Page 8 of Baller's Surprise Baby

I feel my heart pounding. This has been my only home since I was six years old. I hardly remember the trailer my mom and I lived in before I moved in with Aunt Sharon.

“Okay, so…things aren’t looking so good, huh?” I pull out a chair, feeling sick to my stomach but determined to find a way to help. Aunt Sharon must have known I’d take this approach. She just smiles at me sadly and reaches out a hand to pat my free one.

“Everly, dear, I don’t think I have a way to keep the house.”

I stare numbly at the stack of papers before us and think bitterly that cancer is still making us pay. She finally beat it, but it’s still there, worming its way into our lives and taking from us.

I blink bleary eyes and take a sip from my glass. Then, I take a deep breath and look back up at my aunt, not in any way ready to let go of my childhood home.

“Give me a few weeks, okay? I’m about to get my first paycheck soon, and once I have a couple more, we’ll have something to work with.” I can tell she isn’t one hundred percent convinced because she doesn’t say much, but I purse my lips and wait. Finally, she cracks a tiny smile and relents.

“Okay. Let’s see what happens.”

I breathe a sigh of relief even as I realize I need this job with the Mavericks more than ever now. Ryder better get used to me, because it’s official. I’m here to stay.

6

Ryder

“Ryder, how you doing today? Still with me?” Everly’s soothing voice pulls me out of my reverie, and I turn my head to see her standing with her camera in hand, head cocked to the side.

“What was that?”

She sighs and points toward the steam room.

“We’re all set up. You ready?”

I stand in my giant robe and march barefoot to my doom. Here goes nothing. Today we’re shooting at a local resort for a whole celebrity vacation vibe. I’m not sure how this fits into the documentary and the different articles surrounding the feature, but it would be awesome if I wasn’t constantly attracted to my photographer.

It’s been two weeks. Two weeks of taking myself in hand – literally – every night and finding a way to try to keep it professional every day. I’ve managed to drag my feet and annoy Everly at every turn, and the reality is this: I’ve spent all this time studying her, trying to get a reaction and in general dog her steps, while she’s been tough as old boots.

I’ve always gone for easy girls, amenable and ready-to-hop-in-my-car kind of girls. But a switch has flipped, and I don’t know what to think. Everly is the only one who can catch my eye these days, and meanwhile I’m not liking myself that much anymore, which is weird! I’ve pretty much always been in love with me, and I tend to get along best with others who love me too. So, I’m not sure what’s changing here, and to be perfectly honest…I don’t think I like it!

Today’s photo shoot happens to be by far the steamiest one we’ve done, and it will be the first time I fully drop the towel for Everly. I’m not really self-conscious about my dick because it’s never let me down, but just like the day Everly barged into my locker room two weeks ago, I find myself unexpectedly hesitant. I always take care of my partners in bed and give consideration to what they think, but somehow none of the women in my past feel like they matter anymore. Everly is the only one who matters now.

I let Tina and Everly guide me. I’ve already got my whole modesty bag on, and I stand where they tell me. The scene is a little piece of paradise, a small waterfall flowing over black obsidian rock, and they have me in a natural position, the way I might stand in the shower after a hard game. My hands are up on the wall, feet slightly spread to shoulder width and my head lowered to let the water spray hit me. They snap photos from the back and the side, careful to keep my modesty bag out of the line of sight where possible. Whenever it’s not possible, they’ll no doubt be editing it out. Nobody wants to see that! Okay, lots of people would like to see that, but it would never fly for the publication.

When we finally finish, I’m freaking exhausted. It was a hard day of play reviews and then weights and band training. The rest of the team already flew out this morning to the City of Angels in preparation for our game against the LA Lakers. Most of my training drills were done on my own today which sucks, but what’s really done me in has been spending the last hour and a half rigidly thinking about the most unsexual topics I can think of. I’ve found sandwiches and steaks have been most effective, but even those lost their power whenever Everly stepped in close.

In those moments, I found myself wondering how we got here. She’s the grown-up version of the little brat who drove me nuts playing fashion divas with my sister and leaving plastic kitchenware and jewellery laying everywhere, always sneaking into my room to play my Xbox when they were little. Then later as teens they were always emitting high-pitched giggles. There were the jokes, the annoying jabs that only little sisters can give, always tattling on something, always finding a way to embarrass a guy going through puberty.

But Everly isn’t my sister, and now she’s all fruity-smelling and her skin is dewy, her wide mouth a deep red with dimples framing it and slightly crooked teeth that I somehow find enchanting. Her hair is on the wavy side and tends to frizz up, so she often keeps it in a bun or pulled back, but when strands come loose, they float around her face in a hazy auburn frame that makes her feel so natural, so real and earthy and solid. I find myself wanting to know what she’s thinking behind the camera, hoping she’s as fascinated with me as I am with her, and then mentally slapping myself for wandering down that trail of thought.

When we finally wrap for the day, I turn and stride for the door without a word. I’m ready to get my junk out of this modesty sock, and I’m ready for a break. Two weeks of fighting this attraction has been gruelling.

Three hours later, I head through the local airport and into the players private lounge to wait for boarding. The team travels by private plane whenever possible. For scheduling reasons, it makes the most sense. Today I was double booked, so instead of flying on the normal team plane, they’ve chartered a smaller jet. I turn on my audio book and flip through our latest paraphernalia catalogue to see if I can snag something new for my dad and his friends.

After a while I find my mind drifting, so I pause the book and close my eyes. It’s going to be so nice to just relax and focus on the game. I feel like I’ve been obsessed ever since Everly handled me, and I’m really glad to get a little bit of space from her. When they announce that the plane is ready for boarding, I take a moment to stop by the airport bathrooms because, let’s face it. Chartered or not, plane bathrooms are no place for a man standing over six feet tall.

Boarding the little aircraft, I’m gratified to see the seating is all first-class lounge style, but there’s someone else on the flight plugging in a headset. When she glances up at me, I’m met with the same jade green eyes that have haunted my dreams these last two weeks.

Fantastic. That’s just great! I seriously can’t get a fucking break, can I? Blue Balls is doomed.

I have no idea what my face is conveying, but it can’t be good because the tentative smile Everly offers freezes and her brows lower. I realize that I’m rooted to my spot at the front entrance of the cabin, so I scoot further in and dump the small duffle I opted to keep with me.

“Hey Ev,” I offer gruffly. “Wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“Did you forget we’re filming the game?” I realize I’ve been in such a hurry to get away from her I haven’t been paying attention to anything but our individual photo shoots and interviews.

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