“We need to talk.”

Good things rarely come when Jared says that to me.

I lie back on the couch in his office, my legs crossed at the ankles, my feet propped up on the armrest.

“What’s there to talk about?” I toss a mini basketball up in the air, catching it with one hand. “Pippa’s signing, right?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Jared walks around his desk, sitting on the edge so he’s facing me. “She hasn’t signed the contracts yet, but we’re close.”

“And I didn’t even have to fuck her.” I toss him a grin. “Aren’t you glad to hear my virtue is still intact? It’s called integrity.”

“It’s called a wasted opportunity, if you ask me,” he drawls.

“That’s why I don’t ask you about anything other than contracts and money.” I toss the ball up in the air again, watching its spinning descent before catching it. “Speaking of money and contracts, we all set for the Houston trade?”

I still can’t believe it. I’m getting out of basketball no man’s land, and being shipped to the holy land. Houston went far in the playoffs this season, falling just a few games short of the championship. They’ll get even further next year with the addition of a few key pieces—me being key.

“Yeah. I have the contracts.” Jared hesitates, sliding his hands into the pockets of his expensively tailored slacks. “You’re sure you want to do this, right?”

“For real?” I eject a disbelieving laugh. “I mean, I’ll miss Decker and Jag and Kenan and all the guys, but it’s business, and we’re all getting something out of it.”

The Waves will get three great players they can continue to build their team with, in exchange for me. And I will get the chance to play for a truly contending team, in line for a championship.

Along with forty-five million dollars.

Did I forget to mention that?

I didn’t want to ask for that much, but Jared is a hard-ass and believed we could get it. Never will I complain about more zeroes.

Jared clears his throat, sighing and then looking at me.

“What? They’re bucking on the money now?” I toss the basketball once more, catch it and drop it to the floor, sitting up, slumping into the leather cushions.

“Nah, nothing like that.” Reluctance is smeared all over Jared’s face. “We agree that this is the best decision, right?”

“Of course.” I frown, crossing one ankle over my knee. “Why you keep asking me that?”

“I got a call last week.” He looks up from the floor, and I brace myself for whatever bomb he’s about to drop. “From Iris.”

Hiro-fucking-shima.

That’s the level bomb he just dropped on me.

“My Iris?” My question shoots out like bullet.

“Well . . .” Jared dips his head from one side to the other. “That’s up for debate.”

“This is not the time to play games with me.” I stand, anticipation humming through my blood, breathing life into parts I didn’t know were dormant. “Did she say where she is? Where she’s been?”

Jared heaves a huge sigh, like he might regret this. “No, and I got the distinct impression she didn’t want to,” he says. “She was more concerned about the future.” He fixes his eyes on me and then rolls them. “She called about a job.”

“A job?” I fire back. “With you?”

“Yeah.”

“Here?”

“Yeah.”

“And you gave her one, right? You said, ‘Yeah, I’ll find a job for you if I have to because my brother will peel my skin back if I don’t.’ Did the conversation go something like that?”

“I still don’t think she realizes we’re related, so you didn’t come up, but yes, I offered her a job. An entry-level job.”

“Entry level?” I flop my arms up and let them fall to my sides. “Is that supposed to entice her?”

“I wasn’t trying to entice her,” he replies. “She’s a sharp girl, smart and ambitious, but that doesn’t change the fact that she’s never worked in the industry beyond college. I told her I was no longer with Richter, but that I had my own agency now in San Diego.”

“We have our own agency,” I correct. “And? This entry-level position, is she accepting it?”

He tosses his eyes up to the ceiling, dropping his head and running his hand through his thick hair. “Yeah, she accepted.”

“Holy shit.” I start pacing, my arms and legs conduits for all the nervous energy zipping through me. “After more than a year, she’s coming back into my life. She’ll be right here in . . .”

My words die a quick and painful death. Iris will be in San Diego, and I’ll be in Houston with my championship ring and my forty-five million dollars.

“We did just agree that Houston is the right basketball decision, Gus,” Jared reminds me. “Don’t do anything rash.”

“Yeah, it’s the right basketball decision, but I’ll retire from basketball at what? Thirty-five? Thirty-six years old? And the rest of my life will be ahead of me. I’ll spend more of my future off court than on. Basketball isn’t my whole life.”

“Isn’t it?” Jared gestures around the luxurious office. “Aren’t we building Elevation around your credibility as a professional athlete?”

“If the last year has shown me anything,” I say softly, “it’s that I need more than ball to make me happy.” I take a deep breath, struggling to slow my heartbeat. She’s not even in the room, not even in the state yet, and she’s got me twisted.

“When does she start?” I ask.

“Three weeks.”

“And would the Waves be open to me staying?” I hold my breath while I wait. If the Waves would rather leverage me to get other players than keep me, I don’t have much choice in the matter.

“The front office would probably be thrilled to keep building around you. I know Deck would.” Jared shakes his head and rubs the back of his neck. “But I’m begging you not to make a hasty decision you’ll regret.”

I know about regret. I regret not getting her phone number the first night we met. I regret not trying harder to make her see what a jackass Caleb was. I regret not kissing her sooner—not figuring out a way to make her mine. I regret not being the father of her first child.

But with the same instinct I had that night at the bar, the one that told me she would be important to me, that we would be right together, I know I won’t regret this.

“Kill the deal.”

“Gus.” Jared lowers his face to his hands and speaks through his fingers. “Don’t do this. You don’t even know if she’ll want a relationship with you.”

Is he right? No. He can’t be, not when I remember the ease Iris and I shared every time we were together. Confessions, hopes, dreams, fears, insecurities pouring out of us. I’ve never felt that connected to anyone else. And the way that kiss in the closet still scorches my memory and gives me a hard-on. God, I’ll never forget how she tastes—sweet and tangy.

A rich fantasy pours over my senses, the smell of her when my face was buried between her legs. The silky skin inside her thighs kissing my cheeks. My mouth, hungry and sloppy, feasting at her core. My face wet with her arousal. Her fingers digging in my hair. That strip of golden skin above her panties. Fuck, her beaded nipples through that T-shirt.

“Kill the deal,” I say hoarsely, heading toward Jared’s office door. I’m gonna need to rub this one out in the restroom. I won’t even make it home.

“August, you know this is a long shot, right?” he reasons one last time, though the resignation in his eyes tells me he understands it’s futile to try to dissuade me from this course.

“A long shot?” I ask, pausing at the door to give him a cocky grin. “Last I heard, I’m pretty good at those.”