Block Shot (Hoops 2)

He doesn’t respond and I glance up to see his attention fixed on the wall, dented, decorated with fake snowflakes, a pool of glass on the floor.

“He was upset,” I offer by way of explanation.

Jared frowns, his brows jerking together.

“He didn’t . . . touch you, hurt you?”

“Of course not,” I answer immediately. “He took his anger out on the wall, not on me.”

“I imagine he’d like to take it out on me, too,” Jared says, a rueful tilt to his mouth.

“I, uh . . . didn’t tell him who.”

A heartbeat of silence in which he continues to look at me, and I studiously avoid his stare.

“Why not?” he asks.

“You move in the same circles.” I shrug. “I didn’t think it was necessary, though he did want to know.”

“You should have told him. He’ll figure it out eventually.”

“Why do you say that?” I lift puzzled eyes and find him still fixed on me.

“Because it’s going to happen again,” he says huskily, casually like it should be self-evident. “And I want everyone to know.”

Breath rises from my chest in a slow push. I’m not sure if it’s anger, frustration.

Or worse, relief.

“I wasn’t sure if . . .” My fingers find their way back to the drawstring. “You didn’t call so I thought maybe . . .”

“Jesus, Ban,” he says softly but with intensity. “I call and text every day and you ignore me, so I give you space. I lie back as long as I can stand it so you can sort this shit out with Zo, and you assume I don’t want you? What the hell?”

Welcome to the female mind. Hope you enjoy your stay.

He crosses over to the recliner where I’m seated and takes my hand.

“Do you know why I came here tonight?” he asks, stroking the lifeline of my palm with the pad of his thumb.

“No,” I whisper and look up to find an emotion so naked on Jared’s face I almost don’t recognize him. “Why’d you come?”

“To make sure he didn’t forgive you.”

25

Jared

It’s a shitty thing to say. I know that, but I’m being honest. All day I wrestled with the thought that maybe Zo would find it in that famously magnanimous heart to forgive Banner, and then she would feel compelled to stay with him. And I’d just have to break it up all over again.

Messy.

“What?” Banner touches her chest like my words wound her. They probably did. “How could you say that, Jared? If you knew what this is doing to me, that I’ve hurt him and ruined our friendship, you wouldn’t say that.”

She attributes more empathy to me than she should.

“If the shoe were on the other foot,” she says, blinking her puffy eyes at me. “How would you feel? How would you respond?”

She should be glad this is purely hypothetical. I’m not as civilized and kind as Zo, but I think we’ve established that.