Page 68 of Recipe for Temptation

Reese choked out a husky laugh that felt like a sob. “According to you and everyone else, I’ve been in love with him for years.”

Raina didn’t laugh. “You know what I mean.”

Reese closed her eyes as tears crowded her throat, making it ache. “I don’t know,” she whispered.

Raina was silent for a long moment. “What’re you going to do about Victor?”

Reese swallowed with difficulty. “I haven’t decided.”

“Well, you’d better decide soon,” her sister gently advised. “Because when he tunes in to Michael’s show on Wednesday and sees the two of you together, he’s going to realize that he’s already lost you.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Michael lowered his shoulder and drove to the basket, spinning away from his defender and dunking the ball so hard the rim vibrated in his hands.

“Game!” his teammates crowed, celebrating with whoops and high fives as Magnum Wolf wagged his head, disgusted with himself for getting torched on the play.

“Damn, bro, how you let him posterize you like that?” Mason Wolf complained. The Falcons’ star wide receiver was fiercely competitive and a perpetual sore loser. “We were so damn close to tying the game. You gotta block that shot.”

“Chill, Pipsqueak.” Grinning, Michael shook Magnum’s hand and gave him a shoulder bump. “Good game, man.”

“Nah, don’t lie to him. Dude got cooked.”

Magnum scowled at his younger brother. “I scored more buckets than you.”

“’Cause you ain’t play no defense,” Mason shot back. “Every time I looked around, Mike was breaking your ankles.”

Magnum waved him off. “Whatever, bum.”

Raucous laughter reverberated through the gym, which was located on the lower level of Manning Wolf’s biotech company. The indoor basketball court was one of many perks his employees enjoyed. It was Saturday, so the building was closed and mostly deserted, giving them the run of the place.

“It’s okay, son,” Stan Wolf consoled Magnum. “We all know you had a tough assignment guarding Mike. Let’s not forget he was All-American in high school, and there’s a reason he and Manny broke records at Morehouse.”

“I broke more,” Manning couldn’t resist grumbling.

“Aww,” Michael taunted. “You mad ’cause y’all lost?”

Manning flipped him the double bird.

Michael just laughed, wiping his sweaty brow with the hem of his shirt.

Quentin sidled up beside him, grinning as he slung an arm around his neck. “Thanks for the clutch win, bruh. You was hooping outta your mind today.”

“Like a man possessed.” Sterling grinned at Michael, a speculative gleam in his eyes. “Something on your mind, son?”

“Nope.” Shaking off Quentin’s arm, Michael followed the others to the bench and grabbed his water, downing half the bottle. He didn’t miss the knowing look that passed between his father, Quentin and Marcus. It set his teeth on edge.

But then, he’d been on edge all week, and it had everything to do with a certain dark-eyed siren who’d burrowed deep under his skin and rooted there.

He hadn’t seen or spoken to Reese since the morning after they slept together, when she’d basically reduced him to a glorified dildo. If any other woman had pulled that crap, he wouldn’t have given a single fuck.

But Reese wasn’t just some random hookup. She was the most compelling woman he’d ever met. Brilliant and fierce, sweet and vulnerable, selfless and compassionate, strong and brave, sexy and mesmerizing. She was special to him, and becoming more so with each passing day.

Which made her unavailability all the more aggravating.

Since driving her home on Wednesday, he’d been wound tighter than a junkie in rehab. He’d needed a distraction, an outlet for his pent-up frustration. His family’s monthly pickup game couldn’t have come at a better time.

His father and Quentin were right. He had played even more aggressively than usual. Abusing his opponents on the court helped him burn off some tension. But not enough. Not even close.

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