Free The Realest Ever by Keith Thomas Walker Page B

later.”  He gave her a kiss on the cheek.
    “If you don’t tell Brianna about that kiss, then you’re lying to her,” Beverly warned.  “It ain’t right to lie to her about what you and Kyra had going on.”
    Donovan knew his mother was right, but he also knew he wouldn’t listen to her.  He couldn’t.  Brianna would never allow him to see Kyra if she knew.
    “Love you,” Donovan said as he headed back to his truck.  “I’ll come by and cut your grass later, when the sun starts to go down.”
    “Can you bring me a slice of buttermilk pie?” Beverly asked.  “That’s the one thing I really wanted from Golden Corral today.”
    “Okay,” Donovan said with a smile.  He didn’t think he’d be near any restaurants that sold single pie slices, but he would make it happen – not because he was a mama’s boy, but because he was a good son.  There is a difference , Donovan told himself.
     

 
     
     
    CHAPTER FIVE
    BFF’S
     
     
     
    Twenty minutes later Donovan stood on Aunt Ruth’s porch wearing the black slacks, gray shirt and black tie he wore to church that day.  His heart was racing, and his palms were moist.  He hadn’t been this nervous since he was in high school.  He rang the doorbell and wiped his hands on his pants and then stuffed them in his pockets.  He pulled them out and adjusted his tie and cleared his throat.  He took a step back so that whoever answered could see him in the peephole.  But then he thought it would look weird; him standing way back there, so he returned to his original spot.
    Get a hold of yourself, man .
    T hat was easier said than done.  It wasn’t possible at all when the door opened and Donovan came face to face with the object of his fascination.  Kyra wore a black skirt with a sleeveless pink blouse.  She had her hair styled in a short bob with one bang concealing her left eyebrow.  The skirt was form-fitting, clutching her curves like an insatiable lover.  The blouse didn’t offer more than a glimpse of her cleavage, but it didn’t have to.  Kyra’s breasts were vast and luscious.  She wore a light coat of lipstick and a little mascara.  Her eyes were as big and beautiful as Donovan remembered them.  Her lips were full and moist, much more enticing than they were fifteen years ago.
    While Donovan stood stiffly, unable to get his Hello out, Kyra found herself in similar disarray.  She studied all of his Facebook pictures and thought she knew every muscle and contour of Donovan’s physique.  But seeing him in real life was a totally different experience.  The pictures didn’t do him justice.  They failed to capture the intensity of his presence, the fire dancing in his dark eyes. 
    Donovan was a few inches taller than Kyra in high school, but he must have had another growth spurt after she left.  He now looked to be six-foot-four inches tall, maybe six-five.  Donovan was slim in the waist, compared to some of his Facebook photos.  But even with a long-sleeved shirt on, Kyra could see that his upper body was massive, especially his chest.  His trapezius muscles were like two fist-size knots on either side of his neck.
    I wish he dressed more casual , Kyra thought.  But she knew she’d swoon at the sight of him in a tight tee shirt – or a tank top.  Or maybe they could go to a pool, and she could have him completely topless .
    Whoa there .
    Kyra tried to get her thoughts in check as her eyes swam up his torso, towards his face.  Donovan was clean-shaven.  The boyish good looks Kyra admired when they were young had evolved into a strong, manly jaw line, dark brown eyes that were almost intimidating even though his lashes might have been the longest Kyra had ever seen on a man.  Donovan had a crew cut with a slight fade.  His edge-up was impeccable.  His lips were delectable.
    Before Kyra could formulate a greeting for the Adonis that stood b efore her, Donovan closed the distance between them and wrapped his strong arms