“Your home is beautiful,” Lauren said. “You live here alone?”
“I bought it when I was in the league. I wasn’t supposed to live here alone. Life just shook out that way. It’s more space than I need, honestly.”
There was sadness in him that told her not to pry further. It was clearly a bachelor’s pad. It was missing the feminine touches like flowers and plants, throws and pillows, but it was large enough to raise an entire family.
“You don’t get lonely here?” Lauren asked.
“Nah, not really,” he answered. “Kitchen’s this way.”
They posted up on the barstools and unwrapped the greasy food.
“You’re sharing those onion rings,” Lauren stated, reaching into his meal and stealing one.
“You’re welcome to whatever I got, Lauren,” he offered, sliding the fries to the side.
“Lo,” Lauren said. “My friends call me Lo.”
Nyair nodded as he smiled bashfully. He rubbed his hands down his Caesar cut and then finessed his chin. “You just friend zoned a nigga so smooth.”
Lauren laughed. “Nooo… I mean, yeah I did, but you’re a pastor, Ny. I don’t know how to act around you. Like, what are the rules?”
“I’m a man, Lo. I can interact with women,” he said, chuckling.
“Interact how, exactly?” Lauren needed clarity. “Like, be specific.”
“However you want me to,” Nyair answered.
Lauren stood and stepped closer to his chair. He sat up straight to welcome her into his space.
He put a hand on her waist and pulled her closer, and she placed a hand on the side of his face.
“Like this? This is fair play?” She asked, softly caressing the side of his face.
“Fair play,” he confirmed. It was their stare for her. She couldn’t break it, and she didn’t want to. Her attraction to him had started innocently. He had been the fine-ass football coach that made sitting through two-hour practices worth it. Just a few hours in his presence, being the focus of his attention, made her feel seen and heard in a way that she hadn’t in years.
“Nyair, I…”
He inched closer, and she felt frozen.
“What up?” He asked. “You got something to say, Lo? You want me to stop? Or you want me to answer the question we both been asking ourselves all day?”
“Is this chemistry real?” She asked.
He licked his lips, but he was so close that she felt the wetness on his lips instantly.
“Is a kiss, okay? Can we do that?” She asked.
He didn’t answer. He swallowed her words, pressing his lips to hers as their tongues danced timidly. He was going easy on her, she could tell. A divorced woman had some reservations, so he couldn’t beast on her, but the softness in his touch was electrifying. Her heart ached in the sweetest way. If Demi had left her wounded and open, Nyair’s kiss was the triage that stopped her from bleeding out. The kiss wasn’t lustful. It wasn’t one that made her feel like an object. It was appreciative and assertive, and it stole her breath away. She kept her eyes closed, but their lips disconnected, and she pressed her forehead to his.
“I really like you, and it terrifies me,” she whispered.
Lauren pushed out a nervous breath. “You’re my son’s coach. I don’t want to change more dynamics for him. You know? He’s my priority. I just want him to be okay.”
“If you’re trying to convince me to lose interest in you, you’re failing. You’re a phenomenal woman, Lo. For real. I respect you for putting DJ first. He’s a great kid,” Nyair said.
“I have to think about him first,” she said. “He admires and respects you. You’ve been his safe space through this divorce. I can’t steal that from him.”
Nyair nodded.
