Sheryl Lister - Still Loving You

“I think I might be done when my contract is up,” Marcus said, lying on the bench and starting his repetitions. “This body is getting too old for all those hits.”

Omar nodded his head in agreement. “No lie.”

Malcolm chuckled. “I hear you. Sometimes I feel like I’m going on sixty instead of thirty.” While both Marcus and Omar started at the wide receiver position, Malcolm was the team’s running back, and the punishment his body took week after week could be grueling. “My contract is up at the end of the season, and my agent is trying to get me to go for four more. I’m drawing the line at two, if that.”

Marcus pushed the bar up and grunted. “You’ll be what? Thirty?”

“Thirty-two by then.” When he retired, he planned to join his brother Khalil’s business. Maximum Burn Fitness Center had two locations that were currently doing well. They had discussed opening a third one within the next two years if the centers continued to run successfully. Though Malcolm had never imagined doing anything other than football, he was realistic enough to know he wouldn’t be able to play forever. His family owned a home-safety company that manufactured everything from bath rails and specialized mattresses to in-home alert systems that let a person know if a door had been left open or a stove left on and detected human movement and sent the information to a smartphone. But the idea of wearing a suit and sitting behind a desk for the rest of his life like his brother Brandon and sister Siobhan held no appeal. Instead, he’d followed in Khalil’s footsteps and earned a degree in kinesiology, which would give him options other than a desk.

Omar did a final set and moved to another machine. “You know I’m done when my contract is up. School is kicking my butt.” He was halfway through his doctoral study program in clinical psychology and planned to join the staff of the veterans’ mental health center he had cofounded. “What about you, Dupree? What are your plans?”

“Most likely physical therapy, since that’s what my degree is in. I haven’t decided whether I want to jump into academia or work in the field.” He had completed his clinical doctorate in physical therapy two years ago.

They moved from machine to machine, perfectly executing the movements while continuing the conversation about their postfootball plans.

As they finished, another player approached. “Hey, you guys might want to hurry up and get to the auditorium. I heard the new nutritionist is a woman and she’s fine! I’ll be sitting front and center. Gotta get my eating program together.” He hurried off.

Malcolm, Omar and Marcus shook their heads. The previous nutritionist had been fired at the end of last season when management got wind of him fudging the numbers on players who were in danger of losing their starting positions because they were overweight. Two players had been released during the controversy as well.

By the time they showered and made it to the auditorium, the room was abuzz with speculation.

“I’m so glad to be out of the dating game,” Omar said with a chuckle. He and Malcolm’s twin sister, Morgan, had married two years ago. “But you two...”

Marcus shook his head. “Nah, bro. I’m good.”

“Me, too.” Malcolm dated when it suited him and planned to remain a bachelor for life. He’d been down the road of heartbreak and would not do it again.

Once the head coach entered, the talk died down to a murmur as everyone slid into the leather theater-style seats.

“I want to thank you all for taking time out of your busy schedules to come in.” His statement was met with laughter. He followed up with some general announcements, and then said, “We want to take a moment to honor Joe Marshall. He’s been with the organization for twenty-five years and we’re sad to see him retire, but he’ll always be family. We wish you and Nancy all the best.” Applause, whistles and shouts of approval sounded throughout the room.

Joe stood, nodded and waved. Joe’s wife, Nancy, was battling breast cancer, and the special teams coach wanted to be there for her full-time.

“The next thing is we have a new dietitian on board. Please welcome Lauren Emerson.”

Malcolm didn’t hear the rest of the introduction. He struggled to draw in a breath, and his heart beat so loud in his ears it drowned out every other sound. He closed his eyes, hoping there was some mistake, but when he opened them again, she still stood at the front of the room.

Lauren moved to the center and shared some details about herself—background, previous employment and experience working with athletes.

Many of the younger players seemed to be spellbound by her presence. Malcolm heard Marcus whisper, “I think there’s going to be more than a few guys camped outside her office.”

Omar chuckled.

Malcolm said nothing. Her honey-brown face was as beautiful as he remembered, her smile still bright enough to light up a room and her curves sexy enough to stop traffic. Nothing had changed. Including his feelings. He’d never wanted to see her again.

Chapter 2

Lauren stared out at the room full of football players, her nerves a jumbled mess. Some sent flirtatious winks her way, while others’ gazes held skepticism. But one pair of piercing light brown eyes bored through her. She didn’t need a PhD to know that Malcolm wasn’t happy about seeing her.

She ignored him for the moment and smiled. “Thank you for the welcome. I’m looking forward to working with all of you. I previously worked as a nutritionist and dietitian at a hospital in Phoenix and as a consultant with Arizona State’s athletic department. I’ll be working closely with you and the coaches. We’ll schedule appointments with each of you to establish baselines, set goals and individual programs, as needed. Are there any questions?”

“Are you going to cook, too?” a player called out.

“No, but I’ll be consulting with the staff chef.”

Another player asked, “Are you married?”

Lauren laughed. “No.” The question had nothing to do with her credentials, but she figured the more they knew about her, hopefully, the more they’d come to trust her. She was under no illusions that the job would be easy, but she planned to be the best nutritionist the team had ever had. Lauren answered a few more questions then stood to the side as the general manager spoke. She surveyed the large meeting room that looked more like a movie theater, with its leather seats and a huge video screen that covered the front wall. The owners had spared no expense.

Her gaze shifted to Malcolm, who sat off to one side. His expression hadn’t changed—it held about as much warmth as a blizzard. She discreetly studied the man she had intended to marry. The handsome face that had haunted her dreams so many nights had matured into one that she was sure had women drooling wherever he went and gave new meaning to good-looking. His athletic body looked even more toned, and the muscles of his chest and upper arms bunched with every movement. An image of her running her hands over his smooth, hard frame rose unbidden in her mind. She quickly dismissed it. With the way he kept frowning her way, she would be lucky if he even said hello, let alone came in for a scheduled appointment. The general manager’s voice filtered through her thoughts.

“Before we end, I’d like to congratulate Malcolm Gray on being named one of the city’s humanitarians of the year. He and his brothers and sisters will be honored for their work with the homeless community.” Deafening applause broke out. Once it faded, he gave the date, time and place of the gala. “I’d like as many of us as possible to show our support.” The meeting ended shortly after.

Lauren had no idea Malcolm’s family held such prominent roles in the community. She turned and was immediately surrounded by several football players, who introduced themselves and cited all the reasons why they should have the first appointment. Though the big men towered over her like mountains, she caught a glimpse of Malcolm leaving out of a side door. Their eyes locked briefly, his so cold she shivered. Then he pivoted and strode out of the room without a backward glance.