Page 131 of Off Season

Bailey wraps her arm around me. “You did good, little sis.”

“Do you know why gingers—”

“Quit while you’re ahead, Kam,” she interrupts.

I laugh. “Will do.”

We’re in the Uber on our way to the club when she says, “I forgot to tell you about my meeting with Reagan Daulton the other day.”

The morning before she went skydiving and then the big breakup, she was summoned to Reagan’s office without any explanation. With the emotions of her breakup, I forgot all about the meeting.

“Oh, right. What did she want?” I ask.

She nods toward the driver before leaning over and quietly saying, “She asked me not to tell anyone,” a rule which has never applied to us, “but she’s thinking about bringing a new basketball franchise to Philly.”

“Oh cool. More women’s sports. That’s awesome.”

She claps her hands excitedly. “I know. It will be great. It sounds like she’d rather wait another year to do it, but if she doesit now, she automatically gets the first pick in the upcoming draft.”

I nod in realization. “Sulley O’Shea?”

She smiles. “Yep.”

Sulley O’Shea is what the social media world would call a femininomenon. Kind of a superstar female phenom. She’s a college basketball player who’s breaking all kinds of records, bringing never-before-seen attention to the sport. Women’s college basketball is beating men’s college basketball in television ratings thanks to her. She’s become a media darling and the face of the sport. It seems like people are hopeful that when she enters professional basketball, it will boost the women’s league tremendously. She’s basically a marketing goldmine, and I’m sure every single team is dying to draft her. I understand Reagan wanting to change her timeline just to draft Sulley.

“That would put the team on the map right away. Why did she confide in you?”

“She’s concerned that Sulley is a small-town girl and Philly will be intimidating for her. She’s coming to visit in a few weeks. She thought with my basketball background and the fact that I’m a new athlete in Philly, I should be the one to show her around.”

I smile. “That’s a nice compliment to you, Bails. She’s putting a lot of faith in you.”

Bailey’s face beams. “I know. She offered to pay me, but I declined.”

“Why the hell would you decline money?”

She scrunches her face. “What if Sulley found out I was paid to spend time with her? She’d be hurt. Isn’t showing someone new around town simply the right thing to do?”

Have I mentioned that my sister is the best person I know?

I wrap my arm around her and pull her close. “You’re right. I learn how to be a better person from you every day. I love you.”

She giggles. “I learn from you every day too. For example, this morning you taught me the super useful fact that farts travel atseven miles per hour. I can honestly say I had never given any thought to how fast farts can travel.”

We both laugh. I offer, “Want another lesson?”

She nods.

“Female dragonflies are known to often fake their own death to avoid sex with male dragonflies.” In a squeaky voice, I say, “Oh no, here comes Chad, I need to play dead.” I close my eyes and let my head fall to the side with my tongue hanging out of the corner, feigning death.

Bails laughs uncontrollably as the Uber pulls up to the club. I’m so happy to see her smiling.

I’m looking forward to seeing the guys. It’s been a few weeks. I’m both excited and nervous for Cheetah to get home tomorrow, so a few drinks and a good time tonight will hopefully settle my nerves. We talk all the time, but I’m not sure where we stand. I know that I missed him more than I thought would be possible.

Despite the long line out front, the rope is lifted for us and we’re shown right into the club. Bailey and I have never once waited in line at a club or bar in our entire lives. We stopped getting carded at sixteen. The simple fact is that clubs like having attractive women in them. Being twins only ups the ante. Men are always fascinated with twins. I think it plays into some weird fantasies. We unashamedly take advantage of it.

We walk in and head straight to their normal booth. It’s always flanked by security, but all those guys know me by now and allow us to pass straight through.

I hear Daylen’s booming voice before I see him. The man has no volume control. He loudly says, “When a woman looks at you and puts her hair in a ponytail, there’s only one of two things about to happen. If you’re not sure which one it is, run.”

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