First and Ten (4 page)

“Rome,” Clark, his personal trainer, said. “I
need to send you to a masseuse.”

“Is it a happy ending type masseuse or a real
one?”

“Real, he,” Clark began again, this time with
his arms crossed with his dark eyes letting Rome know he could hurt
him and worse yet, Rome would have been paying for it, “focuses on
sports massage, that hip of yours worries me.”

Rome flexed his hamstring and hip. Sure, he’d
been a bit stiff, but winter still had a stinger in the city,
biting those who ventured out too long. Ice still floated on the
edges of Lake Michigan. He probably just needed a good steam.

“It’s not a suggestion,” Clark ordered,
stopping Rome from stretching. “You need an hour at least.”

“I’m not really a fan of people touching
me.”

“I’m not really of fan of working with
pussies and yet, you’re here.”

“Get me the best,” Rome acquiesced. Clark
wasn’t trying to torture him, he was trying to extend Rome’s career
and he needed to nut up and take the advice of his trainer. At
five-six, Clark was a gym rat constantly learning new techniques.
All his clients towered over him, yet feared his wrath.

“You’ll thank me.” Clark slapped Rome’s
shoulder. “I already sent the details to your phone. Shel had a
cancellation so you can get in at six. Haven’t I kept you in the
game longer than most?”

“Fine.” He was speaking the truth. Not only
had Rome spent his entire career on the pro-bowl list, being a
running back he should be declining, instead he was entering his
sixth season strong.

His uneasiness about touching would have to
be put to the side for an hour. It was a stupid phobia to have
really. He didn’t mind being in the middle of fifty-three guys and
another ten or so coaches jumping and chanting. But one on one was
never his thing.

“Wait, did you say he?”

Four hours later, Jerome walked through the
door of Escape Spa. Light pan flute music played as water gently
trickled down a panel of glass on the wall pooling into a small
basin. The walls had shelves with balms, candles, teas, and
therapeutic products. Behind a glass countertop with a rock face
stood a pleasant looking woman with a black coat buttoned on the
side. The spa’s logo was embroidered above her left breast along
with her name.

“Welcome,” Saraphina said as her light lashes
fluttered around emerald eyes. “How can I help you?”

“Um,” Jerome shifted uncomfortably. “My
trainer sent me…look this place is…”

“Mr. Speed,” she said with certainty.

“Yes.”

“Clark warned me about you. Sheldon is
expecting you. I have a few forms for you to fill out.” Saraphina
retrieved a clipboard and snapped three forms on it. “This is your
first time with us, correct?”

“Yes, it’s just…” Jerome leaned his elbows on
the counter and she met him halfway. “I’m not going to get naked…”
he practically whimpered. “You know I’m—”

“You’d like a guy to buy you dinner first,” a
familiar voice came from behind him and he stood up quickly to see
Dani standing with her arms crossed.

Her hair was in one of those misshaped buns
that women do as they rush out of the house. With black yoga pants
and a Grizzlies windbreaker, she looked ready for a workout, not a
massage.

“You know I’m not one to judge,” he said.
“People can live however they like.”

“You know what makes me smile?” she
asked.

“What?”

“Never has a woman gone to a masseuse and
assumed she was copping a feel.”

“That’s not why—”

“You get naked in a shower with fifty plus
guys almost every day for months, in college closer to ninety…”

“That’s not one on one. And none of them ever
rubbed my shoulders.”

“From the way you’re standing, it’s not your
shoulders that need rubbing.”

Her terminator eyes scanned his body and he
recalled her hands doing the same thing a few days ago. He hadn’t
minded the contact.

“Now you’re a body expert?” he teased the
woman whose hands had been haunting him.

“I dress people. I can tell when one side is
higher than another.”

What is with this woman? Rome took the
paperwork from Saraphina, who checked in Dani then she led them
both to their respective locker rooms. Stripping down to his
boxers, he tied the robe around himself and sat in the steam room
for fifteen minutes. Following Saraphina’s instructions, he took
the clipboard with him to the waiting area. Dani sat with a warm
cup of tea clutched in her hands and her legs crossed at the knee.
He tried not to be mesmerized by her slight tan and shapely
thigh.

She sipped her tea and he looked up to see
her staring with sapphire eyes. How he missed those before he
couldn’t explain. Even in the dim light of the waiting area they
sparkled.

“This why you don’t work on Tuesday nights? A
standing massage appointment?” he questioned, feeling his agent had
worked hook-up magic again.

“Nope, Tuesday nights are mine and each week
I do something different.”

“Like what?”

“Last week I splurged on a meal at La
Femme.”

“That is a splurge.”

“I ate off the dollar menu the rest of the
week when I was out, but it was worth it.”

“And this?”

“Was a deal I found on Groupon,” Dani
confessed. “It seemed like a Tuesday Treat.”

“So there is no way my trainer knew you’d be
here?”

“Unless he works for the CIA or something,
none at all. My phone goes off at five and doesn’t come back on
until midnight.”

“Danika,” a woman in a polo and khakis said
as she came into the calm room, followed by a big man.

“Jerome?” the man said and Jerome turned to
Dani.

“Guess I’ll see you after we’re both
done.”

Dani placed her mug on the table and replied.
“Maybe.”

Dani let her breath out slowly, not even
registering what the masseuse was saying. She did notice the woman
had pointed to a hook before she walked out of the room. Right,
Dani shook her head to get it on straight. Stripping down to just a
pair of panties, she hung her robe on the hook then turned to pull
the sheet back when the door opened.

“I’m not ready,” she said quickly, covering
her chest.

“I’m sorry,” a deep baritone replied. On
instinct she turned around and snapped back, snatching the sheet to
cover herself before turning back to confront the interloper.

“I didn’t see anything,” Jerome said as he
held one hand out and had another over his eyes. “I swear. I’m
sorry.”

“Mr. Speed, you can see a two-foot hole in
the middle of chaos. Don’t play me for a fool. You at least saw my
ass.”

“Guess we both got a Tuesday Treat.” He
lowered his hands and Dani held in the smirk his comment induced.
“I guess I’ll have to sign a contract with you now.”

“I don’t have an opening for you.”

The comment caused a tingling and tightening
in one particular opening in desperate need of filling. Warmth
exploded on her cheeks and Jerome arched an eyebrow at her. Could
he smell her desperation or the fact she couldn’t be around him for
two minutes without imagining her hands exploring his body? She
wondered if Speed could really kill. If so, it would be the only
way she’d want to go.

“Is it because I’m black?” he asked and her
heart sank. “Because I noticed you only had white clients the other
day, but then you gave me advice like you were there for an
interview.”

“I’m busy, that’s all.”

“Or you realized Daddy might find out you’re
dressing a black man and—”

“I have black clients.”

“Let me guess, some of your best
friends.”

“Wow, you went there,” Dani growled with her
arms crossed. “How about tucking the race card away in your back
pocket and save it for a real situation. I’m busy… I have a
life.”

“Busy, with massages and…you only work a few
days a week. What else do you do?”

“Excuse me,” her therapist said as she came
in the room. “I really need to start Danika’s session.”

Jerome looked at Dani, who tried to not get
lost in his coffee colored eyes.

“Fine,” Dani caved more to remove the smell
of testosterone sending her hormones into overdrive. “I’ll send the
contracts to Randall and we’ll have an initial assessment.”

“Don’t do me any favors.” He left and Dani
sat back on the massage table. What the hell?

After the least relaxing massage in her life,
Dani yanked on her clothes as if they had somehow mistreated her.
While Dani drank from a custom water bottle for the salon, she
wandered through the back hallways with the pan flute music above
irritating her more. The need for pounding dance music burned in
her.

Damn Jerome Speed and his chocolate eyes and
body. He opened the door to his room causing Dani to jump back.
He’d just pulled his shirt over his head and her eyes caught sight
of the last row of what she assumed was a six pack…
mmm maybe
eight
.

The combination made her jump then snap to.
What if he thought it was because he was black that she jumped and
not from the unexpected noise?

“I don’t have any issues with you being
black,” she stated plainly as she crossed her arms. “Not everything
is a race issue.”

Jerome ran his hand over his face, then took
his own bottle of water from his masseuse who looked at both of
them and headed for the hills. With droopy eyes, Jerome turned and
walked toward reception.

“I’m talking to you,” she spat.

“You want a cookie,” he grumbled. “An Oreo or
an un-oh the ones that are white cookies with a chocolate
filling.”

“You ruined my night off. Instead of a
relaxing massage, I spent the whole time arguing with you in my
head.”

“And the best you could come up with was ‘I
don’t have an issue with black people?’” he mocked in a high
voice.

She followed him to his steel gray
Expedition. A quick beep flashed his lights.

“No, but you—surprised me.”

“Did I?” he asked as he slid on the black
leather seat. “I’m sorry, how exactly should I have acted? Do you
have a script I could follow?”

Dani was more flustered than before as she
reached for words only to find none. The way the lights haloed him,
his jawline shimmered with every muscle movement. Her breath caught
as she watched him bring the bottle of water to his lips and
surround the top. When their eyes locked, her body warmed.

Jerome arched his eyebrow and smiled around
the bottle before setting it down.

“What were you going to do after this?” he
asked and Dani worked to unthaw her brain. “You did have a plan,
didn’t you? You seem to plan out every minute of your life.”

“Not true.”

“Then hop in, I need food.”

“In your car?”

“This isn’t my car,” he said with all
seriousness.

“Who’s is it?”

“I don’t know, the door was open. I was about
to hotwire it and implicate you in grand theft. You know how us
black folk do.”

“I saw you unlock the door.”

“You saw the door unlocking.”

Dani replayed the moment then shook it
off.

“Where were my hands?” The lips formed the
words and his bright red tongue flicked against his teeth and her
knees weakened. Working for Jerome Speed was not an option. “Get
in,” he ordered and she obliged as if it were a privilege and not
an order. “You hungry?”

“Famished.”

“Where were you going to eat?”

Dani blushed as she thought of her favorite
hot dog vendor who stayed open late. She intertwined her fingers
and looked down. She didn’t like second guessing herself. That was
the last person she’d ever been.

“Go to Fairbanks and East Chicago.”

“Alright.” He turned left and up Michigan
Avenue. When he reached the corner, Dani hopped out.

“How hungry are you?” she asked.

“Very,” he replied.

“Circle the block.”

Rome scanned the street and gave her a
worried look.

“I can’t just dump you on a corner.”

“You’re not. You’ll be back. Now go.”

“Hey, Dani,” Tom the vendor smiled. “The
usual?”

“Times six and give me a couple of
waters.”

“You know these will negate your
workout.”

“Not all for me, Tom, but thanks.”

She shared a few more pleasantries as he
loaded up the hot dogs, Chicago style with pickles, tomato, onion,
and mustard. She balanced the dogs in her hands as Jerome pulled
up. Climbing in the car, she settled her dinner and blew a kiss to
Tom before turning to Jerome.

“Now how about hitting the beach.”

“The beach? It’s late.”

“Are you saying you can’t protect me?” Dani
asked with a slight challenge to her timbre.

“I’m saying I didn’t bring my gun to the
massage.”

“You have a gun?”

“It’s legal.”