Hook Shot (Hoops #3)(88)

“Sure.” I set her on the floor. “You mentioned an after-party—”

“I’m not going,” she cuts in, her eyes affixed to my face. “I already told JP.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah.” I clear my throat. “If you want to grab something to eat—”

“I don’t.” She takes my hand and peers up at me in the dimness of backstage. Models, critics, celebrities, JPL staff all mingle around us, but for me, we’re the only two people here. “I want to go to your apartment, and I want to spend the night. Kenan, I’m ready.”

“Lotus, baby, you don’t have to—”

“Kenan!” JP shouts near my ear.

Lotus and I don’t break our stare immediately, but linger on each other for a few seconds before we look to her boss. He’s practically vibrating with triumph, and I get it. I’m happy for him, but right now, I need to figure out what Lotus means. What she’s saying—if it’s what I think she’s saying. If it is, we’re out of here as soon as possible.

“Did you enjoy the show, mon ami?” he asks me.

“Yeah, it was great.” I pull Lotus into my side, caressing the smooth skin of her back. “Everyone seemed to love it.”

“Oui!” His obvious pleasure coaxes a smile from me. “And Lotus, you’re sure you don’t want to come with me to the after-party? Everyone will be there. All the industry giants.”

Lotus snuggles more deeply into my side with a husky chuckle. “After all the hours I’ve put in the last month,” she says, sounding tired but happy, “there’s only one giant I want to see.”

My smile stretches so damn wide it hurts. I can’t even hide it, what she means to me and how I want her. Now that Simone knows, I don’t give a damn who sees us together. People aren’t generally interested in my life except when Bridget makes a mess of it.

“Well, I like to take some credit for this,” JP drawls, his French accent thickening and his eyes gleaming, “since it was my button that brought you together.”

“I think I would have found a way with or without the button.” I bend to kiss the top of Lotus’s head. “But thanks for the help.”

“De rien.” He flicks his head toward a side exit. “Go on and get out of here then, lovebirds.”

“You’re sure?” Lotus asks, her fingers tightening at my waist.

“We’ll start again soon enough,” he reminds her. “So go before I remember that I can barely function when you are not with me at these awful parties.”

For someone so small, Lotus manages to drag a man twice her size through a crowd with seemingly little difficulty. As soon as the door opens, September sunlight pours into the backstage area. Lotus draws a deep breath before stepping outside a little ahead of me.

“Freedom,” she says, releasing an extended breath. “It’s over.”

A wry chuckle unwinds from her and is quickly gobbled up in the squawk of horns and New York’s urban cacophony. She glances back at me over slumping shoulders, the look filled with weariness and anticipation.

“Take me home, Kenan.”





32





Lotus





This is what I wanted. He is what I wanted.

To be here with the man leaning against his apartment door is what I’ve wanted for days, weeks. Kenan didn’t even notice JP practically salivating over him in the three-piece suit from the JPL Men line, but I did. The perfectly groomed shadow darkening his granite jawline. The impossibly wide horizon of shoulders straining the tailored fabric and narrowing to slim hips, and the powerful length of his legs. There’s an indolence about him, but it’s deceptive. The air pulses with want—a patiently-checked desire I’m finally ready to indulge.

I’m so proud of you, Button.

Not you look beautiful, which would have been nice, too, but I’m so proud of you.

The perfect thing to say to the girl whose one parent spent so much time changing and molding her, pressing out her crinkles and straightening her waves, but was never satisfied.

I’m proud of you.

“I’d like to talk first,” I say, sitting on the living room couch and slipping off my shoes.

“First?” He pushes off the door, stalks to the couch, and sits in the opposite corner, leaving a few feet between us.

“Yeah, first.” I smile despite the churning in my stomach. “Before we make love.”

“You know I’d wait months, years,” he says, eyes fastened to the large hands on his knees. “I want you badly, Lotus. I think you know that, but I’ll wait as long as you need. You mean that much to me.”

His words, perfectly timed, placed, spoken, settle me, and the story comes pouring out. “I told you before there were things I needed to share with you.”

“Yeah.” He glances up and that flick of lashes is the only detectable movement. He’s gone completely still, and alertness sharpens his stare.

“I’m ready to . . .” I swallow the nervousness threatening my words. “To tell you why I needed to wait and what happened.”

A muscles ticks in his cheek. “You’re going to tell me someone hurt you,” he states, not asks.