Her eyes pop open and then narrow. She smacks my chest, a wide grin stretching her mouth. “Just for that, I take it back.”
“Oh, yeah? It’s like that?” I ask laughingly. “How you just gonna take it back?”
I pick her up, ignoring her laughing screeches, and deposit her on the hood of her car, standing between her spread legs. Our breaths hitch, part exertion, part passion. My thumbs discreetly trace the underside of her breasts, and her lashes drop over the desire growing in her eyes. Glancing around the empty parking lot, she slowly slides her hand down to the front of my sweatpants and grabs my dick through the thick cotton. I squeeze my eyes closed tight against a rush of carnal pleasure. I dip to take her mouth with mine, entangling our tongues. We shelter urgent touches between our bodies.
A door slams across the parking lot, and we look up to find one of the trainers getting out of his car, trying to pretend he doesn’t see us just about fucking on the hood of Iris’s car.
I clear my throat, looking up to find Iris’s eyes laughing back at me. We sober simultaneously. I’ll never forget this moment when I understood, truly understood, that the basketball and the money and the fame, they’re all great. Those words she just said to me, though, eclipse everything else.
“I can’t remember if I said I love you, too.” I look up at the sky, as if I’m trying to recall.
“You didn’t actually,” she says.
I cup her chin, bringing her close and kissing her slowly, tasting her love, those words still resting on her tongue.
“I love you,” I say against her lips, kissing down her chin and behind her ear and any place I can reach that won’t get us arrested for indecent exposure.
“We made a memory on the hood of my car,” she says, her eyes wide and pleased. “See? It’s not so bad.”
My smile drops, and I shake my head.
“No, babe. This car’s still a piece of shit.”
Iris
I’ve got a bad feeling about today, even though it’s Thanksgiving and I want everything to be perfect.
The last time I watched a Waves–Stingers game, August ended up with a broken leg, and within twenty-four hours I’d been raped and beaten unconscious.
But what’s there to worry about?
I can’t help but feel I’m tempting fate sitting here out in the open, like a tree in the middle of a lightning storm. In this scenario, I’m the tree. The thing that finally feels solid, has put down roots and is flourishing. Caleb is the lightning—always violent and ready to strike.
A sinkhole has been deepening in my stomach ever since August’s mother invited me for Thanksgiving dinner. The game is Waves versus Stingers in August’s hometown, so of course we’re here watching the game, minus Jared who’s skiing in Vail. Matt, August’s stepfather got called into the office for an emergency, but should be home in time to eat. I definitely wanted to accept his mother’s invitation to dinner, and I didn’t want to have to explain my hesitation about attending the game. I can’t without divulging more than I should. And maybe . . . just maybe I’m getting tired of living my life in shadows cast by Caleb.
“You okay, Iris?”
Susan Foster, August’s mother, studies me with some concern. She’s probably called my name several times with no response.
I tune back in to our surroundings. It’s pre-game, and we’re a few seats behind the Waves’ bench. Apparently, Susan always sits in the stands, and it would have been doubly awkward explaining that the first time we meet, I wanted to sit apart from her in a box.
The last time I was in this building I sat behind the Stingers’ bench. Sarai sat on my lap, just like she is now, but she was only a few months old. I have to keep reminding myself that Ramone isn’t watching over me—that I won’t go home with Caleb tonight and wake up tomorrow with bruises.
“Sorry.” I give her a smile that I hope reassures her. “Just thinking about Lo and hoping she makes it in okay.”
Lo is flying in from New York for Thanksgiving dinner with us at Mrs. Foster’s. She would have been here sooner if work hadn’t held her up in Prague.
“She’ll make it in just fine.” Mrs. Foster pats my hand and smiles kindly. “We’ll have dinner ready and all she’ll have to do is sit down to eat.”
“Thank you for inviting her. For inviting Sarai and me, too.”
“I’ve been wanting to meet you for a very long time, Iris.”
“You have?” I turn to her, surprise temporarily overshadowing my anxiety.
“August told me all about you long ago.”
“Long ago?” I shake my head and laugh as lightly as I can with a boulder sitting on my chest. “I don’t understand.”
“Well, he didn’t give me all the details,” she says hastily, her blue eyes teasing. “But he did say he thought he had found the right girl. This was when he stayed home for rehab.”
It would have been around the time we saw each other that week at the community center.
August and I didn’t see each other much until I moved to San Diego. What was it about me that struck him so powerfully? That made him think I might be the one after only a few encounters? Probably the same thing that urged my thoughts back to that first night we met time and time again—the thought of that night as the fork in the road, and of him as the path I should have chosen.
“I don’t know what to say,” I finally respond, my cheeks hot.
“I’m just glad it worked out. I’m glad to meet the girl who stole my son’s heart.” Mrs. Foster says. “And I couldn’t be happier.”
Neither could I.
The moment I’ve been dreading lands on me with crushing force. When Caleb’s team takes the floor for the pre-game shootaround, every nerve in my body screams for me to run. My internal alarm system warns me of danger. My muscles tense to the point of pain. I’m braced for a confrontation of wills, but when Caleb looks up into the stands and sees me, he smiles. He’s at the opposite end of the floor. There’s so much distance between us—I should feel safe. But I could never feel safe with him in the same building. Some days I don’t feel safe knowing he’s on the same planet.
All of his teammates go through the pre-game warm-up, but he just stands and stares. His smile grows wider the longer I stare back. He shifts his glance to Sarai in my lap, and the smile falls away. His eyes, when they return to me, promise retribution. That one day, he’ll make me pay.
“Iris!” August calls from just beyond the bench, down on the floor.
As soon as I see him, my body relaxes. The tension dissipates. At the other end of the court is my dark past—a nightmare I barely survived. My future stands in front of me. And it’s so bright. August is so bright. We share a smile before he starts his pre-game shootaround and joins his team.
He asked if I was sure I wanted to come today. He doesn’t know everything that happened with Caleb. In the grand scheme of things, he knows almost nothing, but he knew today would be difficult for me. I’m so damn tired of running, though. For a long time, I was Caleb’s marionette, but he doesn’t pull the strings anymore. My boyfriend’s mother wanted to meet me; wanted to meet my daughter; wanted to sit beside her son’s girlfriend and watch him play on Thanksgiving. Maybe I’ll regret it, but right now, I’m glad that at least I tried.