Block Shot

“Me?” She points to herself, her mouth hanging open the smallest bit.

“Unless there’s another Iris on our team,” I say with a touch of sarcasm, looking away from her and moving right into the next agenda item.

I have to handle Iris carefully, never paying her special attention or granting her special favors. She’s legitimately talented and has so much untapped potential, but she’s also married to my brother, a silent partner in Elevation and an NBA all-star. I don’t want her rise in this company, in this industry, to smack of nepotism. That would be a disservice to the badass she really is. She reminds me a lot of Banner, and I can see why Iris admires her so much. They’d be great friends, if given the opportunity.

And I plan to give them the opportunity. Knowing Banner, she’ll want to be circumspect about our relationship, considering the public only recently found out about her and Zo. I have no idea how things will pan out after it leaks that Zo is leaving the Bagley Agency and that he and Banner aren’t together. Until things settle, she’ll want to be discrete. I can do discrete as long as it doesn’t prevent us moving forward. I want my family to know, though. My parents’ anniversary party would be a great time to introduce them to Banner. After they get over the shock of me actually bringing someone home, they’ll love her.

Everyone loves Banner.

I’ve said every word but love. To her and to myself.

Fuck. Need. Want. Mine.

All great words to describe what we have but don’t quite capture the depth of feeling. The intensity that has endured through years, through other relationships, through conflict. I set it aside when I couldn’t have Banner, tried to ignore it while we built our separate lives and made our own way, but as soon as she was in my orbit again, she was like a string tied tightly around my finger, reminding me that there was someone out there who fit me in every way that matters. And I’ve searched for another word, a different word, a less committed word, less meaningful to describe what I feel for her, and I can’t find it.

I’ve seen love, real love. I saw it between my father and mother. I’ve witnessed the miracle of my dad finding it again with my stepmother. I’ve seen it blossom under horrific conditions for August and Iris. I respect the word too much to use it lightly and have never even come close to using it with anyone else.

But Banner . . . she’s not anyone else. There’s only one Banner, and she’s mine. I can admit that. I can say she’s my match. That we belong together. She’s my equinox.

But saying that word, for a guy like me, it’s irrevocable—and as corny as it sounds, sacred. I don’t even like many people, for obvious reasons. Because they suck. They just annoy and disappoint me too often to even bother. Banner, someone I not only like more than everyone else, but enjoy spending time with more than anyone else and want to fuck and claim to the exclusion of everyone else, is a tiny glowing needle in a universe-sized haystack. I can’t believe I found her, and I know how it feels to lose her. Until I know that won’t happen again, that word just sits waiting for the perfect moment when I’m absolutely sure.

All these doubts and desires run on a back channel in my head during the staff meeting. My focus has been splintered ever since Cal summoned Banner to Vancouver. She and I haven’t spoken much the last few days. We boarded separate planes, mine bringing me back to LA and hers taking her . . . to him. To Zo.

I’m paranoid for no reason. He’s not like me. He’s the good-hearted guy who’s probably never seen an episode of Billions. Surely he doesn’t eat game theory and dominant strategy for breakfast, lunch, and dinner the way I do. I know Banner. She has to fight for the people she cares about. She has to save, rescue. I’ve seen it with her clients, with her friends. And with Zo being her best friend, as she has reminded me maybe a million times, if he’s really sick, I don’t even want to think about what she would do for him.

The man’s in the hospital. According to my last, albeit brief, call with Banner, he was supposed to get results yesterday. I’m emotionally evolved enough to know what a normal human would feel under these circumstances. I should feel sympathy. I should feel concerned. Instead, jackass that I am, I find myself wondering how he’ll leverage this to get her back, because that’s what I would do.

My only hope is that he’s a better man than I am.

“And Bill,” I say, searching the faces gathered around our conference room table until I find the junior agent. “That three-on-three tournament in Australia is the perfect chance to—”

My phone illuminates on the table, and Banner’s name flashes across the screen.

“Hey, guys, I need to get this.” Without looking up or missing a beat, I head for the door that leads to the hall. “Chyna, take over for me, will ya?”

“Sure thing, Boss,” she says.

I walk a few feet down the hall and lean against the wall before I answer.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” she replies, her voice low. “How are you?”

“I miss you.” I sound like such a pussy. “When can I see you?”

Shit, it’s getting worse.

“I miss you, too. Um, can we talk?”

“Sure.” I glance at my watch. “I’m wrapping up a meeting, but I—”

“I’m in your building,” she cuts in. “I only have a few minutes. Can I come up?”

My heart races and slows. That built-in barometer that has navigated me through more than one difficult deal tells me a storm is brewing. The winds are shifting. I hear it in her quiet voice, a calm before the storm.

“Yeah,” I say after a pause. “Come on.”

I’m waiting by the elevator when she arrives. She looks young and pretty and my heart lurches at the sight of her. Even with her hair pulled back in a loose braid and wearing a simple patterned top, ripped-at-the-knee dark skinny jeans, and leather flip flops, she exudes power. She’s a woman who built herself from the inside out. The clothes are interchangeable and her weight may fluctuate, but her strength is constant. She could stand here naked and be just as compelling.

I’d actually prefer her that way.

With a furtive glance at the conference room, where my team is pretending not to watch me fraternizing with the managing partner of our rival firm, I drag Banner by the hand into my office. As soon as we’re inside, I pin her to the door. If my brain is sending a slow down signal, my hands aren’t getting the message. Urgency marks every touch, my hand clasping her neck, freeing her hair, gripping her waist, squeezing her ass, sliding into her blouse to knead her breast. Her silky skin, the clean scent, the sweetness of her mouth, the deepest part, down her throat . . . it all makes me desperate in a way I’ve never been desperate before. In a way I hate. Like I know this won’t last and I can’t keep her.

She reciprocates, straining up on her toes, chaining herself to me with arms around my neck. She grips my jaw, holds me still to have her way with my mouth. Carte blanche kisses, free rein fondling, a no-holds-barred embrace with nothing off limits.

“Ban,” I whisper against her neck, my hand rhythmically rubbing her pussy through the thick denim. “Tell me we have time because I will fuck you up against this door right now.”

She sighs, her fingers tightening in my hair, and kisses me slowly, thoroughly, until she pulls away to press her cheek to mine. Even as her hips rock into my touch, she shakes her head.

“No.”

“No, we don’t have time? Or just no?”

Her head dips lower so all I see is dark hair and slumped shoulders.

“Just no.”

The rejection cools the south-bound blood traveling to my dick and reduces my racing heart to a weighted thud in my chest.

“How’s Zo?” I keep my voice even, though everything under the surface is disrupted. I’m disturbed. I know this is about him, that somehow she’s telling me no because of him.

“Let’s sit down.” She doesn’t wait for me but sits on the sleek leather couch in my office.

I sit beside her but lift her onto my lap, ignoring her protest.

“Jared, I’m too heavy,” she says breathlessly, squirming.

“You’re not.” I link my fingers at her stomach and pull her back into my chest. “I held you like this on the island. Remember?”

I’m not just reminding her that she sat on my lap but that we took quantum leaps in the Caribbean. The things we entrusted to each other. The things I gave her and she gave me that we’d never shared with anyone before. That counts. Whatever is happening with Zo, however he is drawing her back to him, those days and nights I had with her count. They mattered, and I need her to remember that. She stills, relaxes into me, snuggles into me, and nods, her soft hair brushing my chin.

“That feels like another world,” she says, caressing my fingers at her waist. “Like it was so long ago.”

The only thing left of that serene time is our tans. The languid pace and liquid passion, flowing any way we chose, is restricted by whatever she is working up the nerve to tell me.

“It was only a few days ago.” I give her a little shake. “Tell me what’s going on.”

She looks up, and the misery on her face clenches my heart into a fist.

“It’s bad,” she says, the words breaking on a sob. Tears leak over her smooth cheeks. “They say he has six months to two years.”

Shock freezes all my synapses for a second, short circuiting my thoughts.

“To live?” I tip my head back, angling so I can see her face. “You’re saying Zo only has six months to live? Two years to live?”

The finely drawn line of her jaw flexes and her sweet lips fall into a grim line.

“No, they say that.” She narrows her eyes. “They’re wrong. He’s going to live a lot longer than that because I won’t let him die.”

I need to know if she’s delusional, determined, or some hybrid of both.

“Tell me.”     PrevNextTip: You can use left and right keyboard keys to browse between pages.

© Copyright Novels80.com. All Rights Reserved.Contact - ToS - Sitemap