Hook Shot (Hoops #3)(71)

“Guess she told you,” Jade mumbles, still typing on her phone.

“Is that right?” Kenya asks, a grin starting on her lips.

“That is right.” I tap the stem of the wineglass. “And I have no intention of hurting Kenan. I care about him a lot.”

“He cares about you a lot, too.” She chuckles and shakes her head. “I thought he was gonna get himself arrested when he saw that photo. I had to hold him back, and he never loses control.”

Her mouth slowly straightens from the smile into a line, so like Kenan’s. “If I hadn’t been there, he would have kicked that guy’s ass for sure.”

I rub my arms, wincing at the lingering tenderness from the bruises hidden beneath my sleeves. I’m even more determined that Kenan won’t see them.

“That situation is handled,” I assure her. “I’ve dealt with Chase.”

“Does Kenan know that?”

“Does Kenan know what?” he asks, frowning between the two of us.

“Hey,” Jade says, standing. “We gotta roll. The car’s outside to take us.”

“It’s only a few minutes away,” I say. “We could walk.”

Kenya and Kenan look at each other and say together, “New Yorkers.”

“Y’all want to walk everywhere.” Kenya laughs and follows Jade to the exit. Kenan and I are right behind.

“What did Kenya mean?” he asks. “Do I know what?”

I draw a shallow breath and release it quickly. “She asked me about the photo in the gallery.”

“Dammit.” Kenan grimaces. “I’m sorry. I have no idea why she even mentioned it.”

“I know why. She loves you and was afraid you would get into some trouble going after Chase.”

“She might be right,” he says, a rough chuckle rolling out of him. “But it was all good. If you didn’t sit for it or sign a release, we need to figure out how to handle it, though.”

“Yeah, I, um . . . did. I already handled it.”

We reach the sidewalk, and Kenya and Jade climb into the waiting black SUV.

“How did you handle it?” He stops before we reach the car.

“Kenan.” I glance around him and see impatience gathering on both girls’ faces. “Let’s talk about it later. They’re waiting.”

“Let them wait.”

“Kenan, come on,” Kenya says.

“You can wait one minute,” he tells her sharply, “or go the fuck on. Up to you, Ken.”

She rolls her eyes and huffs a heavy breath. “Well hurry up.”

“Okay,” he says, turning back to me. “Now that you got everybody waiting.”

“I have everyone waiting . . .” I laugh at the tiniest gleam of humor in his dark eyes. “I can’t believe you, Kenan Ross.”

“Tell me. What’d you do? How’d you handle it?”

“I went to see Chase.”

The spare lines of his face tighten. “And how’d that go? Did he give you any trouble?”

“No trouble. It’s been removed from the exhibit.”

It’s a long summer day, and the sun hasn’t quite set. In the near dark, he searches my face before nodding.

“Okay. You handled it. Good.” He flicks a grin to his sister. “Coming. Doesn’t hurt you to wait sometimes.”

On the very short ride to Central Park, I tell myself I didn’t lie. I omitted parts of the truth to protect him, and I’m still fully realizing how important that is to me.





25





Kenan





“He’s good,” I say as Grip leaves the stage on Central Park’s Great Lawn.

“Good?” Lotus asks, her face scrunched up. “Frozen yogurt is good. Boiled eggs are good.”

“I prefer scrambled.”

“The new James Patterson is good.”

“Is it really?”

“It’s aight.” She shrugs and gives her head a quick shake. “My point is, Grip is great. Amazing. Gifted.”

“So he’s in your top five?”

“For sure.”

I glance over to where Jade and Kenya are talking to some big guys I assume are security guards. “Looks like you’ll get to meet him soon.”

“I’m going to try really hard not to embarrass you and your sister,” she says, her face completely serious.

“Damn, Lotus. I’ve never seen you this excited about anything. Should I be jealous?”

“Absolutely not,” she says. “Never.”

But we both know I was jealous earlier and acted like an idiot. “About today,” I say, clearing my throat. “I’m sorry I showed up at your office with my . . . how did you put it? Caveman shit?”

“Glad!” someone yells from behind us.

I brace myself to be nice and patient when all I really want to be is with Lotus. We’ve had almost no time truly alone since she got back from Milan. I’ve kept a respectable distance most of the night to make sure nothing suspicious shows up on social media before we can talk to Simone in Monday’s session.“Gimme a sec,” I tell Lotus and nod toward the approaching fan.