Page 132 of Places I've Never Been

“Dammit, I don’t want it by myself. I want my sisters with me. I wantyouwith me. Come on, Piper. Let’s get back together. Please?”

Piper’s will almost buckled at the look of pleading in her sister’s tear-filled eyes.

Almost.

She squeezed Della’s shoulder and then let go. “Look, I meant what I said. The past is the past. I’m your sister and your friend, and that’s enough.”

“Enough?”

Piper gave her little sister a half hug. “Love you, but the answer is no.”

“Piper—”

She cut off whatever Della had been going to say.

“See you later. Stay as long as you want. I’ll have Romi lock up after you leave.”

Piper rushed out the door and shut it before Della could say anything else. The last thing she saw was Della’s stunned face.

When she pulled onto the freeway, she glanced at the time. Ten forty-five. She was supposed to be there at eleven.

She swore at the clock, the traffic, and herself, and sped up.

“Wouldyou stop hassling me and just play?” Blake Ryan, child star turned teen heartthrob turned Hollywood’s Hottest Leading Man, according to the magazines, bounced the basketball once, then passed it to his best friend, Marshall, with a little more force than he intended.

“Ouch. I strike a nerve?” Marshall spun the ball in his hand, then threw it back to Blake.

Marshall’s blond hair was already matted to his forehead, and sweat poured down the side of his angular face. Marshall had been number three on the Hottest Men list the year Blake hit number one. “All I said was it seems like you’re avoiding something. Or someone. Maybe both.”

“I’m not avoiding anything.” Blake dribbled the ball and edged to the right. “I’m getting mentally prepared for an important project with a little court time.”

“Give me a break.” Marshall shifted to the right to keep himself between Blake and the basket. “We wouldn’t be out here in hell’s furnace if you weren’t bent out of shape about something. I mean, your backyard is great, don’t get me wrong, but I’d rather be in the pool, not sweating on the court just as the sun starts to boil. So what’re we doing here? Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

Blake grimaced. He was trying not to think about it, which was exactly why he’d called Marshall over for a little one on one.

Damn the man for knowing him so well.

Time to change the subject. “How’d it go with Kellie last night?”

He lunged to the left, but Marshall was too quick and blocked him before he could edge closer to the basket.

“Nice try, man,” Marshall teased. “I’m not that easy. You can’t fake me.”

Marshall whipped his hand around to steal the ball.

Blake blocked with his shoulder, twisted around to the right, and took the shot. The ball swished through the net, then bounced off the court and rolled to a stop near the twelve-foot-high stone fence.

“You’re absolutely that easy.” Blake ran after it.

Marshall bent over with his hands on his knees to catch hisbreath while he waited. “Yeah, I really am. Still, last night was a bust. She had to go to the hospital.”

Blake grabbed the ball and carried it back to the court. “You get her tangled in that sex swing again?”

“It’s not a sex swing, you pervert, it’s a hammock, and no. Her sister went into labor. She wanted me to go to the hospital with her to see the baby.” His friend shuddered.

“How’d you wriggle out of that?” Blake asked.

They switched places so Marshall could be on offense.

---