Block Shot (Hoops 2)

“Zo, I don’t . . . I can’t make any promises,” I tell him as honestly as I can without being cruel. “I’m not sure we should ever have . . . Well, do you sometimes think that maybe we should have remained just friends?”

“That is my condition,” he says, hardening his tone and ignoring my question. “I’m not expecting you to be in a relationship with me, or to sleep with me, but you can’t sleep with him either. He and I will both wait until I’m better and the fight is fair and the playing field is even.”

All the air leaves my lungs. I thought he could ask anything of me and it wouldn’t even be hard, but this is hard. I know this isn’t what I want with Zo anymore. What I feel for and what I have with Jared is something already so deep and rich, and we’ve only scratched the surface of it, but what I told Lowell is true. Zo needs something he’s fighting for. Simply fighting to live is not enough. He needs something he’s fighting to live for.

We have something special.

Jared’s last words echo in my head, caressing my thoughts and seducing my imagination. Hurting my heart.

Yes, Zo needs something to live for. He has ball.

And now he has me.

32

Jared

“Iris, can you sit in on the Nike call?”

I glance up from the marketing plan on my iPad for the upcoming campaign and find my sister-in-law gaping at me with wide eyes.

“Me?” She points to herself, her mouth hanging open the smallest bit.

“Unless there’s another Iris on our team,” I say with a touch of sarcasm, looking away from her and moving right into the next agenda item.

I have to handle Iris carefully, never paying her special attention or granting her special favors. She’s legitimately talented and has so much untapped potential, but she’s also married to my brother, a silent partner in Elevation and an NBA all-star. I don’t want her rise in this company, in this industry, to smack of nepotism. That would be a disservice to the badass she really is. She reminds me a lot of Banner, and I can see why Iris admires her so much. They’d be great friends, if given the opportunity.

And I plan to give them the opportunity. Knowing Banner, she’ll want to be circumspect about our relationship, considering the public only recently found out about her and Zo. I have no idea how things will pan out after it leaks that Zo is leaving the Bagley Agency and that he and Banner aren’t together. Until things settle, she’ll want to be discrete. I can do discrete as long as it doesn’t prevent us moving forward. I want my family to know, though. My parents’ anniversary party would be a great time to introduce them to Banner. After they get over the shock of me actually bringing someone home, they’ll love her.

Everyone loves Banner.

I’ve said every word but love. To her and to myself.

Fuck. Need. Want. Mine.

All great words to describe what we have but don’t quite capture the depth of feeling. The intensity that has endured through years, through other relationships, through conflict. I set it aside when I couldn’t have Banner, tried to ignore it while we built our separate lives and made our own way, but as soon as she was in my orbit again, she was like a string tied tightly around my finger, reminding me that there was someone out there who fit me in every way that matters. And I’ve searched for another word, a different word, a less committed word, less meaningful to describe what I feel for her, and I can’t find it.

I’ve seen love, real love. I saw it between my father and mother. I?

?ve witnessed the miracle of my dad finding it again with my stepmother. I’ve seen it blossom under horrific conditions for August and Iris. I respect the word too much to use it lightly and have never even come close to using it with anyone else.

But Banner . . . she’s not anyone else. There’s only one Banner, and she’s mine. I can admit that. I can say she’s my match. That we belong together. She’s my equinox.

But saying that word, for a guy like me, it’s irrevocable—and as corny as it sounds, sacred. I don’t even like many people, for obvious reasons. Because they suck. They just annoy and disappoint me too often to even bother. Banner, someone I not only like more than everyone else, but enjoy spending time with more than anyone else and want to fuck and claim to the exclusion of everyone else, is a tiny glowing needle in a universe-sized haystack. I can’t believe I found her, and I know how it feels to lose her. Until I know that won’t happen again, that word just sits waiting for the perfect moment when I’m absolutely sure.

All these doubts and desires run on a back channel in my head during the staff meeting. My focus has been splintered ever since Cal summoned Banner to Vancouver. She and I haven’t spoken much the last few days. We boarded separate planes, mine bringing me back to LA and hers taking her . . . to him. To Zo.

I’m paranoid for no reason. He’s not like me. He’s the good-hearted guy who’s probably never seen an episode of Billions. Surely he doesn’t eat game theory and dominant strategy for breakfast, lunch, and dinner the way I do. I know Banner. She has to fight for the people she cares about. She has to save, rescue. I’ve seen it with her clients, with her friends. And with Zo being her best friend, as she has reminded me maybe a million times, if he’s really sick, I don’t even want to think about what she would do for him.

The man’s in the hospital. According to my last, albeit brief, call with Banner, he was supposed to get results yesterday. I’m emotionally evolved enough to know what a normal human would feel under these circumstances. I should feel sympathy. I should feel concerned. Instead, jackass that I am, I find myself wondering how he’ll leverage this to get her back, because that’s what I would do.

My only hope is that he’s a better man than I am.

“And Bill,” I say, searching the faces gathered around our conference room table until I find the junior agent. “That three-on-three tournament in Australia is the perfect chance to—”

My phone illuminates on the table, and Banner’s name flashes across the screen.

“Hey, guys, I need to get this.” Without looking up or missing a beat, I head for the door that leads to the hall. “Chyna, take over for me, will ya?”