Hook Shot (Hoops #3)(114)

“She won’t ever do that again.” A tick disrupts the stern line of his jaw.

“The thing about trying to kill yourself,” I say, keeping my voice hard, being ruthless because I have to be, “is you get better at it every time you try.”

He draws in a breath that strains the muscles of his chest in his shirt.

“Show her now, Kenan,” I urge, grabbing his hand. “Show her she’s the most important thing to you. Focus on her, and when the time is right, when she’s better, Dr. Packer will guide her into accepting me as part of your life.” I breathe a little chuckle. “Maybe one day, accepting me as part of her life, too.”

“I want that,” he says, the look in his eyes intensifying. “I want you in her life. I want us to be a family. Lotus, I want you to be my—”

“Stop.” If he says it, there is no way I can send him away. Longing swells so big inside of me, I think I might burst. “Don’t. Not yet.”

“When?” he demands, lifting my chin. “When can I say it?”

“Later. After she’s better, you can say it.”

“Promise me. Promise me I can say it when she’s better, and I’ll give you your break.”

“It’s not my break, Kenan,” I say, huffing an exasperated sigh. “It’s for her, not us. That’s the point.”

We stare each other down, and it’s reminiscent of all those times I walked into a room and forced myself to stare into the eyes of the most beautiful man I’d ever seen, and walk away. I was afraid then of what would happen if I gave into the pull between us. Then I only suspected that if I ever got involved with him, I wouldn’t be able to leave. Now, I know who he is behind that rough exterior. I know his tenderness, his love, his passion, and they’ve exceeded my every expectation. He’s so much more than I imagined he would be, and it’s breaking me in half to let him go even for a season.

“Everything you’ve told me seems to underscore my point,” I say carefully. “Simone wants to be with you. With her living in your house, this is the perfect opportunity to show her she’s your priority.”

He doesn’t release me from the wall. I’m a butterfly trapped under glass. He studies me, but still doesn’t move.

“I’m flying Dr. Packer in once a week so Simone doesn’t have to start over with a new therapist,” he finally says. “When she determines that Simone is better, and that the time is right, you’ll, um . . .” He clears his throat, his lashes lowered and hiding whatever is in his eyes. “When the time is right, you’ll come back to me?”

My unguarded warrior. Never have I heard him more vulnerable, more exposed than he is right now. I reach up to cup his face, meeting his eyes with the force of my passion, my devotion.

“When the time is right,” I promise, my voice husky from the tears kept at bay in my throat, “I’ll come running, Mr. Ross.”

He bends and locks his elbows under my ass, picking me up and pressing his forehead to mine.

“No one touches you,” he says softly, fiercely.

“No one,” I agree.

“No dates.”

“None.”

“No flirtations or any of that shit.”

“None of that shit.”

He pauses, narrowing his eyes. “I’m serious, Lotus. We are not on a break. We are not seeing other people. You are not single.”

“And you can tell those groupies who hang around in the tunnel after games if they like their teeth in their mouths,” I say sharply, “they’ll keep their paws and their nasty little pussies away from my man. Do I make myself clear, Kenan?”

He grins, a flash of bittersweet against his mahogany skin that has my heart skipping beats and turning cartwheels, even as it breaks. “Crystal clear.”





43





Lotus





“Paris next year, Lo,” JP says decisively. “I want to show in Paris instead of New York.”

I nod, focused on the dress design I’ve been working on. “That sounds good.”

“Orders from the new collection have far surpassed our projections.”

“That’s amazing,” I reply, smudging the line of the shoulder with my thumb.

“And I think I’ll use that new model from Mars.”

“Love it.” I frown at the length of the sleeve, flipping my pencil to erase a half inch.

“And let’s open the fall show with an orgy.”

“Great idea.” I tilt my head and squint one eye at the hem. “Orgies are so hot right . . . “

My head pops up and I stare at him wide-eyed. “Wait. What?”

“I wondered how far I would have to go before you actually started listening,” he says, his grin teasing.

“Very funny. I was listening.”

“Oh, so you will be scouting on Mars for my next model, eh?”

“Va te faire foutre,” I mumble, and fight a smile.

“I think that’s the problem.” He accessorizes a suggestive waggle of his brows with a devilish grin. “You’re the one not getting fucked.”

My grin falls away, and I gather my sketch pad, phone and laptop.