Page 27 of The Baller

“Fuck off.”

“Dude, you’ll scare little kids.” Parker ruffled his hair, opened the fridge, and started removing items. “You’re the new bogeyman.”

“It’s possible no one will recognize him.”

As well as making coffee for each of us, Parker laid out eggs, milk, flour, mixing bowls, and a fruit plate I’d prepared yesterday when we had our groceries delivered. But that was his limit.

When he was done, he rounded the island and nudged me. “Move then.”

I peered over my coffee at him. “What?”

“Move. I’ve laid everything out for you. It’s breakfast time.”

I slowly sipped my coffee. “One day you’re going to have to learn how to make pancakes.”

“But today is not the day.”

I eased off the stool with a groan and a shake of my head; Parker took my spot the second my butt lifted off. Cracking the eggs into the bowl, I was whipping them up when I realized the kitchen was silent, and looked up to find the three of them staring at me. “What?”

“Are we going to talk about it?”

I poured out a cup of milk to mix with the eggs, adding Ace’s rejected banana, plus cinnamon and nutmeg, because otherwise I’d have to make a separate batch for Parker, which I couldn’t be fucked to do. “Talk about what?”

“Did you text her yet?”

“I didnot.” The flour got mixed in next. “And… I don’t know if I’m going to either.”

All three of them leaned across the island like they’d rehearsed it, with Ace acting as spokesperson. “Why?”

I put the bowl down, and grabbed the skillet to get it heating up. “Your face for one. Tanner’s limp, my shoulder, Parker’s cheek. This isn’t a girl I picked up after a game.”

“Whatddya mean?”

“She comes with armed guards,” I reasoned.

“She’s still hot,” Ace argued.

“She’s a student.”

“She’s over eighteen,” Parker added.

“She’s still a student,” I repeated, quickly following up with, “and a Phillies fan,” before Tanner could add his argument,but then a shrill whistle pierced the air.

“Everyone, stop talking.” Ace slashed a hand through the air, and his voice dropped to a whisper. “Lux, where’s your cell?”

“In my room,” I whispered back, wondering why the fuck we were whispering.

Ace snatched Tanner’s cell still in his hand, along with the other two from the island, including the one charging, and carried them over to the weird trunk we kept by the TV on the other side of the room. I think it contained blankets, but damn if I ever opened it.

“What are you doing?”

Ace closed the trunk and added the heavy stack of coffee table books on top, the ones our decorator said made the apartment look less bachelor-y.

He was back in the kitchen before he spoke again.

“What if they tapped our phones? They shouldn’t hear you deciding on whether or not you want to date the First Daughter.”

Tanner’s brows shot up. “You think they tapped our phones?”

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