Page 132 of The Baller

“I love him, Mom.”

“I thought you might.”

I scooched closer to her, until I could lean on her chest and wrap my arms around her. “I love you, Momma. Thank you for coming up here.”

“I love you, too.” She stroked her hands through my hair, just like she always used to do. “Do you want to go and find your boyfriend so you can introduce me properly before I have to leave?”

I nodded, my heart suddenly filling with so much gratitude and appreciation for the effort she’d made to get here. I shot off a text to Lux, and less than three minutes later, the elevator doors opened and out he strode.

Broad, tall, purposeful, but always with a kindness in his eyes that softened the hard line of his jaw, and made him immeasurably kissable. It was there the first time I’d spun around on the stool and saw him, and it was there now.

There would never be a time when he didn’t take my breath away.

Leaning into the brief kiss he dropped on my cheek, I took his hand and led him across the room to where my mom was. There was nothing but calm where my heart had previously been hammering.

“Mom, I’d like you to meet my boyfriend, Lux Weston.” I gestured forward and continued, “Babe, this is my mom, Emily Andrews.”

There was no recognition of having met before, no nerves, no flicker of acknowledgement to what their conversation had been before I arrived, just Lux, thrusting out his big hand.

“It’s good to meet you, Emily. I’m a big fan of your daughter.”

She smiled, followed with a slow nod. “Me too, Lux, and I’m happy I’ve finally met you. Come down and visit us in D.C. and I’ll make sure my sons are on their best behavior.”

“I’d like that.”

Her eyes quickly shot to mine and back. “Maybe I can have a word with the Phillies about a transfer.”

Lux’s laugh roared out. “Thank you, Ma’am, but until Radley decides where she goes after graduation, I’m staying in New York.”

“Just as long as you remember that the Secret Service works for me, and they could probably find a dozen ways to hide your body.”

Lux didn’t even flinch, just wrapped his arm around me and looked straight at my mom.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

TWENTY-SEVEN

RADLEY

“Where are we going?”

Lux’s hand squeezed my thigh where it had been resting since we got in the car. “Stop being so impatient. We’ll be there in two minutes. You can wait two minutes.”

I sat up straighter, searching for anywhere I recognized, but there wasn’t much beyond the traffic;so muchtraffic. It was worse than normal due to Times Square being closed for the ball drop, but as I was usually in the back of an agent’s car, and had spent very little time driving around New York anyway, I was finding it hard to tell.

I glanced back down at my sneakers – my new Air Jordans – and traced my fingers along the pale blue swoosh.

On account of all the holiday drama, we’d forgotten to exchange our gifts, but when I woke up this morning, I found a box sitting on the pillow next to me, containing the cutest pair of sneakers. They matched the ones Lux was currently wearing, save for his name stitched into the tongue on mine, on account of “how much you love my tongue,” he’d said, before showing me exactlywhyI loved his tongue.

I found my name stitched into his.

Did we now match way more than we should? Yes.

Was it totally cheesy? Yes.

Did I care? Absolutely not.

My gift to him? It’s surprisingly – or not – hard to buy for boys, especially ones who seem to have everything, or can buy whatever they want. For weeks I’d been scouring the internet for inspiration, until one day in mid-December when I was typing up an essay for Professor Hawkes on modern romance, and how Shakespeare introduced his characters. Lux was lying in bed next to me, reading, and I was writing about Viola and Orsino, Romeo and Juliet, when it dawned on me that Lux and I had a story too.

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