Then Came You ; Written with Love

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Then Came You ; Written with Love Page 24

by Kianna Alexander


  Gregor sighed. “It makes you question being in a monogamous relationship at all.”

  Those words caused Zahra to shimmy her body free so that she could face him. “Really?”

  “Don’t tell me you’ve never considered that,” he said.

  “No. There is something breathtakingly beautiful about two people truly committed to one another. Loving each other unconditionally. Voluntarily devoting their lives to each other. Building a life together. Something divine and soothing and amazing in having that one special person to protect, love, cherish, respect you. At all costs.” She paused a moment. “I’ve never had that, but I do believe it exists. And while I may have been dumped on by love, I’m still not against the sanctity of monogamy, because my parents show me every day that it’s possible.”

  Gregor eyed her for a moment before saying, “Damn.”

  Zahra laughed. “Too much?”

  He pushed a wet strand of hair from her forehead with the tip of his index finger. “I wouldn’t have expected anything less from you.”

  Gregor pulled her into his arms, and she rested her head against his chest. The thump of his heartbeat—strong, powerful—had become a soothing lullaby to her. Too bad she would have to get used to falling asleep without it.

  Chapter 11

  Gregor smiled at the familiar baritone voice behind him. Hogan Reed. Dr. Reed, as most people addressed him. Not Gregor. To him, the man with a strong resemblance to Richard Roundtree was affectionately known as “Old School.” Gregor stood and greeted him with an embrace reserved for close friends.

  Parting, Dr. Reed surveyed their secluded surroundings, a park several miles out of town. “What’s up with this clandestine location? And why couldn’t we have met in my office as usual?” He tightened the trench-style coat around him. “It’s a little nippy out here.”

  “A few bloodsuckers are still hounding me. I couldn’t take the chance of them following me to your office,” Gregor said in regard to the gossip tabloids.

  He thought by now that he would have been old news. At least social media had moved on to the next scandal—an actress headed to rehab for the fourth time.

  Dr. Reed eased down onto the wrought-iron-and-wood bench. “I wish black men would squash the stigma associated with therapy. We’d live longer, have more fathers in the home, more wealth in the family, more peace in our communities.” He tossed his hand up. “But hey, what do I know?”

  Gregor didn’t see that happening anytime soon. He, himself, had only ended up in therapy by accident. One day he’d struck up a conversation in his favorite coffee shop with an older brother reading Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison.

  The serious man had been so easy to talk to that Gregor had revealed a good portion of his life story to a complete stranger. When they said their goodbyes, he’d given Gregor his card. Gregor had been shocked to learn that the man he’d spent close to four hours talking to had been a psychologist.

  Instantly, Gregor had gone on the defensive, stating he didn’t need a shrink. Dr. Reed had simply said: Everyone needs someone to talk to. Turned out, he’d been right. Over the years, they’d grown close, with Dr. Reed being more like a father figure than his unconventional therapist. They talked real, open and personal to each other.

  “You know a lot,” Gregor said. “But for the record, this isn’t therapy. We’re just two old friends chatting.”

  “How you holding up, young’un?”

  Gregor shrugged. “I’m holding. Signed another endorsement deal. The company whose apparel I was wearing when I wrecked. How ironic is that? Ten mil.” For some reason, the money aspect didn’t bring him the usual joy.

  “Congratulations. And the other stuff?”

  Gregor sighed. “I’m used to being a target. This won’t break me. I’m built to last.” Had he just quoted what Zahra had said to him?

  Dr. Reed clapped him on the shoulder. “Damn straight. How was the lake?”

  A lazy smile curled Gregor’s lips. “Good. Rejuvenating. I met someone.”

  He thought about the morning he’d left Lake Lamont; Zahra had kissed him goodbye like he was heading off to war. In a way, he had been. Leaving her had been like fighting a battle.

  “Weren’t you on a secluded island? Is she a mermaid? She must be mystical to have snagged your attention. Last time we talked, I recall you saying to hell with women, relationships and love.”

  The two men shared a laugh.

  “I thought I was, but this woman...” Gregor filled Dr. Reed in on everything, including the no-strings arrangement he and Zahra had shared.

  “No strings attached can be a tricky thing,” Dr. Reed said.

  Gregor gave a humorless laugh. “You’re telling me.” He fell back against the bench. “I can’t stop thinking about her, but I know I should. Somehow, she got to me.”

  Gregor wanted to pretend he’d never met Zahra, pretend they’d never made love, pretend she hadn’t gotten to him. He’d wanted to believe he could pretend they’d never met. But he was wise enough to know it wouldn’t be that simple. Nothing in his life ever was or ever had been. Not only did he want to pretend all of those things, he also needed to. There was no room for romance in his life. He didn’t need the distraction or the risk.

  It had been a week since he’d left Lake Lamont, but he’d thought about Zahra every single day. How ridiculous was that? He barely—he was about to say he barely knew her, but to be honest, it felt as if he’d known her a lifetime. Like he was more familiar with her than some of the guys on the team he’d known for years. How was that possible?

  “Tell me about her,” Dr. Reed said.

  Gregor gave a relaxed smile as an image of Zahra filled his thoughts. “She has a fire inside her, that’s for sure. She’s bold, honest, outspoken. Beautiful. This woman is drop-dead gorgeous. Inside and out. Her heart’s the size of the sun.”

  “Sounds like an amazing woman.”

  The image of her standing on the dock waving goodbye to him as the boat sailed away played in his head. They’d watched one another until the boat disappeared around the bend, leaving him with nothing but memories.

  “She is. Can you believe she jumped into raging waters just to rescue a dog? A dog,” he said as if he still couldn’t believe she’d done it, despite being right there. “She didn’t care about messing up her hair, ruining her nails or even dying. All that mattered was saving Waterspout.” He faced Dr. Reed. “That’s what she named her, Waterspout. Turned out her name was actually Brownie.”

  “I like Waterspout better,” Dr. Reed said.

  “So did she.”

  Things were quiet between them for a moment.

  “She’s different from any woman I’ve ever known,” Gregor said, breaking the silence.

  “Clearly. In three years, I’ve never once heard you speak so passionately about a woman. Not even your ex. Now the question is, what are you going to do about it?”

  “Nothing. Zahra made it clear she wasn’t looking for a commitment. Honestly, I’m not sure I am either.”

  Dr. Reed barked a laugh. “Young’un, it seems to me you’re already committed or at the very least dedicated to the possibility of what could be. You’re scared.”

  “Pssh. I’m not—” Gregor paused at the sight of Dr. Reed’s don’t-even-try-to-play-me expression. “Maybe I am. Other than you, I’ve never truly been able to open up to anyone. She has the ability to short-circuit my defenses, exposing me. What if she doesn’t like what she sees?”

  “Then she’s not the one for you. Love doesn’t come with stipulations. I’ll love you if you have no flaws. Or, I’ll love you if you never make mistakes. That’s dumb love. True love is smart. It knows no one is perfect. Yet, it grows and blooms anyway.”

  Gregor nodded.

  “You’ve been through a lot, young brother. Known enough heartache for two lifetimes. Ye
t, you haven’t let it break you. If this woman means something to you, don’t let her get away. Maybe she will tell you to get lost and never contact her again, or maybe you mean something to her, too. Don’t you think you owe it to yourself to find out?”

  Maybe.

  This wasn’t like him, denying himself something he wanted. And he damn sure wanted Zahra. In every way. He yearned for her. Those sweet kisses. That warm touch. Her delicious scent. The feel of her in his arms. The idea of any other man enjoying her in the ways he had ripped at his insides and angered him. What in the hell had this woman done to him?

  Actually, the question should have been, what in the hell had he done to himself? He was fully to blame for this. After the first time making love to Zahra, he should have ended it there. Being inside her had felt too damn good and too damn right. He didn’t want to admit it, but she’d left her mark on him.

  Chapter 12

  Zahra walked arm in arm with her sister at the Spirit and Mindfulness Expo. They’d made the four-hour drive from Charlotte to Raleigh to attend the popular event. The crystals, gems, stones, palm readers and such were right up Ava’s alley. Zahra, however, didn’t much believe in any of it.

  But coming meant she got to spend time with Ava. Plus, she needed a distraction to take her mind off Gregor. It had been a little over two weeks since they’d parted ways, and every single day had been a reminder that she’d allowed fear to win. She hadn’t wanted it to be goodbye, but she’d been too afraid to risk her heart again. Too afraid to believe in fate and the possibility that it had brought them both to Lake Lamont at the same time for a reason.

  The pressing question was, what had been fate’s goal? To help them loosen the grip of the past they both were clearly chained to? To remind them that life went on after heartbreak? To give them hope? What? Maybe this hadn’t been the workings of fate at all, but instead a mere coincidence. Her gut told her differently.

  Gregor had done something to her. To her mind. To her body. To her spirit. Something only he could undo, which meant she was destined to remain in a perpetual state of miserableness.

  “Something’s different about you, Zah.”

  Ava’s words pulled Zahra from her thoughts. “What?”

  “I don’t know. Ever since you returned from Lake Lamont you’ve had this amazing glow.”

  Zahra hadn’t gotten around to telling Ava about the time she’d spent with Gregor—or the fact that he’d been at Lake Lamont at all. Mainly because she knew exactly what would happen. Ava would make a mere flicker into a four-alarm blaze. She was trying to forget Gregor, not relive him over and over again with her sister.

  “This is the glimmer of happiness produced by finishing my tenth novel,” she said.

  “Is it?”

  Accusation dripped heavy in Ava’s tone. This was what happened when your sister was also your best friend and could read you like the Sunday newspaper.

  “Yes, it is,” Zahra said, hoping to derail the topic.

  “Okay,” was all Ava said, then set her gaze straight ahead.

  Ugh. She hated when her sister did that. Made her feel guilty without actually accusing her of a crime. Zahra changed the subject before Ava had her singing like a canary. “Did I tell you how much I love your hair? That fiery copper color looks amazing on you. So does the short cut.”

  Ava had made the big chop and gone natural a little over a year ago. Zahra had chickened out, not believing at the time that she had the dedication it took to maintain natural hair. But looking at how healthy and beautiful—not to mention curly—her sister’s hair was had her reconsidering a chop of her own. She needed a change.

  “Yes, you have told me. And your telling me again means you’re deflecting. What are you hiding, big sis?”

  Zahra debated for a moment whether or not to tell Ava but decided to. This was definitely BFF territory. But the confession came with a condition. “Don’t blow what I’m about to tell you out of proportion, Ava. It happened. I don’t regret it. It’s done.”

  Ava stopped abruptly. “Oh. My. God. Zah, please don’t tell me you took Braswell’s trifling ass back.”

  “No. Hell, no. Why would you even think I’d do something so stupid?”

  Ava blew a sigh of relief. “Good. That slick-talking serpent doesn’t deserve you.” She folded her arms across her chest. “So, who did you sleep with?”

  Zahra’s eyes widened. “Shh. You don’t have to let the entire building know.” Lowering her voice even more, she said, “And how do you know I slept with someone?”

  “Call me psychic. Now I get why you’ve been zoning in and out. You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?”

  When was she not thinking about him? They started to walk again. “I can’t purge him from my system, which is absolutely insane. We only spent a week and a half together. Why is he in my every thought?” Zahra sighed her frustration.

  “Wait. Back up. Who is him and...spent a week and a half together, where?”

  Zahra bit at her lip, tasting the fruity lip gloss she wore. Getting her thoughts together, she spent the next several minutes telling Ava about Gregor and how he’d unexpectedly been at the lake house. About saving Waterspout—aka Brownie—their crossed pasts and their no-strings arrangement.

  As feared, Ava ignited a wildfire. “You can’t get him out of your head because he’s a part of you and you’re a part of him.”

  “No one’s a part of anyone, Ava. We just slept together, damn.”

  “Once?”

  “Once...ish. Several times. Okay, a lot. A whole lot.”

  Ava squealed. “You do know what this means, right? You absorbed each other every time you were intimate. You two are linked now. That’s why you can’t stop thinking about him.”

  One thing Zahra could say about her sister was that the woman certainly knew how to take things to the extreme. “I’m not looking to be linked to anyone,” Zahra said. “Braswell and I swapped energies, but I never thought about him like this. Not even after we broke up.”

  Ava’s face contorted into a ball of distress. “That was tainted energy, because he had a dark, ugly soul.”

  It was no secret Ava hadn’t liked Braswell from the moment Zahra had brought him home to meet the family. Nor had her mother, whom he’d offended by hinting at a woman’s place being in the kitchen. And definitely not her father, whom Braswell had disrespected by assuming he could call her father—his elder—by his first name without an invitation to do so.

  “Is Gregor anything like what we see on television and on social media?”

  Zahra compared the different versions of Gregor in her head. “He’s nothing like the media portrays him. Heck, he’s nothing like he portrays himself. He’s gentle, kind, amazingly humble.” And incredible in bed, but she kept that to herself. “I wanted to believe that I liked having him around because I felt sorry for him. Truthfully, I liked having him around because I like him.” She tossed her head back in a groan. “God, I shouldn’t like him, but I do.”

  “Why is liking him a problem?” Ava asked with genuine concern in her tone.

  Zahra stopped walking again. “Why is it a problem? Are you kidding me? I’m fresh out of a bad relationship. I was cheated on. Gregor’s an athlete. And not just any athlete. One of the most celebrated quarterbacks in history, which makes him a target for thirsty women. It would never work between us.”

  “Excuses, excuses, excuses. That’s all I’m hearing. Everyone has had at least one or two bad relationships, Zah. Everyone has been cheated on. And news flash, any man—or woman, for that matter—with money is a target, not just athletes and not just Gregor Carter.”

  Ava made valid points, but Zahra wasn’t looking to be talked into Gregor; she needed to be talked out of him.

  “There’s something there, Zah. I’ve never seen you this enthralled with a man. Not even slimy Braswell.”
>
  “Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter. We both agreed that our time together wouldn’t extend beyond Lake Lamont. End of story.”

  “What is it you always say about love stories? That they don’t end until there’s a happily-ever-after, right?”

  “Yeah, something like that,” Zahra said.

  “You haven’t had your happily-ever-after, big sis, which means your love story isn’t complete. You deserve a happy ending.”

  Zahra would agree.

  “You know what I’m thinking?” Ava said.

  Zahra laughed. “Usually not.”

  “We should have your palm read.”

  Great. Just what Zahra needed—someone predicting she was destined to spend her life alone. “I don’t—”

  Before she could finish her protest, Ava dragged her toward one of the booths inside the arena. A middle-aged woman with long, flowing chestnut-brown hair partially covered with a red-and-gold scarf motioned them in. Lady Castilla, the table banner read.

  Zahra resisted when Ava pushed her forward.

  “Don’t be shy,” the exotic-looking woman said. “Sit. I will not bite.”

  Lady Castilla spoke with an accent Zahra couldn’t quite place—not that she was a linguistics expert. Was it authentic or simply part of the gimmick?

  With reluctance, Zahra eased down into the velvet-covered, navy blue chair. The fancy piece seemed out of place among the other generic furniture—a red cloth-covered table, several folding chairs, and a smaller rustic-looking table holding flyers and business cards.

  “I am Lady Castilla. What is your name?” she asked.

  Shouldn’t she have known it already? “Zahra. And this is my sister, Ava.”

  “Two beautiful names for two beautiful ladies. Nice to meet you both.” Lady Castilla stretched her arms out. “Your hands, Zahra.”

  She slid them palms up toward her.

  “Which is your dominant hand?” she asked.

  “My right.”

  Lady Castilla studied her right palm. “You are very successful in your career. You’re a creative.” She glanced up. “What do you do?”

 

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