Release Me
Page 25
“Excuse me!”
“Do you really think you’re not getting pleasure from all your altruistic work?”
She sat up straighter, fire in her eyes. “The work I do actually does some good for society. All you do is provide a place for people to get drunk, then defend them in court when they crash their cars into someone.”
Tamping down his irritation became the hardest thing in the world. Jonathan took a second to find his center of control before speaking. “You’ve known of my existence for what, two…three weeks? Yet you’ve already got me all figured out.”
She plastered him with one of those superior looks.
Why should he even bother? She’d already made up her mind about him. He should just cut his losses and move the hell on.
But her assumptions were completely wrong, and he refused to just sit back while she continued to think the worst of him.
“What would you say if I told you one of the first things I did when I came to New Orleans was sign up for the Big Brother’s program? And,” he cut her off when she started to speak, “what if I told you that a percentage of the profit made on Ladies’ Night at the Hard Court goes to a battered women’s shelter my sister runs back in D.C.? And what if I told you that twenty percent of my law practice’s caseload is pro bono? You’re not the only one who fights for a cause, Ivana.”
Some of that hauteur had taken a backseat to surprise. She really did have a low opinion of him. But, apparently, his justification, which he was pissed he had to provide in the first place, still was not enough for her.
After a moment, the aloofness returned and she said, “And I’m supposed to believe that?”
Jonathan hit the table with his fist. “I give up. You’re going to believe only what you want to believe, no matter what I say. But let me clue you in to something, Ivana. All work and no play—even if you love the work—makes for an unfulfilled life. When you realize there’s more to living than fighting for ‘the cause’, give me a call.”
He pushed away from the table and left her sitting in the middle of the soup kitchen.
***
Toby walked through the gate of the newly erected chain-link fence that surrounded the playground. The plastic equipment was new, its bright reds, yellows, blues and greens much different than the old metal swings, monkey bars and merry-go-rounds that were here when he and Sienna were in elementary school.
“Looks like an entirely different place, huh?” Sienna said, reading his thoughts.
“I guess those lawsuits Roberta Taylor’s mother filed every time she got a scratch on that old playground equipment had more of an impact than I first thought,” Toby replied.
They walked past a row of seesaws and a giant sandbox with a huge plastic green worm in the center, on their way to the basketball courts at the far end of the playground.
After the day they’d both had, Sienna had suggested they do something to unwind. Aria’s radio interview had basically been a continuation of her interview on Katie LeBlanc’s television show earlier that morning. The radio disc jockey had seen the show, and even though Toby had stipulated before they went on the air that there would be no overly personal questions; the host had done just enough to toe the line without actually crossing it. Aria had been better prepared to skirt around the answers than she had been earlier this morning, but still, the ripples from the LeBlanc debacle were still being felt.
And it reflected in Aria’s performance earlier tonight. She’d been stiff, and the performance lackluster compared to the two previous nights.
Toby was trying not to worry too much. Sienna had damage control in hand. But Toby wasn’t so sure he was ready for her method of unwinding. He could have come up with something just as physical and a lot more to his liking than playing a game of basketball.
“Finish telling me what happened at the shindig you went to today,” he said.
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t want to even think about it, let alone talk about it. I’m sure my mother will disown me. She’s probably drawing up papers right now to have me permanently kicked out of the Culpepper family.”
“Did you really tell them you’re a lesbian?”
“No, I just threatened my mother I would. She has a strong heart, because I was sure it would send her into cardiac arrest.”
Toby caught her by the arm and pulled her close. “Well, at least I know you’re not gay.” He captured her open lips and quickly sucked her tongue into his mouth.
When he finally let her go, Sienna stared up at him, an awed look on her face. “I can’t believe I’m kissing you this way,” she whispered, the awe making its way to her voice.
“Does it still seem strange to you?” Toby asked.
She slowly shook her head, as if running the idea through her mind. “Not so much anymore. You?”
“Not so much,” he mimicked, unable to help the smile that drew across his lips. “I’ve got a question? Which do you think Sylvia would rather, that you were a lesbian, or that you’re dating me?”
Sienna’s crack of laughter echoed across the empty playground. “I’m not sure. Maybe I should just tell her the truth next time.”
“You might just get that heart attack out of her after all.”
They walked side by side past swing sets, a merry-go-round, and hopscotches painted on the spongy playground floor. “Is the basketball court made of this material?” Toby asked.
“No, it’s real asphalt,” Sienna said. “It’s on the side designated for the junior high students.”
Moments later they arrived at the basketball and tennis courts. If he’d had rackets in his trunk, Toby would have suggested they play a little tennis instead.
What in the hell made him agree to play basketball after all this time? He’d tried over the years. He’d even managed to make it to an actual court once when Jonathan had dared him. But because God liked him so much, the sky had opened up with a huge rain shower just as Jonathan had passed the ball.
Toby looked up. This was probably the clearest night New Orleans had seen since he’d been back home. Guess God thought he’d had enough reprieves.
“What’s the matter, Toby?” Sienna asked, balancing the basketball on her hip. She was dressed in loose-fitting nylon shorts and a white T-shirt with a hot pink Nike Swish.
“Nothing,” Toby lied, waiting for lightening to strike despite the clear skies.
“You’re frowning.”
“Am I?”
Sienna placed the ball on the asphalt and closed the distance between them. She took both of his hands in hers and swung them from side to side.
“When I suggested basketball, I had a feeling it had been a while since you’d played. Was I right?”
He swallowed hard, and then admitted, “The Friday before the accident.”
The swinging stopped.
For a moment that seemed to last a lifetime, she stood there staring at him as if he were a stranger.
“Why?” she finally asked.
If he knew the answer to that question, he could give meaning to the reason of the universe. Then again, Toby had known all along why he hadn’t held a basketball in all these years; he just wasn’t ready to say it aloud.
In some ways, he missed basketball more than anything in the world. He ached to return to the court and experience the thrill of the game. Yet other days, the thought of playing again scared the crap out of him.
Answering her question, he shrugged. “I haven’t had the desire.” It was partially true. Who desired to be scared out of their minds, other than crazy thrill seekers who bungee jumped, or skydived? He wasn’t about to leap head first out of an airplane anytime soon, either.
“Here’s the thing,” Sienna said, letting go of one of his hands and hooking his arm in the crook of her elbow. “That answer would probably fly with just about anybody, but you need to remember who you’re talking to. You not having the desire to play basketball is like my mom not having the desire to criticize me. What’s the real re
ason, Toby?”
Toby tried to stave off the irritation, but he could feel it building. Sienna was not the first person to try to get him to “talk it out.” It had not worked with Alex, Eli, Jonathan, or even his mother. It wasn’t going to work this time either. He didn’t want to ruin their night by stopping her cold, but she wasn’t giving him a choice.
She took it out of his hands by laying out the truth.
“You’re scared,” she said simply.
Denying it would be fruitless, so Toby decided to say nothing at all.
“You have every right to be,” Sienna continued. “Basketball represents a dark part of your past.”
“When did your Marketing degree turn into a Ph.D. in Counseling?” He didn’t mean for his voice to have that edge, but damn, she was asking more of him than he was willing to give.
“It doesn’t take a degree to understand human emotion, Toby.”
Don’t roll your eyes, he told himself, but they rolled anyway. Pop-psychoanalysis had that affect on him.
“So, do you think if I break past this barrier and actually play a game of basketball my entire life will be one big party?”
“No,” Sienna said, frustration making the word clip. “I was thinking if you played a game of basketball you’d remember the game for what it was before college scholarships, sports agents, and skanky cheerleaders shaking their butts in your face.”
Despite his annoyance, Toby couldn’t help his chuckle. “When did you start feeling this way about the cheerleaders?” he asked.
“Seventh-grade,” she answered. “Now back to the point I was trying to make. It’s just a game, Toby. I know you inadvertently blame basketball for much of the pain you’ve experienced since the accident, but you need to remember the good times, too.” She stretched her hands out and turned in a slow circle. “This is where we had the most fun of our lives, right on these courts. Well,” she looked at the coal black asphalt underneath them. “On the same grounds, at least. They’ve spruced up the actual court.”
A mini tug-of-war played out in his brain as Toby debated whether he was ready to take such a huge step? But why was it such a big deal? What’d he think, that an SUV would come careering through the fence and knock the rest of his vertebrae out of place?
Sienna was right. For most of his life, basketball had been everything to him, and not because of the glitz and glamour that came with an NBA career. He loved the game because it was fun. Period.
Toby reached over, grabbed the ball, and did a Harlem Globetrotter-caliber finger spin. “So, first to ten wins?”
Whatever agony he would experience as a result of playing basketball after all these years would be worth it just for the chance to see the smile that lit up Sienna’s face.
“You haven’t played in a while,” she smiled. “You sure you don’t want to stop at five?”
“I think I can hang,” Toby replied. “After all, you’re a girl. That gives me a slight advantage.”
Sienna punched him on the arm. “I would tell you to kiss my ass, but you’d probably take it literally.”
“Most definitely,” Toby said, leaning over and planting a quick kiss right below her ear. “Come on. Let’s see if I’ve still got it.”
“I’ll take it easy on you since you’re so out of practice.”
“Don’t bother, baby. When I win, I want to know that I’ve earned my prize fair and square.”
“What prize?” Sienna asked.
He let his eyes roam up and down her body and grinned at her instant blush. “As much as you’re willing to give me.”
Toby in-bounded the ball to her and Sienna made a quick pass behind her back as she darted to the goal, laying the ball in.
“I see you’ve kept up your game.”
“Not really. The only people I can get to play with me are Ivana and Lelo. And they do play like girls.” She laughed. “You don’t have anything to worry about. That was my best move. I just figured I’d come out with all guns blazing and rattle you a bit.”
Toby soon discovered Sienna had a lot more moves where that one had come from. The only thing she hadn’t managed to do was dunk on his head.
“Okay, play time is over,” he said after she got away with an easy lay-up. Back in the day, he could have blocked that shot with his eyes closed.
“You think just because you’re ready to get serious that the game’s gonna change?” Sienna asked, teasingly holding the ball just out of his reach. She crooked two fingers. “Bring it on, baby.”
Toby dove for the ball, stealing it away. He quickly put it through the hoop and followed with another three shots to Sienna’s one.
God, this felt good. Watching his perfectly executed jump shot arcing to the hoop sent a rush of satisfaction coursing through his blood. It felt natural to palm the ball, to dribble it back and forth between his legs.
“Where’s all that talk?” Toby held his hand to his ear. “I don’t hear you saying much.”
“Shut up,” Sienna said after an unsuccessful steal attempt.
Toby’s head fell back with a crack of laughter. Damn, he’d missed this. Nothing had ever set his blood to pumping like a physically exerting pick-up game.
And their game was definitely a physical one.
The bump and grind of their bodies as they each jockeyed for position was as erotic as anything Toby had experienced in the bedroom. Moist skin collided with moist skin. Lush breasts branded his chest. The stimulation from Sienna’s sweat-soaked body brushing against his left him hard and aching.
“I guess you don’t buy into the notion of sparing your girlfriend’s feelings by letting her win, do you?” she asked after Toby sunk another jump shot.
Toby shook his head. “You’d never accept a gimme win.”
“Yes, I would,” Sienna puffed. “God, it’s hot out here.” She made a T with her hands, “Timeout. I’ve got to take off this shirt.”
“Whoa, girl,” Toby said, halting her as she reached for the bottom of the T-shirt. “Leave the striptease for later.”
“I have a shirt on underneath this. And you can forget a striptease,” she finished, then pulled away from him and brought the T-shirt over her head.
Instant salivation started within his mouth. He’d run his hands over that toned stomach just last night, but damn if his imagination had dreamt up anything even close to the soft curves and silken skin displayed before him.
“Don’t tell me you’ve always looked like this under your shirt.”
“Like what?” Sienna asked, as if that delicately defined six-pack could be found on the average woman walking down the street.
“I just want to make sure you haven’t always been this fine, because if you have, Alex deserves the right to tell me “I told you so” to my face.”
“What are you talking about?”
He shook his head, chuckling at her obtuseness. “For years Alex has been telling me I should hook up with you. It’s true,” Toby assured her, when she gave him a look of disbelief. “But it’s always seemed too strange, you know? I mean, you’re you. Cee Cee. At that time, I couldn’t imagine the thought of us being together.”
Sienna plunked her hands on her hips. “I should kick your ass.”
“Why are you getting upset with me? I had to practically beg you to start dating. If I’d asked you back then, you would have laughed in my face.”
Before he knew what happened, the basketball crashed into his chest.
“Ow!”
“I wouldn’t have laughed in your face, you idiot! I would have asked what had taken you so long!” Sienna choked.
Wait, was she crying?
“Sienna.” Toby reached for her, but she pulled away.
“How blind can you be?” she asked. “I’ve spent most of my life loving you, Toby. Do you have any idea how hard it was to listen to you talk about all the girls you got with in high school? Some of the stuff you told me shouldn’t even be said in a locker room with just guys around.”
&nb
sp; “That’s the way we talked to each other back then.”
“Not we. You! I never had anything to say about boys I slept with back then because I had never slept with any boys. But there I was, listening to the one I was in love with talk about skeez after skeez. You probably don’t even remember their names.”
No. He didn’t. But that wasn’t important right now. He was way more interested in that other thing she’d said. She had been in love with him?
“Cee Cee.” He reached out for her again, and this time she allowed him to pull her into his arms. The blow from the basketball had been replaced by a different kind of pain, and it hurt a thousand times worse.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Toby whispered.
“Why did I have to?” her muffled reply came from where she rested her face against his chest. She tilted back a little. “You knew me so well, yet you never saw how I felt about you. Why is that, Toby?”
How was he supposed to answer that? He did know her. He knew her better than he knew just about anyone, but he had never suspected Sienna thought about him in an even remotely romantic way.
Even if he had known, would it have changed anything? Back then he would never have gone for a jock like Sienna. He’d preferred the pretty girls who dressed in tummy-baring shirts and skintight jeans. Those were the girls who guaranteed a little action at the end of the night. The Toby of years ago probably would have laughed in Sienna’s face if she had suggested anything romantic between the two of them. It’s a good thing he’d grown up, because that Toby was a fool for not seeing the woman hiding behind the tomboy she used to be.
“I’m sorry, baby.” He rubbed his hand up and down her back. “I never wanted to hurt you. You know that don’t you, Sienna?”
She rubbed her face against his chest, wiping her nose on his shirt.
“Now I feel stupid for blubbering like an idiot.”
“No, I’m the idiot,” Toby said.
She raised her head a smidgen. “No argument here.”