Block Shot (Hoops 2)

I can’t say the word, the one I rarely even allowed myself to even think for the last three months.

“He’ll be okay,” Jared assures me. “I know it. That man is not going out like that. He’ll stick around if only to make my life miserable.”

That coaxes a small smile from me as he knew it would. I link our fingers and look up at him, taking in the hand

some face and the rare tenderness he reserves for pretty much only me.

“I think the two of you will be great friends one day,” I tell him, and I mean it. Under the right circumstances and with some time, I could see them appreciating the differences in the other.

Jared conveys his skepticism about that with one lifted brow.

“I hope we’ll get the chance.” He turns me toward the small bathroom in the empty two-bed suite. “Go change so we can get back to your family. I have a hard enough road ahead with them.”

That could be true, especially with my mother, but I want him to know that it won’t change the way I feel.

I’m poised to go change with my back facing the bathroom door.

“I love you,” I tell him again and turn into the bathroom without waiting for a response, but Jared’s not letting me off that easily. The door opens just as I’m unzipping my dress.

“You can’t just say that and leave,” he says, his voice uneven, his eyes lit with something wholly new. Something my words gave birth to. “I’m not used to it yet.”

I slip the dress off, grateful that there is at least a strapless bra, and slip on the T-shirt and yoga pants Iris sent. She’s much smaller than I am, so I’m glad she chose stretchy clothes.

“Say it again.” He advances deeper into the room until he stands right in front of me. “I need to hear it again.”

“I love you,” I say, my voice sober and honest. “I think I have for a long time.”

He cups my cheek and kisses my hair.

“Me, too,” he says, the look in his eyes belying the casual tone of his voice. “Since senior year, to be exact.”

My phone rings, stealing our smiles. It’s my mom.

“Hey, Mama. Any word?”

“The doctor just came out,” she says, her voice stiff with disapproval. “If you can spare the time to hear what he has to say.”

I don’t even respond. Don’t bother reminding her that sparing time is all I’ve done for the last three months. I don’t have to defend myself to my mother or anyone. The only person I need to completely understand is Zo, and I think now he does. I hope I’ll get the chance to find out.

As soon as we rejoin my family in the waiting room, the doctor launches into his update.

“Who came in with him?” the doctor asks, looking over all the faces.

“Um, it was me,” I say hastily. “I did all I could think to do. I thought he would be okay because he just finished his chemo, but I guess some of his organ functions are still compromised. It was too much and I’m so sorry. If he—”

“You probably saved his life,” the doctor cuts in, the look he gives me kind and a balm to some of the guilt that never seems too far away. “If we’d had to figure out all the things you gave us and hadn’t gotten in touch with Stanford right away, we probably would have lost him. He was literally in the process of dying. His organs had begun shutting down.”

I unconsciously grab Jared’s hand at the doctor’s words, at how close I came to losing my best friend. I force my breaths in and out slowly.

“We’re flushing his body with a saline solution right now,” the doctor continues. “He’s resting and will be here for a few days recovering, but he should continue steadily improving.”

“When can we see him?” I ask, needing to see for myself that Zo is okay.

“You can see him now.” His glance roves all the eager faces lined up. “Just two at a time, please.”

I squeeze Jared’s hand and let go, walking toward where the doctor said Zo was resting. I don’t even check to see who the second person is who follows me but make my way straight to Zo’s side. He’s asleep, but I still have to talk to him.

“You scared me to death,” I whisper and grab his hand, which is huge but still skeletal compared to its former size.