Block Shot (Hoops 2)

His face relaxes. Maybe he realized he’s scowling at me.

“No, of course not.” He walks farther into the room, takes a seat a few feet away, and pulls the mask off. “After all, I understand you and Banner go way back.”

I’m not sure what she’s told him, so I just nod, keeping my face neutral.

“So how are you feeling?” I ask.

“Like each of my organs is systematically being attacked.”

“Sorry.” I twist my lips, self-deprecating. “I guess that was a dumb question. I can’t imagine what you’re going through.”

“It would be a thousand times worse without Banner.” A tiny smile crooks the sober line of his mouth. “She takes good care of me.”

He watches me through a veil of thick lashes camouflaging his thoughts.

“I’d probably already be dead were it not for her. Loyalty like hers . . .” he shakes his head and looks down at his hands “. . . a woman like Banner comes once in a lifetime.”

I don’t acknowledge his statement with anything other than a steady stare, giving nothing away. Our eyes lock, and I drop mine first. Even I’m not interested in a staring contest with a dying man.

“So you were at Kerrington with Banner, yes?”

“Yeah. We were there together.”

“I wish I could have seen her in college.” His smile is easy and affectionate. “I met her as she was about to graduate, during her internship.”

“With Bagley, right? When she signed you.”

“It was more like I signed her,” he says wryly. “I recognized her potential right away. Was she the smartest girl then, too? Back in college?”

My shoulders drop, the muscles relaxing at the prospect of an easy topic. Banner being awesome.

“Absolutely.” I smile involuntarily, recalling Banner in college. So single-minded and earnest. “She was brilliant.”

“She claims she was . . . what is the word?” He seems to search his mind. “I have chemo brain and sometimes can’t find the right phrase when I need it. Frumpy? Is that it?”

“Frumpy?” I chuckle. “I guess you could say that. She dressed very differently, that’s for sure.”

“But that didn’t make a difference to you, did it?” He sits back and links spindly fingers over his frail torso. “You didn’t think she was frumpy, did you, Foster?”

The smile lingering from my amusement dries up, too, and we’re left considering each other, both of us tight lipped.

“No, I didn’t think Banner was frumpy,” I finally agree. “I thought she was . . .” I hesitate to go on, not sure what I’ll reveal, give away.

“Beautiful?” he finishes softly.

I glance up to find him watching me closely.

“Yeah.” I free my voice of emotion. “She was beautiful.”

“So you wanted her then, too?”

I don’t allow myself to respond for a moment but glance up the stairs, wondering how close Banner is and if she’ll hear what’s about to go down.

“Excuse me?” I ask.

“I said so you’ve always wanted Banner?” His face may be neutral, but his eyes proclaim anger.

I prefer gloves off anyway, so I won’t bother lying to him. He wants this conversation, we can have it. It’s overdue.