For keeps, p.8
For Keeps, page 8
“Let’s go, D!” Leslie yelled, shaking me by the shoulders, pulling my attention from Tyler to her.
Soon enough, Jackie joined us and we began performing the coordinated dance to the song that we’d come up well over a decade prior. Something happened to me when I remembered that Tyler was still watching me as I danced. I bent at the waist, poking my ass out, and came up swiftly, glancing over my shoulder to see him still smirking in my direction. Leslie, Jackie, and I spun in a circle before dropping low and picking it up, biting our pointer fingers. I threw caution to the wind as I fully embraced my inner stripper that this, and any song by the Pussycat Dolls, brought out in me. Knowing I had an audience made it all the more fun.
“Woo!” Leslie exclaimed.
“We still got it, ladies!” Jackie panted once the song finished.
We all turned and bowed and waved to the patrons who were standing around clapping for us.
“That was fun!” Leslie stated.
“It was even more fun to watch.” Tyler’s deep voice cut through the surrounding sounds of the lounge, reaching my ears. How he was able to do that, I had no idea. “I still can’t believe you were a cheerleader,” he stated, eyeing me as if challenging me to prove it.
“Believe it. Look!” Leslie butted in, pulling out her phone and bringing up a picture to show Tyler.
He peeled his gaze from me and peered down at the screen Leslie had thrust in his face. His smile increased. Reluctantly, I sauntered over, but even in six inch heels I had to lift up on my tiptoes to see the image Leslie was sharing with him. It was a picture of one of our cheer competitions. Leslie and I were front and center, me at the top of the pyramid due to my being one of the smallest members on the team.
“Good to know,” Tyler stated before eyeing me suspiciously.
I narrowed my gaze, wondering what he meant by that, but was too bound by pride to ask. At least, I was too proud to ask in front of Leslie because as soon as she walked away, once her phone began ringing, I questioned, “Why’s that good to know?”
Tyler looked down at me, lifting his auburn eyebrows at me before leaning over close to my ear. “Good to know as much information as possible about my future wife.”
If I’d thought my steps had faltered before, that had been nothing next to the stumble I’d almost taken at that comment. Again, however, my unsteady body was kept upright by the steady embrace of Tyler.
“See? Falling for me already.”
Clearing my throat, I mentally gathered my wayward emotions, physically pushing out of his embrace. “Mr. Townsend, I—”
“We’re way past the Mr. Townsend bullshit, Destiny.”
Another lump stuck in my throat at the sound of my name from his lips.
“Tyler. It’s only two syllables. Say it. Ty-ler,” he urged.
“I-I, what?”
“Ty-ler.”
“Ty-” my mouth began to recite without my permission, “-ler.”
“There it is.” He grinned, the desire in his gaze practically burning me. “Get used to calling it, loudly, softly, in between. Practice makes perfect, and you’ll have plenty of practice with it.”
“Tyler, what the he—”
“See how easily it falls from your lips already.” His eyes dropped to my lips and he ran his tongue along his own bottom lip.
Moisture pooled in places that were indecent for public exposure.
He bent lower, completely crowding my personal space. “How long do you think I’m going to let you play this game?”
My eyes widened as I pulled back and stared up at him. “Excuse you?”
“You heard me. How long do you think I’m going to let you keep this up?”
“Tyler, what are you even talking about?”
A heart-stopping, lascivious grin spread over his face. “Avoided saying it for so long, now you can’t stop saying it. I knew you could take direction if pushed a little.”
I scowled at him, not willing to admit that I did indeed enjoy saying his name.
“I don’t take direction from anyone,” I hissed.
“You will, Destiny. You will.”
Another pool of moisture wrenched from my body at the assured tone he’d said those words. I blinked my eyes closed, needing at least a short reprieve from his penetrating gaze.
“Destiny, we have to go.”
I pushed out all of the air in my lungs, extremely grateful for Leslie’s interruption.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Townsend,” Leslie stated, looking over at Tyler, apologetically.
“No worries.” He kept his eyes trained on me as he responded to Leslie, “I needed to head out myself. Practice tomorrow. Destiny, I’ll see you next week.”
It sounded more like a warning than a parting.
“Sorry, girl,” Leslie stepped in as she wrapped her arm around mine. “The husband got upset that we were out so late.”
Her words barely registered as I watched Tyler back up and slowly turn to walk away.
“Wh-what?” I turned to see Leslie eyeing me, cocking her head to the side. I cleared my throat. “What were you saying?”
“Since when do you know Tyler Townsend?”
I shrugged. “Uh, I don’t know him. I was hired by the Cougars for their training camp series on financial planning. No big deal.” I shrugged again.
“Uh, huh. Shit,” she cursed and glanced at her cell phone in her hand. “Jerry is freaking out. I go out for a few hours and the man loses his shit.”
“Probably thinks you’re doing the same thing he’s doing when he’s out of your sight,” I mumbled.
“What was that?” Leslie peeked over her shoulder at me.
“Nothing. Tell your husband we’re on the way.” We both grabbed our clutches and hugged Jackie and Stacey good-bye.
“We’re still on for the hip hop dance class tomorrow morning, right?” Leslie questioned before she climbed out of the Uber we’d taken to her hotel.
“Nine a.m. sharp. Don’t be late,” I added, sliding over in the backseat.
“Cool. See ya in the morning.” She closed the door and waved as we drove off.
I sat back in my seat, closing my eyes, only to have them pop open again when the image of Tyler smirking down on me as we danced appeared in my mind. I squirmed in my seat, hating to admit to myself that for another night, the possibility of my falling asleep without the memory of Tyler’s gaze was more than likely an impossibility.
Chapter Seven
Tyler
“What the fuck are you calling me so early about?” my older brother, Joshua, growled into the phone.
“How nice to hear your voice in the morning as well.” It was six-thirty in the morning and everyone in the family knew Joshua was not a morning person. It’s why whenever I called him, I made sure to make it bright and early. Just to piss him off. But whereas the other early morning calls were just to get a rise out of him, this call was important.
“Fuck you, Ty. What do you want? Wait, hang on …”
I paused, listening intently as the hushed tones of a feminine voice sounded in the background.
“It’s just Ty. Go back to sleep.”
“Please give Kayla my regards.”
“Fuck off. What do you want?”
I chuckled into the phone, still enjoying the ability to piss my brothers off, before clearing my throat. “I need to ask you about the house.”
“What house?”
“My house.”
“You don’t have a house. You’ve got a fucking plot you picked out nearly two years ago but refused to build anything on it.”
“Yeah, details. Whatever. Listen, what’s the build time on it?”
“It depends on the square footage. Your plot is almost two acres so you can accommodate a house up to eight to ten thousand square feet. The larger it is the longer it’s going to take to bu— Wait.”
Fuck. I could hear my brother putting two and two together in his head. I’d partially been hoping the earlier time would prevent him from thinking so sharply. No such luck.
“Why the sudden interest in building now? You’ve gone the last twenty-three months without so much as even stopping by the property to—”
“For someone who doesn’t like mornings, you sure do like asking a lot of questions in the a.m. Just answer my damn question and I’ll let you get back to Kayla.”
“First of all, don’t fucking worry about Kayla. She’s—”
“Ha! So that is who’s in your bed. I knew it. You don’t let any woman over your place.”
“Didn’t I tell you to mind your fucking business?”
I shrugged. “Probably, but don’t ask for privacy if you’re not willing to grant it, big brother.”
The opposite end of the phone was silent for a heartbeat. “Touché.”
“Now about that build time.”
“Like I said, it depends on size, but it typically can take twelve to eighteen months.”
I frowned, not liking that answer. “What if I put a rush on it?”
Another pause.
“Well, I suppose we could hire extra men to expedite the build. We could probably get the build time to a little as ten to twelve months.”
I nodded even though he couldn’t see me.
“Anything shorter than that and I wouldn’t dare put my stamp of approval on it, nor would I have my brother living in a house I didn’t absolutely know was safe.”
“I hear ya,” I told Josh.
“Do you know what you want in terms of square footage and design?”
I pondered his question for a moment. “Not quite yet. I’ll have to think on it some more.”
“I can have my assistant resend you some different designs and details.”
“I’d like that. Thanks, Josh. I gotta go.”
“Don’t call me this fucking early again unless your ass is in trou—”
I didn’t let him get the last word out before I hung up. He always ended our early morning exchanges the same way.
“Let’s go!” I stepped into the hotel room, calling Kelvin who was still sleeping in the bed.
“The hell?” he grunted, sitting up slowly from the bed, rubbing his eyes.
“We’ve got practice.”
“Man, I can’t wait ’til camp is over and I go back to living alone,” he groaned.
“You say the same shit every year. Where would your ass be if I wasn’t waking you up for practice these past four years?”
“Well rested!”
Chuckling, I tossed a towel at Kelvin. “And out of a damn job. Let’s go.” It was one of the last few days of training camp. We had our first pre-season scrimmage the following weekend. Which meant, this was the final day that Destiny McDonald would be teaching her seminar. After the previous Friday night’s outing, she’d pretty much been the only thing on my mind. I’d meant every word I said to her Friday night, which had led to this morning’s early phone call. I’d sat on the property I bought for the last two years, opting to utilize the condo in downtown Williamsport as my main residence when I was in town. I was often on the road during our season, and during the off-season I was constantly on the go doing commercials, photoshoots, or other events for sponsors. But now, I had a reason to slow down. To finally settle on the type of home I wanted to live in permanently.
Destiny McDonald was in a world of trouble and she didn’t even know it.
****
Destiny
“Well, gentlemen, it’s been a pleasure sharing with you what I know over the last few weeks. You’ve made this a rather enjoyable experience.” I peered around the lecture hall at the entire Cougars football team, my eyes landing on Leonard Riggs. “Most of you, anyway.”
A few snickers sounded around the room. At the same time Leonard’s eyes squinted in my direction. I mentally brushed his look off. My eyes swung to the far end of the front row but I wouldn’t let them venture to the final seat in the row. I knew he’d be staring at me intently as he’d done ever since my first class in that same room. After Friday night, thoughts of Tyler threatened to consume me at every turn. I just needed to get through that final lecture and hightail my ass out of there, to never have to see him again, save for Sunday afternoons or Monday nights when I turned on the football game.
“You all have one last opportunity to ask me any question you want. Wait,” I paused, seeing a few hands go up a little too eagerly, “not anything. It must pertain to financial planning.” Two hands dropped instantly. I dipped my head and had to keep my head from turning in the direction of Tyler.
“I got a question.”
“Yes, Mr. Johnson,” I answered the team’s leading tackle.
“I get all of the budgeting stuff you talked about. It makes sense. My lady and I started to use of it actually.”
“That’s great.” I perked up. “So what’s your question?”
“You mentioned something about some type of account or fund to save up for things in the future. I forgot what you called them. Uhh …”
“Irregular expenses?”
“Right, irregular expenses. I’m confused on what type of account I would use to save for those.”
I nodded. “Yes, the concept is called a sinking fund because the idea is that you put money aside in an account, or sink those funds for a time when you need them. You have my card right, Mr. Johnson?” I remembered giving him one of my business cards the previous week.
“Yeah.”
“Great. Give my office a call and we can have you and your wife come down to talk more about it. I’ll even give you two a free first time consultation.”
“That’s what’s up.” He nodded. “’Preciate it.”
“Any other questions?”
“I’ve got a question.”
My toes curled in my high heels at the sound of his voice. Slowly, I turned my head in Tyler’s direction, regretting that I even opened myself up to any more questions.
“Yes, Mr. Townsend.”
His smile dropped and a frown formed. Instantly, I felt chastised and he hadn’t said a word. I knew it was my using the formality of his last name instead of calling him Tyler, as he’d instructed. Instructed. There’s a word I would have cursed any other man out for trying to do with me, but for some reason I felt the compulsion to apologize. I shook my head of just silly thoughts.
“I didn’t receive a business card. You must’ve forgotten to give me one.”
My eyes narrowed and I clenched my teeth. “I don’t have any—”
“What are those on the desk behind you?” He nodded in the direction of the desk.
I turned to see a stack of business cards I’d set out on the table earlier sitting front and center. I couldn’t make a scene. Not in front of the entire football team and their coaching staff. Without another word, I turned toward the desk, sauntering over and picking up one of my business cards before turning back.
“Here you are, Mr. Townsend.” I went to place the card on his desk when his large hand covered mine. I rush of air escaped my mouth.
“Tyler,” he reiterated just loud enough for me to hear.
Pulling my hand free, I moved to the other side of the lecture hall, still feeling his eyes on my backside. “Okay, well, it’s been a pleasure. Don’t hesitate to reach out if you have any questions and are just too shy to ask in front of your teammates. Thanks again, guys. And good luck with your upcoming season. I’ll be rooting for you from my living room.”
With that last parting comment, I turned to my briefcase and began stuffing my business cards and belongings back inside to get out of there as quickly as possible.
“Destiny, can you hold up for a minute?” Mike called.
Dammit. I was almost out of there. “Sure,” I mumbled to Mike.
“All right, fellas, we’ve got practice in about forty-five minutes. Make sure you refuel up with lunch and are back on the field. On time,” he stressed the last part, looking directly at Leonard.
He waited for the team to disperse before turning his attention on me.
“I wanted to thank you for these last few weeks.”
“Brenda tell you to say that?” I teased.
He chuckled a little. “No. But seriously, I’m sure it wasn’t easy walking into this lions’ den. These guys can be tough, and don’t always take direction easily, but you handled yourself well.”
“Don’t sweat it, Coach. They weren’t that bad, and once they realized I knew my stuff, most of them settled down long enough to listen.”
Mike nodded. “Hey, we’ve got our first scrimmage next Saturday. Afterwards, we’re going out to celebrate the start of the season. Just dinner at a local place, nothing fancy. Brenda will be joining us if you’d like to come.”
“Uh …” My eyes traveled around the empty room. “Let me think about it.”
“Fair enough. Thanks, again.” He nodded, patting me on the shoulder before heading out of the lecture hall door that the other coaches had passed through a few minutes prior.
I looked around the room again, both relieved and slightly disappointed to see that it was empty. While I had told myself I wasn’t looking for Tyler to hang around, the little pang in my chest told me that I might’ve been lying to myself.
Just as I was picking up my briefcase to head out, my phone chimed with an incoming FaceTime. It was Leslie. Knowing I had some time before I needed to be back at the office for an afternoon conference call, I placed my briefcase back on the desk and answered.
“You’ve barely been gone twelve hours and are already calling. Missed me that much?” I answered.
“You know it,” she responded, giggling. “I had a great time this weekend. I missed hanging out like we used to. With me in LA and you in Williamsport.”
I pouted. “I miss you, too. This weekend was fun, wasn’t it?” After our Friday night outing, Leslie and I had met up for a Saturday morning hip hop dance class, then had brunch, featuring bottomless mimosas where we talked and reminisced on our college days. We parted ways Saturday afternoon because she’d had a packed schedule with her husband for the rest of the weekend. They’d just left the previous evening.
