by Kennedy Ryan
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.”
38
Iris
I have first-day jitters. Or maybe these are new-life jitters. New-course jitters.
When I dug out Jared Foster’s business card, who would have thought I’d be here a month later, in the offices of his new agency, Elevation? Yes, I’m entry level, but it’s a small company looking for motivated people who want to make things happen.
That’s me, I remind myself.
“Here she is,” Jared says when he strides into the small conference room where the receptionist instructed me to wait. “Elevation’s newest employee.”
“Hi.” I stretch my hand out to him, shaking firmly, even though I have to stop myself from flinging my arms around his neck for giving me this opportunity. “So good to see you again.”
What are the odds?
Me living in San Diego.
And August moving to Texas, if the reports of his trade are correct.
I never got his number, but if I want to find him, I might be able to. Jared may even have connections with his agent.
I force myself to focus and not think about August, which has been hard ever since I landed last week. We are in the same state, in the same city, though both are bigger than any I’ve ever lived in before.
“You settled into your new place?” Jared asks, sitting on the edge of the conference room table with his arms folded.
“Yeah, I’ll have to thank your assistant for helping me find it.” I widen my eyes and grin. “I’d heard San Diego was so expensive, but I found a great place that I can actually afford and childcare for Sarai.”
“Yeah, how about that?” Jared scratches behind his ear like a dog searching for a flea before clearing his throat. “We, um, just recently started the daycare for our staff.”
“I was so surprised an organization as young as Elevation already has on-site childcare.”
“Yeah.” He lifts his brows, a sardonic turn to his mobile mouth. “No one was more surprised than me. My, uh, partner insisted on it for the, um, parents.”
“I dropped Sarai off a few minutes ago.” I press my palm to my heart through my silk dress. “It’s my first time being apart from her, so the on-site daycare is perfect. And so affordable. They said it will be deducted from my check, and I’ll never even see it.”
“Yeah,” he says with a wry grin. “It’ll be like it’s not even being taken out.”
I force myself to stop gushing about how smoothly things have gone. He doesn’t want to hear all of this. I’m sure he’s here to lay out my responsibilities. I cannot wait to dive back into this industry—to do the thing I’ve wanted to do since high school.
“We’ll talk about the job and all the details in a little bit,” Jared says, as if he’s reading my mind. “But there’s someone from, um, human resources . . . kind of, who needs to meet with you first.”
<
br /> “Oh, sure.” That makes sense. Probably to review benefits and sign paperwork.
“I’ll check in with you later.” Jared stands, prompting me to stand, too. “They’ll be right in.”
“Okay.” I sit once he leaves and smooth my palms over the slim-fitting dress Lo made me wear.
Right on time, my phone buzzes with her face onscreen. I glance over my shoulder at the door, taking the chance that I can make this quick before human resources arrives.
“Make this quick, Lo,” I say. “HR will be here any minute with paperwork and stuff.”
“I will. Sorry. I wasn’t even sure what time it was there.” She chuckles over the sound of a sewing machine in the background. “I’m on button-duty today. Sewing ten billion buttons onto this dress for next week’s show.”
“Paris?” I shoot a covert look at the door.
“Milan.” She pops a bubble with her gum over the phone. “Sorry. It’s all I’ve got to eat in here. These models are like robots. Seriously. They don’t require food to operate.”
I snicker, forgetting my nervousness for a moment.
“I was wondering if I can come visit when I get back?” Lo asks, still popping her gum.
“Oh, God, yes, Lo.” I release a pent-up breath. “I’m still settling in, getting to know the city. Come explore it with us.”
“I won’t be able to stay long,” she says, “but I’ve realized how much I missed you when . . .” Her voice trails off. We don’t discuss my time with Caleb. He hasn’t contacted me, and I refuse to put my life on hold another second fearing that he might.
Footsteps are approaching, and I practically drop the phone. “I gotta go, Lo.”
“Okay, but how does Sarai like her new daycare?” she asks in a rush. “I miss my baby. I know she misses me.”
“Yeah, terribly. We’ll FaceTime tonight. Gotta go.”
I disconnect just as the conference room door opens behind me. I’m about to turn around when a flower is placed on the table at my elbow.
Not just any flower. A gorgeous Louisiana iris in full bloom.
My heart gallops in my chest like a herd of wild thoroughbreds. A premonition prickles my skin, and there’s an uprising of the fine hairs on the back of my neck. My body knows before I do, but I’m still speechless when I zing a glance over my shoulder.
I meet those thundercloud eyes under lashes as thick and curly as I remember. Every detail of his face, his hair, his body, is the same, only better. There are so many things he’ll want me to explain—so many things I want to tell him, but right now his name is all I can manage.
“August?”
39
August
I passed on forty-five million dollars and probably a championship title.
You’d think that would be the first thing I thought about when I woke up this morning, since I can still hear Jared’s damn voice screeching in my head.
Nope.
This moment. This moment right here is the first thing I’ve thought about every morning for the last three weeks. I had so many ideas about the way it could go, but I thought the flower was my best bet. It would remind her that, though we haven’t ever been a couple, we have a history and an undeniable connection. That every time we’ve been together, we’ve gone deeper and known each other better. There is an August and Iris, and I’m ready to go all in on it. I’m sure that by the end of my life, I, like most people, will have a stack of regrets and “wish I hads,” but Iris DuPree won’t be one of them. Even if things don’t ultimately go the way I’d like them to, I won’t regret trying.
She’s too worth it.
“August?”
Shock and pleasure and confusion march across her expressive face in quick succession. She stands, the Louisiana iris held between her fingers, and I get my first full look at her in more than a year.
Sweet Jesus.
My eyes rove her from head to toe, taking in every minute detail. Except for the night we met, her hair has always been straight, but it’s not today. It’s longer, untamed waves flowing down her back and almost reaching her elbows. Thick, dark coils cling possessively to the silky curve of her throat and to her arms, touching all the places I hope to claim. Those eyes, flecked with autumn—amber, gold and green—startle me with their clarity under a dense sweep of sooty lashes and brows. Her skin has this glow. She’s always been beautiful, but there’s some new dimension to her. I can’t put my finger on it, but it adds this layer of irresistibility, and I clench my fists so I won’t reach for her.
My eyes drop to her mouth. It’s too soon to kiss her. There are explanations and questions and details. There’s all of that shit, but really, I want to set it all aside and just devour her mouth. I want to suck those lips between mine, plunge my tongue down her throat, and lick around until I’ve sampled every hot, slick inch of her.
I hazard a glance below her neck.
Holyyyyyyy shit.
Iris has one of those bodies. She’s one of those women men recall in perfect detail years after they’ve seen her. Even a glimpse would burn an impression into your memory. But to stop there is to literally skim the surface because under the fineness of her skin and the unflawed shape of her lives an opulence of spirit—a richness of strength you could overlook if you let her beauty distract you.
“August?” she asks for the second time.
I don’t know. Maybe she’s said my name five times, six. Maybe she’s snapped her fingers in my face. I’m so damn wide open for this woman, I’ve lost track of time and space just taking her in after so long.
“Yeah.” I smile down at her. “Hey.”
“Hey?” She shakes her head and presses a hand to her forehead as if that will help things make sense. “You’re not from human resources.”
“Uh, no. Not exactly.”
“Not at all.” She swallows, her dark brows pinched together. “I’m glad to see you, but—”
“I’m glad to see you, too,” I pounce on the positive. “You look . . . amazing, Iris.”
She blinks at me owlishly. If you’re a goddess-like owl, that is. “I’m glad to see you, but really confused,” she finishes. “What’s going on?”
“Well, Jared and I are brothers,” I say. “Stepbrothers, actually.”
“I don’t understand.” She takes a shallow breath. “Go on.”
“I didn’t realize you two even knew each other until the day before you disappeared.” I leave my last word dangling in the air. You know. In case she wants to elaborate on where she’s been for the past damn year or so and tell me why she never showed up again.
She tilts her chin up, silently telling me she’s the one demanding explanations right now.
“Yeah, so, the day before you disappeared,” I resume, “Jared picked me up from the community center and saw you. That’s when we pieced together how we both knew you.”
I smile, knowing there is more to say, but really just kind of losing my train of thought. We’re finally in the same room when I didn’t know if I’d ever see her again.
“And now I work here?” she asks, her brows lifted. “Isn’t there a lot you’re leaving out?”
“Isn’t there a lot you’re leaving out?” I ask right back. “Like why you wore Caleb’s ring, but said you weren’t engaged? Or how we kissed and I ate you out and you came in the closet, but then I never heard from you? Couldn’t find you anywhere? Are there some details you might want to share?”
It’s only in the silence tightening around us that I realize that underneath my rampant desire to fuck Iris, to hold her possibly for the rest of my life and never let her go, I’m also a little pissed. Well, now we both know.
“You first.” A muscle flexes along the delicate line of her jaw. “Why am I here, August?” She clasps her hands together in front of her, her eyes fixed on the Louisiana iris cupped in her palms.
“Is there even a job?” she asks.
“Of course there’s a job. I’m a silent partner in Elevation. Jared and I n
ever advertised our connection and decided he wouldn’t be my agent when I first came to the league, but we dreamed about this company for a long time.” I shrug and go on. “We were gonna wait, but my injury put everything in perspective and made me realize just how short this career can be. So we started it last year.”
“You own Elevation?”
“Part-owner, yeah. Jared handles all the business stuff. I’m just kind of our poster child to make other high-profile athletes want to work with us.”
“But Elevation is yours.” Her dark lashes flutter in quick blinks, and she bites the corner of her mouth. “Is that what you want me to be? Yours? I’m just here . . . for you?”
My first instinct is to bang my chest and say damn right she’s mine, but then I realize she doesn’t mean it in an I find cavemen sexy kind of way.
“Not like that.” I blow out an uneasy laugh.
When she looks back up, I hate the hurt and disappointment darkening her eyes, detracting from that glow she wore when I first saw her. And now I get it. That glow, it was pride—in herself.
When I graduated from college, I went to the NBA just months later, received a ridiculous amount of money, set up my home here in San Diego, became a brand, racked up endorsements, and now I have one of the highest-selling jerseys in the league.
She never had that.
Not the money or the fame of any of that shit. Most people never get that—the independence.
After college, Iris was pregnant and on bed rest, unable to earn money, then responsible for a baby, dependent on Caleb, and living in his house, guarded and kept. That’s the way she probably thought of it. The night we met she said she never wanted to be like her mother, a woman kept by men. On some level, she probably thinks that’s what she was.
The idea that she was standing on her own, making her own way, it made her glow.
And she thinks I’ve taken that from her.
“It all makes sense now.” She huffs a disparaging breath. “I’m such an idiot. I knew I shouldn’t have been able to afford a house in that neighborhood.”
