Chapter 12 #3
“I’m not sacrificing myself. I’m fighting. I just don’t want her caught up in whatever’s going to happen to me.”
Kim and a few others had drifted to the far end of the court, giving us space. I nodded downcourt and gave them two fingers, meaning give us a couple of minutes.
“Look, I like her, okay?” I said finally. “More than I expected to. More than I should, given the circumstances.”
Banks’s grin softened into something more genuine. “Good. You deserve some happiness in your life.”
“But if this goes badly—”
“Then you deal with it together. That’s how relationships work, Cole. You don’t get to decide unilaterally that you’re going to take all the damage so she doesn’t have to. That’s not protecting her. That’s just you being a control freak.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Tell me how you really feel.”
“I’m always gon’ be real.” Banks punched my shoulder. “Harper’s grown. Real grown. Let her make her own choices. If one of those choices is you, don’t fuck it up.”
I sucked my teeth. “So much easier said than done.”
“Everything worth having is. Ask me how I know.” Banks winked, then tossed me the ball. “Now can we please work off the humiliation of losing to plastics?”
I smirked. “Y’all lost to sorry ass plastics and now it’s my problem?”
“Yes. Now we beat them so badly they never want to play us again.”
We played three games. Trauma won two out of three, with me scoring the winning basket in the final game. By the time we were done, everyone was heaving hard breaths and dripping sweat.
“That’s more like it,” Banks said, high-fiving Kim. “Trauma’s back on top.”
I showered in the locker room and changed back into my street clothes. The parking garage was mostly empty, just a few cars scattered across the levels. I was halfway to my car when I saw her.
Bag slung over her shoulder, phone pressed to her ear, she looked exhausted—shoulders tight, face drawn. She was nodding at whatever the person on the other end was saying, her free hand rubbing her temple like she was fighting off a headache.
She hadn’t seen me yet. I could get in my car, drive away, give her space.
But watching her walk alone through the garage, looking like the weight of the world was pressing down on her shoulders… I couldn’t just leave.
I changed direction, heading toward her car instead of mine. She looked up as I got close, her eyes widening slightly. She said something into the phone—an excuse to get off—then lowered it.
“Cole…uhm, hi.”
“Hey. You alright?” I asked. “You look…”
“Like it was a long day?” She slipped her phone into her bag. “Yeah. You?”
“Had a fun conversation with Webb this afternoon.”
“Shit.” Harper glanced around the garage, checking for cameras, for people, for witnesses. Finding none, she moved closer. “How bad was it?”
“Bad enough. He made it clear the hospital expects me to play nice on Tuesday.”
“Did he at least pretend to have your back?”
“For a minute. Then it became clear he’s more worried about keeping his corner office than supporting his surgeons.”
Harper’s expression darkened. “I’m sorry. You deserve better than that.”
“It is what it is.” I shifted my weight, suddenly aware of how close we were standing. How alone we were. How much I wanted to close the remaining distance between us. “I talked to my dad afterward. He’s connecting me with an attorney.”
“Good.” Her expression brightened. “I…I think that’s a good move.
You shouldn’t alert anyone ahead of time that you’ve retained counsel.
I’ve been working on prep materials for you—questions they’re likely to ask, how to frame your answers, what landmines to avoid.
It would be a good thing to go over with your attorney. ”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yes, I did.” Her voice dropped lower. “I meant what I said. I’m not letting them sacrifice you.”
“Harper—”
She cut me off, stepping closer still. “And I know what Dr. Rice said to me, what the stakes are for both of us. But I’m not backing down on this.”
“Harper, I gotta tell you something.”
“Sure.”
“It’s killing me that I’m standing here in this parking lot at work when I want you in my arms. When I want to kiss the shit out of those lips, cameras be damned.
When I just want to hold you and tell you that you’re the first person in a long time to make me feel like I’m not fighting alone.
I’m just so tired of feeling like I’m alone, and I really appreciate you being an absolute dog with a fucking bone about this right now. ”
“I, uhm. You…shit.” She stuttered, then laughed, stomping a cute little booted foot. “The fuck am I supposed to say to that, Cole?”
“You’re supposed to tell me you have time for me tonight.”
She looked at me for a long moment, her teeth worrying her bottom lip. I could see her thinking, weighing options, calculating risks.
“It just so happens,” she finally said, “that I have about two tons of food that my mother sent me home with. Beef roast, mac and cheese, greens, cornbread. More than I can eat by myself.”
My brows rose a little higher at every new mention of food. “Sounds incredible.”
“It is. The problem is she can only cook for thirty people.” She pulled her keys from her bag. “I’ll text you my address. We can go through the prep materials while we eat.”
“Just go over prep materials?”
“Well…” Her smile turned into something warmer, more intimate. “We could pick up where we left off. If you’re interested.”
“I’m interested. What can I bring?”
She closed the space between us, then stood on her tiptoes to whisper in my ear.
“My goddamn panties.”