Page 423 of Ruthless Court

“I know.”

“He’s trying.”

“I know.”

“And if I bring you…”

Kane sits beside me.

The mattress dips.

“If you bring me, what?”

I look at him.

“You’d be the present under the tree.”

His mouth twitches.

“Excellent wrapping required.”

“Kane.”

“Sorry.”

I pull one knee closer.

“He wouldn't see me.”

That removes every trace of humor.

I keep going.

“He’d see you.”

“The basketball player.”

“Not just any basketball player.”

I gesture at him.

“You.”

“Devastating.”

“The Kane Haverhill.”

He waits.

“The point guard he watches on television. The future first-round pick. The guy whose film he’d probably have pulled up before we finished appetizers.”

Kane’s jaw shifts.

I hate saying it.

“It wouldn’t be about me coming home anymore.”

His voice is quiet.