Hoops Holiday (Hoops 2.50)

A wry grin tips my mouth. It’s none of my concern anymore. He’s right, and keeping my nose out of his business, other than his actual business, is what keeps things comfortable for both of our significant others. Hell, for us, too.

“Sorry.” I fiddle with the linen napkin on the table. “Old habits die hard.”

“You know I’ll never forget all you did for me.” Zo covers my hand with his briefly before pulling back. “I wouldn’t even be alive if it weren’t for you.”

“You’re exaggerating.” I dip my head to hide the emotion that nearly overwhelms me when I think about all the times he came within a handbreadth of dying.

“No, I’m not,” Zo replies. “And we both know. Only we really know, Banner.”

I lift my head to find a matching emotion reflected in his eyes. We’ve been through a lot together. Hell together, actually, but now we’re both happier than we’ve ever been.

“Where’s Graciela?” I ask, reaching for my water to take a sip. “I thought she was coming with you.”

“Yes, she, uh . . .” Zo twists his lips, something close to discomfort flitting across his expression. “She needed the restroom. There’s something I need to tell you, Bannini, before we dive into my speaking schedule for next year.”

I grab the iPad from its slot in my leather bag.

“What’s up?” I place the iPad on the table, sit back and cross my legs, waiting for him to continue.

“Gracie and I, we’re engaged.”

I cover my immediate smile with one hand, joy popping off inside me like champagne corks. I may even squeal.

“Dios, Zo, that’s fantastic.” I lean forward to capture and hold his gaze with mine, letting him see how sincerely delighted I am for him. “You deserve every happiness.”

“Gracias,” Zo answers, his proud grin widening. “She has no idea what she’s getting into, so I’ll marry her before she figures out she’s getting a lemon.”

“Lemon, my ass. You’re in better shape than most of those guys playing in the league. Still.”

“Yeah, well, there’s something else I need to tell you.” That shadow passes over his face again. “Banner, Gracie is—”

“Sorry about that,” Graciela’s voice interrupts as she reaches the table. “I hear lots of bathroom breaks are to be expected for women in my condition.”

I glance up, and my smile freezes.

Pregnant.

That’s the word Zo didn’t get to say. The thing he was uncomfortable telling me. He knows how badly I want a baby; knows we’ve been trying with no success so far.

I flick a glance from the little bump poking through Graciela’s loose-fitting dress to her pretty face.

“Yes, I hear that, too,” I reply on auto-pilot. “Congratulations on both counts.”

“Gracias,” she says, her expression turning dreamy when she places a delicate hand on her belly.

Her engagement ring catches the sun streaming through the wall of windows, and a shard of light pokes my eye. Makes me squint. It cuts like glass across my face, and for a moment, pain slices through me. It has nothing to do with the ring, and everything to do with the baby growing inside Zo’s fiancée.

“How far along are you?” I ask, relying on muscle memory for my smile as she takes her seat.

“Five months.” Graciela meets my smile and turns one to Zo, but Zo is looking at me.

“I was going to tell you, Banner,” he says quickly.

He knows. I hate that I can’t hide from either of the men who have meant so much to me, Zo as a friend and Jared as the love of my life. In this moment, with LA’s blinding winter sun exposing every emotion in me, on my face, there is nowhere to hide.

“Oh, no,” I rush to assure him . . . and her. “Why? Most couples get past the first trimester before telling people.”

But I’m not “people” and it is well into the second trimester, and even if Graciela doesn’t know, Zo and I both know why he didn’t tell me.