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.
“August, Caleb was . . .” She stops herself and looks off to the side, avoiding my eyes.
I’m on high alert. We never talk about him. That’s a blessing and a curse because even hearing her say his name drives me a little crazy.
“What about him?” My voice is about as pleasant as rat poison. I should fix that, but I can’t. When she doesn’t talk about him, I have questions. When she does, I’m a jealous prick.
“Nothing Caleb ever gave me was truly mine,” she says, biting her bottom lip. I want to gather her in my arms, but she’s stiff, and I sense she won’t continue if I touch her.
“He used everything against me to control me.” When she looks up at me, her eyes hold a million secrets, and I want to know every one of them.
“I know you signed an NDA,” I start.
“I did.”
“But,” I continue, “it feels like you and Caleb have these secrets that I know nothing about. All this stuff I’m not in on, and I hate it.”
She twists the line of her mouth into a hard curve. “The only thing Caleb and I have together is Sarai,” she says. “And I do everything I can to keep him away from her.”
She squeezes my hand and takes another step closer. “I want nothing from him, August, except to be left alone. I promise you that.”
She studies my face for a few seconds. “Do you believe me?”
“Yeah. I do.” I rub the ends of the braid hanging over her shoulder between my fingers. “You won’t find me complaining about Caleb not being in our lives.”
I should be careful. I don’t want to scare Iris off by making her think I expect her to share her life with me. To share her daughter with me. To move in with me soon. To marry me someday.
Though these are all the things I expect.
I just need to give her time to get used to them. I have to learn to temper my responses. I think I freak her out with the intensity of my feelings. I mean, I did once hit on her while she was breastfeeding.
That’s not intense at all.
“You said something this morning.” She’s back to studying the concrete.
“We said a lot of things this morning.” I draw and release a quick breath. “Which thing are we talking about?”
“You said I own your heart outright.”
In the tiny shred of silence that follows her words, I don’t know if I want to take it back or say it again in a hundred different ways.
“I’m sorry I didn’t . . .” She swallows and looks up at me, an apology in her eyes. “Well, that I didn’t respond or say anything back.”
“You don’t have to say anything. I get it.”
“No, you don’t get it.” She shakes her head, an impish smile curving her lips. “I should have said that I’d play you at the five.”
My blood is fizzing, like someone dropped an Alka Seltzer in my veins. Little pops and tiny explosions occur under my skin while I wait for her to continue. Iris and I have had too few moments alone together over the years, and that day in the gym playing HORSE was one of my favorites. Second, of course, to that kiss in the closet. I know what I meant when I said that. My heart goes loud and hard like a bass drum in my chest to think she might mean the same.
“I never realized how cryptic that was,” I say, tucking a few escaping tendrils of hair behind her ear. “Until right now when I’m trying to figure out if you mean what I think you do.”
She reaches up, framing my face between her hands, and I’ve never seen her more earnest. “I don’t want to be cryptic,” she says. “I’ll just say it so there’s no doubt.”
She folds her lips in and closes her eyes, taking a deep breath as if she’s preparing to jump out of a plane. “I love you, August.”
I doubt the world actually stops, because based on the laws of physics or whatever governs the Earth’s axis, that isn’t possible. That’s how it feels, though, when she says those words. Like all of creation has tuned in to hear this—a universal pause to acknowledge possibly the greatest moment of my life. Not winning the NCAA Championship or being drafted by the Waves. Not being Rookie of the Year. And when I finally win my ring, it won’t even compare. None of those things are as monumental as the words coming out of this beautiful little angel-witch who cast a spell on me the first time I saw her, one that has never worn off.
“I didn’t quite hear you,” I say, staring at the top of her head.