“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 never 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 anI find cavemen sexykind 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 womankeptby 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.”
Oh hell.
“You know I called on the house for rent next door. Just for shits and giggles, to see how much of a bargain I got.” Her laugh goes sour and cynical. “It was three times what I pay. That’s you, too? You did that?”
“Iris, let me explain.”
“And the daycare. You can explain that, too, right? How Elevation just happened to start on-site daycare for their employees when Jared hired me?”
I’m silent. I thought I was being awesome. I thought it would make her happy not to have to leave Sarai miles away. I wanted to make this easy for her, but somehow I’ve screwed it all up.
I have to make this right, to explain and drive out the disappointment clouding her eyes.
I breach the invisible wall of tension separating us by cupping her chin, tilting her face up so she can see the truth when I tell her. I’d do anything to restore that glow, that pride in herself that made her even more beautiful than I’ve ever seen her. “Iris, no.” My thumb strokes over one high cheekbone. “I can explain about the house and the daycare. I can explain everything.”
“I should be flattered you made up a job for me, huh?” Her eyes shimmer with unshed tears. “Men always seem to find good use for me, don’t they? What are my responsibilities exactly? Blow jobs under desks, quickies in the copy room? When do I start?” She drops to her knees in front of me and touches my belt. “Now?” Bitterness sets the lushness of her mouth into a hard line. “Or maybe you’d like to see the goods first?”
I’m stunned as she fumbles at the buttons holding her dress together, her fingers shaking as she undoes the top one and then another. The curve of her breasts swell over a black satin cup. I hate that my breath quickens and my dick stiffens at seeing even that much of her.
“I thought you’d like that,” she whispers, a tear splashing onto her hand.
“Stop, Iris,” I grit out. “It’s not supposed to be like this.”
“Like what?” Her fingers keep slipping buttons out of holes, revealing the taut line of her waist, the exaggerated curve from waist to hip. She’s so finely crafted, but I’d hate for her to think that’s all I want from her.
I go to my knees, still much taller than her, but at least now we’re on the same level. I quickly re-button her dress, ignoring the silky skin my knuckles brush over along the way. I cup her jaw and press our foreheads together. I gentle my grip on her, my displeasure and frustration softening when I feel her under my hands.
“You did this. I promise,” I say. “Jared had already given you the job before he even told me you called him.”
