Page 69 of The Baller

“Want me to call down to the concierge?” Parker asked from the depths of the fridge, before he turned around with both hands full with cilantro, limes, avocados, and cabbage which he dropped on the counter, then went back for a plate of Red Snapper.

Guess we were having fish tacos, and from the looks of it, slaw too.

“Make yourself useful.” I put another chopping board and knife in front of Tanner, along with the pile of limes, while Parker ran over to the elevator. “Hey, where are you going? I thought you wanted tacos?”

“Downstairs. I’m more persuasive in person!” he called out as the doors shut. “You got this. I’ll be back before they’re done.”

“He’s right,” Tanner said as he stuck his knife into a lime and bore down. “He is more persuasive in person.”

“Let’s hope he delivers then,” I replied, slicing up the cilantro and tossing it in a bowl.

Parker delivered. He was back sitting on the stool before the fish had cooked. The apartment one floor down was newly empty, and with a bit of negotiation, Parker had been given the access code for this weekend. A permanent solution could wait until Monday.

I served him a double portion of tacos.

“Hey, it’s the expensive highlighter.”

I spun around to find Radley standing in the archway leading down to my bedroom, wearing the trackpants and hoodie I’d left out for her – the orange ones. She looked down, and back to Tanner with a smile tugging at her lips.

I crossed the room, sliding the last few inches in my socks. Her hair was piled on top of her head, soft toffee-colored tendrils stuck to her fresh face, her cheeks still flushed from the bath, but more importantly, her eyes were no longer bloodshot. She smelled like lavender and eucalyptus, and I just about stopped myself from burying my face in her neck and breathing her in.

Instead, I bent down and pressed my lips to hers, softly, briefly, but just enough to savor the taste of her.

“Hey.”

“That’s some bath.” She smiled up at me, and just like that, almost all of the anxiety I’d built up this morning melted away.

“Yeah, I had to give Parker a year’s worth of movie privileges for it.”

Her head tipped with a little quirk of her lips. “What does that mean?”

“When we moved in, Parker won the master bedroom in a game of beer pong, but that bathtub would have been wasted on him, so I managed to convince him to trade with me if I gave him all my movie-night choosing privileges. It means we only watch Scorsese movies, but it was worth it.”

Radley let out another little laugh, louder this time. “It sure was.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Better, thank you. Hungry.”

I crooked my arm, looping hers through it. “Well then, come with me. Lunch is served.”

“Tacos?” she gasped as we reached the kitchen island, and had the unfortunate opportunity to witness Parker shoving an entire one into his mouth without chewing.

“Is that okay?”

“Yeah. I love tacos.”

“Then sit down.”

Tanner patted the stool next to him, and she slipped onto it. Parker passed her a plate, piling it up with slaw, chips, and three soft shell tacos.

“You’ll soon learn Weston is the best chef.”

“Thank you,” she giggled softly, while Parker kept spooning Taco filling until she had to whip her plate away.

To her credit, she didn’t seem an ounce self-conscious at the three of us staring at her, waiting for her reaction to her first bite. We were so engrossed, we didn’t even look up as the elevator doors pinged, because it could only be Ace coming home.

It wasn’t Ace.

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