Just To Be with You. Sheryl ListerЧитать онлайн книгу.
way no one gets hurt.”
“I rest my case.” She moved again.
“Wait a minute.” He released a deep sigh. “I don’t consider myself some kind of playboy. I meet a woman, and if we hit it off, we’ll go out.”
“And sleep together.”
“Sometimes.”
“Then you walk away.”
He remained silent.
She folded her arms. “Okay. So you say you’re not a playboy. Then why do you always walk away? Why haven’t you been in a committed relationship?”
“It’s not that easy, and maybe I haven’t met the right woman.” He captured her mouth again. She pursed her lips tightly together, and he chuckled inwardly. He nipped at her lower lip and teased with tiny licks of his tongue. “Open up, baby.” He plunged into her mouth and caressed the side of her face. Terrence couldn’t get enough of kissing her. At length, he lifted his head.
“Terrence, I don’t think this is a good idea.” She rubbed her temples. “You’re a really nice guy, but I don’t want to be hurt again.”
“I don’t plan to hurt you.”
“Maybe not intentionally, but I can’t take that chance.”
He held her gaze intently, leaned down and kissed her once more, then led her back out.
They walked and talked awhile longer, and then he had to leave—reluctantly. Janae and Karen had a long drive ahead of them, and his band would be waiting for him on their private plane.
Standing outside her hotel room, Terrence let his gaze roam over her face, trying to commit everything about her to memory. “I’ve enjoyed spending the weekend with you, Janae.”
“Me, too.”
He heaved a deep sigh. “I’d better go. I know you and Karen need to get on the road, and the guys will be ready to fly out soon.” He stroked a finger down her cheek and placed a soft kiss on her lips. “Thank you for your company. I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Bye, Terrence.”
Terrence used every bit of his control to keep moving in the direction of the elevator. The more time he spent with her, the more he wanted to know about her. Being with Janae was so different from the women he usually encountered. Most were so enamored with the man called Monte and what they thought he could do for them that they tripped over themselves trying to get his attention. But not Janae; she wasn’t falling over herself to get to him—just the opposite. She seemed more interested in Terrence. The man who would rather spend a quiet evening snuggled in front of a fireplace talking or reading instead of hanging out at a club or some other party. In spite of his stance to remain emotionally detached, something about this woman fascinated him, and he couldn’t wait to see her again. He smiled. No, he wouldn’t send her an expensive gift, but he would visit. Soon.
Since the band members wanted to have a late lunch, Terrence didn’t leave San Francisco until after five in the evening. He had planned to be home earlier so he could spend time with his grandparents. He’d been away for almost three weeks, and as the only family he had left, he missed them tremendously. His father passed away when Terrence was eighteen, but his mother had walked out of their lives when he was only eight. The old anger that came with the memory surfaced, but he pushed it down, preferring to reminisce on his weekend. Reaching into his pocket, he took out his phone, then pulled up the picture of him and Janae. In her heels, her head barely came to his shoulder; without them, she only reached the middle of his chest. But her petite body was stacked with womanly curves—curves his hands itched to trace.
“Nice picture, Monte. Who is she?” Malik, the band’s bassist, asked over his shoulder.
“Her name is Janae,” Terrence answered without looking up.
“Oh, yeah. She’s the woman we met backstage. I’ve never known you to let someone come back after a show.”
Before Terrence could answer, Lisa, the drummer and only female musician in the band, spoke up. “Get out of Monte’s business, Malik. You’re just mad it’s not you.”
A couple more of the band members started asking questions, and Donovan interrupted. “Hey, Monte. Can you come back here for a moment? I need you to look at something.”
“What do you need me to do?” Terrence asked, taking a seat in the area sectioned off in the rear of the aircraft set up for business.
“Nothing. I wanted to give you a little space for privacy.”
“Thanks, man.”
After several minutes, Donovan spoke again. “You like her a lot, don’t you, T?”
He stared down at the phone in his hand with their picture still on the screen. “Yeah. I do.”
“She seems like a nice person. Do you plan to talk to her or see her again?”
“Yeah. I need to figure out how to see her before our concerts on the East Coast.”
A slow grin curved Donovan’s mouth. “Absolutely amazing. Janae has done what no other woman has, and without trying. Women always try coming on to you, some almost to the point of stalking, but you never even notice. What is it about her? I mean, you’ve come across countless beautiful women.”
“She’s... There’s just something about her.” Terrence shifted his gaze toward the window. “She gets to me,” he said, remembering. Even now, thinking about her made his heart rate kick up. He hoped she and Karen had made it home safely.
* * *
Janae breezed through the school office Monday morning and spoke to the secretary before checking her mailbox. She glanced at the papers, stuck them in her bag, then went to make copies. She had more than half an hour before the students arrived, giving her time to prepare the art activity that would accompany their lesson. Despite her determination to get back to reality, her mind kept straying to her time with Terrence. Contrary to his promise to call, she knew he probably wouldn’t, and decided the time they spent together would go into her book of memories, to be pulled out time and time again.
“Hey, girl.”
Her head popped up when Karen came through the classroom door. “Morning. You just getting here?”
“No. I’ve been here for about an hour. I have some testing to do today, so I needed to get a lesson plan ready for my parent helper who’s coming in.” She came around the table to see what Janae was drawing. “Foil?”
Janae smiled. “Yep. It’s a fun activity, and the best part is that they don’t even know they’re working on their fine motor control.” She had drawn a flower using a black permanent marker and would have the students use colored permanent markers to fill in the spaces. When they finished, not only would they have a beautiful picture, they would have practiced staying within the lines—something to help with the control needed for writing.
Karen took a seat across from her. “Hmm. Maybe I need to have you do all my art projects. I don’t know how you come up with all this stuff. So, did you talk to Terrence last night?”
“No. I’m sure he had a lot to do when he got back. I didn’t really expect to hear from him.”
“Do you think you’ll see him anytime soon?”
“Probably not, but we didn’t really discuss any of that, Miss Nosy.”
“Well, did you guys at least exchange phone numbers?” she asked with exasperation.
“Yes, we did.”
“Finally, something right.”
“Don’t you have to get to your class?”