“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.

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 get to 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.”

47

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.