LONG SHOT: (A HOOPS Novel)

by Ryan, Kennedy

“Iris, if you need money, you can tell me.”

  My fingers pause over the keys and dread slicks the lining of my stomach like an oil spill. I really don’t want to go there with him. “I’ll keep that in mind.” I accidentally bump my little mound of bills and bend to retrieve them from the floor. When I sit back up, August is leaning forward, squinting at the screen.

  “Seriously?” He turns aggravated eyes on me. “That’s how much you make each month? Like everything?”

  My hackles rise at his tone and the implication that what I make isn’t enough. “It’s good money, August.”

  “No, it’s crap money, Iris.” He shakes his head, his expression resolute. “I’ll talk to Jared about bumping it up.”

  “You will do no such thing, August West.” I jump to my feet, outrage humming through me. “I don’t want more than any other entry-level employee.”

  “You’re my girl, Iris.”

  “Yeah, I am, so all the more reason for you to respect my wishes.” I fold my top lip against my bottom one. “Things are just a little tight because I want to take this online sports marketing certification Jared recommended.”

  “Well if Jared recommends it, Jared needs to pay for it.”

  “For everyone?” I roll my eyes. “Stop being—”

  “What? Concerned?” he cuts in. “I’m your boyfriend. Of course, I’m concerned.”

  The word “boyfriend” floats in the air like a feather, and I chart its course. We’ve been so happy the last few weeks. Things have been amazing, but we’re on the verge of our first fight, and we both know it.

  “Boyfriend, yes.” I prop on the edge of the dining room table. “Sugar Daddy, no. I need to stand on my own feet, August. Please don’t make this a big deal.”

  “I think it is a big deal if you need something and don’t feel like you can ask me for help.” He scoots to the edge of the seat so I’m within reach and rests his hands at my hips. “Baby, not sure if you heard, but I make a lot of money.”

  “Good for you,” I say. “You make yours. I’ll make mine.”

  “Are we not in a relationship?” His eyes, the color of a pending storm, search my face. “Did I misunderstand what we’re doing here?”

  “Of course we’re in a relationship, August.” I run a hand over the tension in my neck and brush a dark swathe of bed-hair back from his face.

  “And aren’t you there for me? When I lose a game? When you cook for me? When I need your help?”

  “Picking up your mail when you’re on a road trip is nothing.”

  “Yeah. Nothing. Like this little list of bills is nothing to me.” He gestures to my laptop. “Iris, do you have any idea how much money I make? Not the contract. That’s a drop in the bucket. The shoes. The video games. The endorsements. Baby, I can take care of your bills.”

  Some wound I thought healed, scabbed over, smarts. Everything in me resists taking money from him.

  “It’s bad enough you’re driving that piece-of-shit car,” he continues.

  “My car is not a piece of shit,” I counter, my voice turning brittle. “It runs perfectly fine and gets me where I need to go.”

  “But I could get you something really nice, dependable, and never even miss the money.”

  “Yeah, Caleb bought me a beautiful Mercedes,” I say bitterly, taking a few steps away. “But I found out fast that all of his gifts had strings attached.”

  “What the actual fuck, Iris?” His voice rumbles in the space I’ve put between us. “Are you comparing me to him? What we have to what you had with him?”

  “No, I—”

  “Are we only going to talk about him when it’s convenient for you to bring up and use against me in an argument?” he demands, his voice cooling off. “That’s kind of unfair since I have no context for what he did, how he behaved, or what happened. Since you won’t tell me shit, ever.”

  “We’ve talked about this.” I draw a calming breath, wanting to keep this from venturing into dangerous territory. “I signed an NDA.”

  “Whatever. Or maybe you just don’t want me to know what happened.”

  He’s partially right on that score. Why would I want him to know how Caleb ground me to dust? That I allowed that? No matter the reasons or the circumstances, he caged me like an animal, and now that I’m out, I don’t want to revisit my captivity.

  “I just need to do this for myself,” I say more softly. “I don’t want to owe anyone.”

  “Owe?” He runs his hands over his face and pushes out a frustrated breath. “If I ever give you a car … correction when I give you a car, because when that thing you’re driving dies, I will give you a car …” He closes the space between us and gathers both my hands in his against his chest. “When I give you something, it’s yours. You’ll own it, and no one can take it away from you. Not even me.” He bends to whisper in my ear, “The same way you own my heart, Iris. Outright.”

  It’s the closest we’ve come to saying the words, but something holds me back. I’ll never forget the night when I first tried to leave Caleb—the humiliation at the hotel. The credit cards denied. Seeing those flashing blue lights, being pulled over by the cops and accused of stealing the car, of kidnapping my own daughter. I’d thought Caleb and I had built something together, but it turned out he was working alone and setting a trap. I trusted someone else with my welfare, and they used it against me in the most unimaginable ways. I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to trust my and Sarai’s security to someone else again, even someone I love and who loves me.

  The silence stretching out after August’s subtle declaration grows cool and awkward. I don’t know what to say. If I press past my fears and tell him what I feel for him, what I really feel, will he use it against me? Deep down I know August isn’t Caleb, but some pain goes deeper than what we know. It fundamentally changes who we are and how we live, and it’s beyond the reach of reason.

  “Mommy.”

  August and I both turn to see Sarai, her dark hair ruffled and little fists twisting in her eyes. I walk over and pick her up.

  “Morning, baby.” I breathe in her little girl freshness.

  “Gus,” she says firmly, stretching her little arms toward him. He glances up at me, silently asking if it’s okay. I don’t like her waking up with a man in my house. I don’t want to confuse her, but I know there’s a bond forming between them. I don’t want to take that away. I offer a terse nod.

  “Hey, princess,” he says softly, scooping her up and pressing his forehead to hers. “What are you doing up?”

  She doesn’t answer but burrows her head into his neck, already blinking drowsily and halfway back to sleep. Watching his tall frame travel back up the hall with her head resting on his shoulder twists my heart. I want to believe it, but it all feels too good to be true. August feels too good to be true, like Caleb did once. That boy who brought me coffee every day for weeks, wooing me, listening to me, and treating me kindly, he seemed too good to be true. But Caleb’s good wasn’t true. He was a cruel fraud—a mistake I made that may chase me for the rest of my life.

  I finish with the bills, noting the calls I need to make for extensions until my next paycheck. Closing the laptop, I check the time to see if I can grab a few winks before I have to be up for work. If August is still down to cuddle, I’m here for that.

  But when he re-enters the living room, he’s dressed in his San Diego Waves sweatshirt, a baseball cap, and his tennis shoes. Keys jingle in his hands.

  “I’m gonna go.” His eyes rove around the room like he’s checking for anything he may have left, but his glance skids over me. “I need to meet my trainer soon.”

  I know his schedule. He has plenty of time.

  “August, I—”

  “Just … it’s okay, Iris.” He walks toward the door, stopping only to drop a kiss on the top of my head. “Let’s talk later when we’re both …” He shakes his head, pulling his cap lower over his hair. “Let’s just talk later.”

  The door closes be
hind him.

  45

  Iris

  The client Jared asked me to follow up with decided not to sign. I received an email reminding me that the money for the online sports certification is due today, and I don’t have it. The daycare called me out of a meeting because Sarai bit some kid. I had to review a fifty-page contract Jared needed “like yesterday” … in five minutes.

  It’s a day from hell, and it’s not even noon yet.

  My email alert dings, distracting me from the branding strategy Jared asked me to tweak for a soccer player who recently signed. I open the email from human resources, and my blood pressure soars. I’m up and charging down the hall, knocking on Jared’s office door before I give myself time to cool off.

  “Iris, hey,” he says, glancing up from his laptop. “Come on in.”

  “Can I ask you …” My words falter. “Did August …” Shit. I know he did this, but it sounds ridiculous saying it aloud, and if I’m wrong, it will make things awkward between my boss and me.

  “The email from human resources,” I start again. “It said all entry-level employees are receiving a raise, effective immediately. That our next check will reflect the increase.”

  “Yes.” Jared sits back from his desk and links his hands on top of his head. “What about it?”

  “Did August do that?” I rush the question before I change my mind. “For me, I mean?”

  “I’m not in the habit of discussing high-level financial and human resources decisions with our entry-level employees.”

  “Of course.” Embarrassment heats my cheeks and twists my insides. “I’m sorry I bothered you.”

  I back out of the door, but his voice stops me.

  “Iris,” he says. “Wait a second.”

  I force myself to meet his eyes.

  “I’ve never seen my brother like this about anyone.” He rests his elbows on the desk. “Not just since you’ve come here, but even before, when you were still with Caleb.”

  “Oh, well, I—”

  “Don’t hurt him.”

  I search the stern expression on his face. “Me?” I touch my chest. “Hurt him?”

  “When he asked me about increasing the entry-level pay at five o’clock this morning,” he says, pausing to give me a pointed look, “thanks to you both for that, by the way. Because who needs more than five hours of sleep?”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “When he called,” Jared continues, blasting past my apology, “he seemed to think it was going to piss you off but said it was the only way to help you, and he won’t stand by watching you struggle.”

  Tears spring to my eyes. How much did that cost him? Or this company? I said I didn’t want anything all the other entry-level employees didn’t have, and he gave them all raises so I’d feel better about accepting his help? Would a man who secretly meant me harm do that?

  No. And it’s no secret August loves me.

  There are many things that may always have to remain a secret between us, but how I feel about him shouldn’t be one of them.

  46

  August

  “Good run,” Kenan says, slamming his locker closed. “You’re getting better, Rook.”

  “I’m pretty sure a player in his third season,” I say, closing my locker, too, “is no longer considered a rookie.”

  “It’s got such a ring to it, though.” Kenan’s deep chuckle rumbling in that massive chest of his coaxes a grin to my lips.

  “Why were you in a shitty mood today, West?” Valdez, the back-up point guard, asks. I suspect he resents me at least a little. He’s been in the league for a decade and probably doesn’t appreciate playing behind me.

  Oh, well. It’s like that sometimes.

  “It’s a chick, huh?” Valdez asks with a taunting grin. “That tennis player? Pippa Lee?”

  “I doubt Iris would appreciate that.” Kenan laughs and hefts his duffle bag on his shoulder.

  “Iris?” Valdez’s eyebrows rise dramatically. “I heard Caleb Bradley’s baby’s mama, Iris DuPree, lives here now. You don’t mean that Iris?”

  My teeth clench. I already know this conversation’s gonna go to shit if he starts with Caleb. I just look at him and walk past, deciding it’s better not to respond. Iris won’t even tell me half of what happened with Caleb. I’m certainly not discussing their relationship with this motherfucker, and there’s even less of a chance I want to discuss our relationship with him.

  “Wasn’t trying to start nothing, Rook,” Valdez says behind me.

  I ignore the name. Kenan teasing me that way is one thing. He and I have an understanding. I’m the face of the team, but he is the heart of it. His maturity and accomplishments have earned my respect, and he leads so well from behind. This dude—not so much.

  “I’d be careful if I were you is all I’m saying,” Valdez persists. “She already trapped one baller. Now she’s fucking you. Better wrap it up or you’ll be paying for some pussy for the rest of your life. Not worth it, no matter how good it might be.”

  His voice, his words behind me pause meaningfully.

  “And I’ve seen her,” he continues. “That looks like some good pussy.”

  I turn before I even realize it. His T-shirt is bunched in my fist. His face only inches from mine.

  “You crossed the line, motherfucker,” I grit out. “You ever talk about her like that again, you’re gone.”

  “What the—”

  “Don’t act like it can’t happen.” I drop him but don’t step back. “You are here at my discretion, Valdez. One word to Deck and you’ll be traded, cut, whatever I say, and you know it.”

  “You son of a—”

  “Your game is adequate, at best, on a good night,” I snap. “You’re lucky to be drawing base pay, but if you ever talk about Iris again, you won’t even have that. Not here.”

  Resentment and bitterness twist his features. “Glad, tell this kid he better back up.”

  Kenan shrugs, adjusting the strap of his duffle as he stands by the locker room exit.

  “If he doesn’t follow through on the threat,” Kenan says, “I will. You don’t talk about a teammate’s girl like that. That’s how you get your shit messed up.” He cocks one dark brow. “And it’s the quickest way to ruin a team’s chemistry. That I can’t have. Not in this locker room.”

  Kenan would know. He’s still haunted by his ex’s affair with a teammate on his last squad. Valdez glances between the two of us, muttering and scowling, before stomping out of the locker room.

  “Thanks for having my back,” I mumble, my hands stinging with the need to punch a hole through that son of a bitch.

  “Nothing to it.” Kenan pauses. “But he might have a point. Chicks can make you believe anything when your dick is in their mouth.”

  I wheel on him, angry words queued up and ready to slice.

  “You better learn how to handle your shit better than that, Rook,” Kenan says calmly. He walks down the hall toward the exit, and I follow him. “If you can’t even take it from me, I’d hate to see you when we play Caleb and the Stingers on Thanksgiving Day.”

  My anger ebbs as I realize he’s testing me, and I’m failing.

  “You think there won’t be speculation when people find out you’re dating Caleb’s girl?”

  “She’s not his girl.” She’s mine.

  “She had his kid. I assume he’s still in their lives and supporting them financially.”

  “He’s not.” The opposite actually, which I still don’t understand and Iris still won’t tell me. We reach the exit and head toward the parking lot of the training facility.

  “For real?” He turns his lips down at the corners. “What’s that about?”

  “I don’t know. She …”

  Iris’s piece-of-shit car, the one we argued about this morning, is parked beside my truck. She’s leaning against the hood, watching us walk up.

  “Speak of the devil,” Kenan says under his breath, then speaks loud enough for her to hear. �
��Hey, Iris. Good to see you again.”

  “Hi, Kenan.” She glances between the two of us quickly, biting her lip when she meets my eyes. “Hey, August.”

  “When’s your cousin coming back in town?” Kenan asks before I can speak.

  Iris and I both turn shocked looks on him. Since his wife showed her ass cheating on him and is putting him through hell in custody court, Kenan is notoriously gun-shy when it comes to women. I mean, I’m sure he’s getting ass somewhere. A baller bouncing from city to city—that’s not hard to do. But for him to ask about a girl? A real girl? Unusual.

  “Um, you mean Lotus?” Iris asks, just to make sure.

  “Yeah, I think that was her name.” He shrugs as if he’s not sure, except Kenan is always sure of everything.

  “I guess … I’ll probably see her at Thanksgiving.”

  “Cool,” he says with a nod.

  “Should I, um, I don’t know,” Iris says, “tell her you said hi?”

  “No.” He looks at her strangely. “Why would you do that?”

  Iris and I exchange a look, and I give a subtle shake of my head, telling her not to try and figure out Kenan.

  “I’ll see you on the plane tomorrow, Rook,” Kenan says, walking toward his truck. “Don’t be late.”

  Once he’s gone, Iris and I stare down at the same patch of concrete. I assume she found out about the raise and is here to rip me a new one. What-the-hell-ever. There’s no way I’ll stand back and watch her struggle raising Sarai by herself on that measly paycheck.

  “I got a raise today,” she finally says softly.

  “Oh yeah?” I drop my duffle bag to the ground and cross my arms over my chest. “That’s nice.”

  “It was more than nice.” She looks up, a slight smile on her face. “It was kind. It was more than I deserved after I was so ungracious.”

  I hope she doesn’t expect me to stop her.

  “Thank you, August.” She reaches for my hand and holds my eyes with hers. “I’m sorry I was so hard to help.”

  “So is Jared.” I laugh, but he really was ready to disembowel me when I called demanding a raise for all the entry levels.

  The laughter fades, and we’re back to awkward. I wanted Iris for years and thought if I ever got my shot, we’d never run out of things to say. I don’t want to say the wrong thing, something that would drive a wedge between us. We had our first fight, but I’ve never been happier than I am with her.