Jezebel Koko Brown (best books to read non fiction txt) 📖

of boys,” Yvonne commented, somewhat leery of the menbarreling towards them, Robbie still held aloft their shoulders.Spotting her, he yelled for his teammates to stop and let him down.As if he were fine china, Robbie’s teammates set carefully himon his feet.

Walking toward her with aslow, yet confident swagger, Robbie gifted her with a dazzling whitesmile. Despite their charade, her heart did an unconscious pitterpatter.

So, this is what being gaydid to a man? Amazing how being in touch with one’s feminineside, could make a man seem inordinately more handsome. Yvonne, likeeveryone else she couldn’t take her eyes off him.

“Hey,gorgeous,” Robbie purred, pulling her into his arms.

The faint scent of expensivecologne intermingled with grass and sweat tickled her nose. Slantinghis head to the side, he crushed his mouth against hers.

To any onlooker, their kisslooked like a long wet one. In truth, Robbie only mumbled againsther lips. “Smile, you’re on candid camera.”

“Cheese,” Yvonnemurmured, barely moving her lips. To up the ante, she closed her eyesand clutched Robbie’s broad shoulders. Too bad theirarrangement would only be temporary, a girl could get used to this.

“Golden Globes?”

“Oscars,” Yvonnechuckled, her laughter turning into a yelp and a playful swat on herbehind.

“You were great outthere. I’m so proud of—”

Pop!

Yvonne scrambled away beforea shower of champagne bubbles flowed over Robbie’s head ontohis red and black Roma Internazionale jersey. Smiling like a childon Christmas morning, he stood basking in his victory bath.

Yvonne beamed with pride. He’d worked so hard to reach this level in his profession.While every other kid in their old neighborhood played basketball orbaseball, Robbie adored soccer. A virtual pariah, he didn’thave any fellow admirers. Still, he remained loyal to his sport ofchoice.

Like most kids, Robbie tookthe usual road in organized sports, playing in several soccer leaguesthroughout Orlando, Florida. During his junior and senior year heled their high school to the state finals in soccer, earning himselfa full ride to the University of Indiana where he helped the Hoosierswin the National Championships in 2003 and 2004.

Upon graduation, Robbiecould have entered himself into the MLS draft. Instead, he walkedaway to pursue his real dream. To play professional football inEurope where people ate, drank and sometimes killed for the sport.

Determined, he’dreturned to Florida and begged Trenton Kirksey, a former EnglishPremier League Football player, to train him. This led to a spot onthe Men’s National team and a trial with Leeds FC.

After playing a season ontheir reserve team, he bounced around on loan for several moreseasons.

He finally found asemi-permanent home when he scored a two-year contract with RomaInternazionale, one of Italy’s premiere football clubs as areserve forward.

“I better get cleanedup for the press conference. You know how much I like to make a goodimpression.”

Robbie might be a lion onthe soccer field, off it he was a hundred percent metro-sexual. Oneof the reasons why she’d simply shrugged her shoulders whenhe’d come out to her more than ten years ago. Before allowinghis teammates to pull him down the tunnel toward the locker room, hegave her quick peck on the cheek.

While most of the teamfollowed Robbie into the locker room, a handsome strawberry blondpeeled away from the others to plant a kiss on Keitha’s cheek.

“Come here, woman,”he purred, his lips moving along the other woman’s jaw to rightbelow her ear. His lips continued to move, but Yvonne could onlymake out, “chocolate syrup...on all fours...and handcuffs.”

Keitha must have gotten akick out of his garbled words because she giggled like a silly schoolgirl. Fortunately, their groping session didn’t last long. Asif suddenly remembering they had an audience, Keitha broke free ofthe footballer’s roving hands and lips and turned to her.

“Excuse us, Yvonne.This is my husband Freddy, Freddy Macdonald, footballerextraordinaire from the Great Down Under!” Her husband pinchedher butt causing Keitha to squeal the last word.

For good measure, he leanedin to kiss her on the lips. Once they came up for air again, shefinished the introductions, “this is Yvonne Floyd, RobbieGutierrez’s fiancée.”

Freddy’s gingereyebrows arched in surprise, but he extended his hand with a warmtoothy smile.

“Pleasureto finally meet you. We heard…ah…we heard…”

Yvonne struggled to keep herexpression blank. Poor thing, he had no clue Robbie cooked up thissham only two weeks ago. Yvonne decided to ease his embarrassment.“I hope all of it was good. And if any of it wasn’t,don’t believe any of it.”

“No worries.”Freddy blew out a breath, obviously relieved she’d let him offthe hook.

“You’re rank,Freddy!” Keitha’s perfect nose wrinkled as she steppedback. “It’s time for you to hit the showers.”

“Are you giving melip?” Chuckling, MacDonald hooked his arm behind his wife’sneck. He ignored her loud protests about his sweatiness and thegrime coating his body and started planting kisses all over her face.Feeling like an intruder, Yvonne stepped away, giving the happycouple some privacy.

Even though most of the teamhad disappeared, the stadium tunnel hadn’t entirely cleared.Miscellaneous club and stadium staff ran back and forth trying tocomplete their jobs, a small group of rabid fans was being ushered tothe nearest exit and members of the media milled around ready topounce on any player stupid enough to resurface.

“Mi scusi,Signorina. Che dove aspettare?”

Yvonne glanced over hershoulder. A pint sized man with a pen clutched in his hands stoodbehind her. His oily hair, sparse and stringy, hid a bald spot thatlooked like a polished apple. His bad grooming extended to a wrinkledshort-sleeved shirt stained with sweat and a pair of rumpled blackslacks. He was unremarkable except for the PAPARAZZI tag hanging outof his shirt pocket.

“Nocomprendo...Idon’t speak Italian.” Yvonne responded uneasily. She andRobbie had run through the ‘script’ several times, stillit didn’t help to ease her anxiety especially when thephotographer’s pale blue gaze seemed to dissect her.

“You and RobbieGutierrez are friends, no?”

Normally, Yvonne would’veignored the guy or told him it wasn’t any of his business, butsince he was the press she fell into her role. “I’mRobbie Gutierrez’s fiancée,” she corrected.

The man seemed to bebothered by her answer because he frowned and looked almostdisappointed by the news.

“Congratulations,”he mumbled then pressed his lips together.

An awkward silence fellbetween them.