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“If you trust them, it works for me. Thanks, Jackson.”
Cutting across the basketball court, I reply, “No problem. Have a good weekend.”
As soon as I pull my phone from my ear, Rad asks, “You up for another game?”
We understand that business tops time on the court, so we don’t generally give each other too hard of a time when we have to take a call. It’s part of the job description when we signed up, and we all get fucked out of a game here and there. “One more game?”
“Me against the two of you?”
Bent over trying to catch his breath, Cade chuckles. “Cocky as ever, dude.” He waves us off. “I’m sitting this one out. You and Rad go ahead.”
Rad laughs as he throws the ball to me. “He can’t hang like he used to.”
I turn and shoot, banking the ball. Rad runs to retrieve it. Taking it, he does a layup. I’m thinking we’re not going to play to score but fuck around, which is probably best. I’m still thinking about the secret Marlow shared with me.
After Rad throws the ball to me again, I dribble to the bench courtside. Overheated and red in the face, Cade wipes the sweat from his forehead but looks up. “What are you and Cammie doing tonight?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know.”
“What about going out to dinner instead of brunch tomorrow?”
“It’s been a while since we’ve gone out on a Saturday night. I know she’d like that. I’ll talk to her when I get home.” Resting back against the wood-planked wall with a smirk in place, he nods. “So you and Marlow, huh?”
It’s my turn to shrug. “She needed a place to stay.”
“It was nice of you to offer your bed.”
I throw the ball at him. “Funny guy.”
“What can I say? I’m funny.” When he tosses the ball in the air between us, I catch it.
“Are we playing?” Rad asks, getting annoyed from the court.
Cade stands. “Maybe one more game.”
He tries to swat the ball out of my hands, but I make a fast break and then sidestep around Rad to dunk it. “Piece of cake.”
Rad grabs the ball, throws it to Cade, and says, “Now try when I’m not on my phone.”
Fucking hell.
I stand when Marlow walks into the living room as if she didn’t just knock the breath right out of me. Long legs with black sky-high heels, the blue dress that matches her eyes hits mid-thigh and wraps over one shoulder. Holding her bag in one hand, she spins. “How do I look?”
“I thought you wanted to go out?” I tease, hoping to the high heavens that this woman will change her mind and want to stay in . . . in bed, that is.
Her brows pull together in concern. “We are.” And then her expression loosens into a carefree smile. Beautiful. “Ah.” She laughs as she comes closer. Lifting to her toes, she kisses me.
“I wouldn’t be opposed to staying home with you looking that good.”
“Only good, St. James?” She straightens my jacket, picking a piece of lint from the lapel.
I grab her, pulling her against me so she can feel just how good I think she looks. Squeezing the rounds of that sweet ass, I take in her face. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and here she’s looking at me like I’m something special. What kind of crazy world do we live in? Her breathing shortens, and she says, “My lipstick is an all-day wear and stays on.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“It means I want to put it to the test. Kiss me, Jackson.”
I do as the lady requests. I kiss her and slide a hand into her hair. I tilt her head back so we can deepen it until our tongues are tangling, and our bodies are grinding against each other. “We can’t,” she says, pulling back and lowering her heels to the floor again. “I don’t want to miss this. We rarely go out on Saturdays as a group anymore. I’m sorry, do you mind?”
“No. I mean, yes.” I crack a smile. “I want to make love to you, but going out will be fun, too.”
Her eyes stare into mine as if she’s searching for a lie that she’ll never find. I said what I said about making love to her, and I meant it. She clutches her bag tight in her hands and then shoots me a mischievous grin before walking toward the door and slipping on her coat.
“Hey, Marlow?” Stopping to look back over her shoulder, she finds my eyes across the room. “You look beautiful.”
A sweet smile finds its rightful place, and she says, “Thanks.” Nodding toward the door, she holds out her hand. “You ready?”
“As ready as ever.”
I lock up, and we start down the short hall. I’ve already learned that we don’t take the stairs if she’s in heels, which is most of the time. I punch the button. Standing in silence isn’t awkward. We’ve found comfort in just being in each other’s presence.
