath coming hard and fast and choppy like I’ve been running. Her breasts heave with her own breaths, swift and shallow.
“Girl, you ready?” Janelle asks, rounding the corner. “We supposed to be meeting . . . oh!”
She swings a surprised glance between the two of us. We’re no longer flush, but my hand still rests at Niomi’s waist, as if even subconsciously, after all these years I’m not ready to let her go again.
“Um,” Janelle says. “Carmella and a few of the other girls are hanging at the hotel tonight. We had talked about going back to their room, but if you can’t—”
“No, it’s fine.” Niomi smooths the front of her dress with one hand and her hair with the other. “I’ll be right there. Just give me a sec.”
Janelle smirks knowingly before turning to retrace her steps back to the table.
“I . . .I know we have a lot to discuss.” Niomi draws a line down my chest with her index finger. “I mean if you want to continue this . . .conversation.”
“I do. We should.”
“Agreed, but let’s get through all the activity tomorrow and maybe check in after everything is over? I have a really early start and I’ll be working to capture shots. Plus it’s Celine’s big day and I know you want to be there for her, to focus on her.”
“I have to, yes. There’s a lot of ground I need to regain with that kid.”
“I sensed that.”
“You did?”
She takes my hand, squeezes and looks up at me with what feels like sympathy. “Just a vibe and her comment about you being home more.”
“So you did hear that. I came this weekend to be present for her in a way I haven’t always been because my job was such a priority. Sometimes she hasn’t felt like she was the most important thing to me.”
“And this weekend she should.” She gives my hand one more squeeze before releasing it completely.
“So you go rest and be ready first thing in the morning at the parade to cheer her on. I’m gonna catch up with these chicks for a little bit, but then I’m going to bed because tomorrow is not all play for me. ”
“So you’re working all day?”
“All day, yes.” She steps closer, tips up to whisper in my ear. “But not all night. After the game I’m free.”
On instinct, I palm her waist again, drawing in a deep breath of her fresh scent. “Celine has already told me she won’t have much time for me til Sunday, so after the game, I’ll be free, too.”
“Then be ready to finish this conversation.” She pulls away, walks backward a few paces down the corridor but turns to leave me with one last thought. “It’s long overdue.”