Block Shot (Hoops #2)(26)

She would be petite. She would be perfect. At least she’s not a Cindy.

I turn away, hopefully before he noticed me gaping at him and his family.

“Hot, right?” Quinn asks, hush-voiced. “And the kid takes him to lava level.”

“Hmmm,” I offer noncommittally around a bite of string cheese and a sip of water.

“Oh God,” Quinn sotto-squeals. “He’s coming over here.”

I choke on my cheese, and a light sweat sprouts across the surface of my entire body. I will not let him reduce me to this again. To this na?ve, nervous . . . girl who starts breathing heavily every time he’s within a two-yard radius. If I was facing him across a negotiating table, it would be an even playing field. I can hold my own with the best of them. But this isn’t a board room. It’s a basketball game. My current lover just ran onto the court. My one-night lover is headed this way. And even knowing I’m long over Jared, my stupid heart does that thing it does sometimes when I think about him.

Jerk.





9





Jared





“Where are we sitting?” Iris asks from slightly behind me.

“I want nachos,” Sarai whines, frowning at the hot dogs her mother carries.

“Sarai, you said hot dogs,” Iris returns firmly. “And I got hot dogs. I’m not going all the way back to get nachos now.”

“But, Mommy, I—”

“I’ll get the nachos,” I cut in. “Once we get settled and find our seats, I’ll go back.”

“Thank you, Uncle Jared,” Sarai says sweetly, blinking those mile-long lashes at me.

They start so young.

How does August live with this? Not gonna lie. It’s a lot of estrogen right now. After a hard day, I’d much rather be in my LA apartment with the city sprawled beneath my balcony and a glass of that overpriced whiskey Bent sent me for Christmas. Instead, I’m at a basketball game refereeing the two beautiful girls in August’s life. Don’t get me wrong, on my short list of people I can tolerate for more than a day, Iris and Sarai are near the top.

But damn.

We’re approaching the section of seats, where I recognize several Waves team friends and family, when I see her. Beside our three empty seats is Banner Morales and Quinn Barrow, one of her clients. As always, Banner’s beautiful. It really bothers me that she is always gorgeous. It would be much more convenient if she didn’t glow. If those silky hairs weren’t escaping that knot on top of her head and skimming her cheeks and the nape of her neck. If those wide same-size lips weren’t curved in a genuine smile. Her features aren’t delicate. They’re bold, each one daring you to look away.

Fuck my life.

And hearing that she’s dating Zo Vidale doesn’t help. Not that I still have feelings for her. I don’t. Not the soft gooey ones I nurtured in college. But the hard ones? The ones poking behind my zipper? They might still be around, especially when Banner is roaming out in public looking like this.

“Oh gosh,” Iris says, her voice tinged with excitement. “Are those our seats right beside Banner?”

“Yup. Looks like.”

“Oh, this is perfect.” Iris beams up at me. “You know how much I—”

“Love her,” I interrupt with a grimace. “Yeah. You mentioned. Look, if you can check your inner fangirl, that’d be great. Banner may be your Wonder Woman caped crusader in this business, but she’s also the managing partner for a rival agency that just set up shop a few blocks from Elevation.”

“Okay.” Iris nods and gives me a rueful smile. “But I do really like her.”

“Most people do.” I roll my eyes. “Just remember you work for me, and she and I vie for the same clients.”

“Have you ever blocked her shot?” Iris asks softly, probably because we’re closer to our seats now. And Banner.

A cocky grin takes over my mouth. I’m known for the block shot. Like in basketball, when one opponent deflects a field goal attempt as the ball is on its way to the hole, I love nothing more than to let another agent think he has a client on lock. Meanwhile, I knock on back doors and meet in back rooms to convince the client I’m the better option. I block their shit just when they think they’re about to score.

“No, I’ve never blocked Banner’s shot,” I reply, but level a frank warning look at Iris. “But I wouldn’t hesitate. Results trump feelings.”

“Jeesh. Glad I’m not an agent,” Iris says. “I’ll stick to marketing. Less blood.”

That’s what she thinks. If I was in marketing, there would be blood.

Banner is studying her phone when we reach the seats, but her client Quinn isn’t. She’s smiling up at me like I’m an ice cream cone in the Mojave Desert.

I get that a lot and use it with no shame.

“Hi,” I say, meeting Quinn’s eyes with a smile of my own. “I think these are our seats.”

Banner’s head pops up, and her eyes narrow before she pulls her professional mask in place.

“Banner Morales, wow,” I drawl, setting Sarai down at the seat between Iris and me. “Long time no see.”

Her expression says not long enough, and her polite smile barely disguises it.