Page 54 of Power Play Pursuit

“I love roast,” I say, spooning another bite of chili. “I’ll be there.”

“Lovely,” Pam says, clasping her hands. Elizabeth just shakes her head, looking defeated.

We finish our chili, and after a glorious apple crumble for dessert, I even get to see some of Elizabeth’s baby pictures.

“Mom, stop,” Elizabeth pleads, pacing behind us. Pam, Richard, and I are sitting on the couch, the photo album spread on my lap. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” she says, stroking one of the photos. “You were the cutest baby. Just look at those chubby thighs.”

“Hey, do you remember when . . .” Richard starts reminiscing with Pam, and I turn to Elizabeth.

“Truly adorable,” I tease.

She pins me with a stare, then mouths the word “flirting.”

I shake my head, point at the picture, and mouth “baby.”

“Oh, look!” Pam says, startling me. “She was the cutest baby in the bath. Her hair used to curl—”

“And, that’s enough,” Elizabeth bursts, walking around the couch to grab the album. “Mom, you’re not showing my—you’re not showing James pictures of me naked.” She hugs the album against her chest, probably afraid one of her parents will wrestle her for it. Which, by the look on Pam’s face, isn’t that far-fetched.

“Oh, don’t make such a big deal about it,” Pam says with a sigh. “We can’t see anything embarrassing. Plus, you were six months old. It doesn’t look anything like that anymor—”

“Mom! Stop it.”

Covering up my chuckle with a cough, I finally say, “It’s all right, Pam. Thank you for showing me all those beautiful pictures, but I don’t want to invade Elizabeth’s privacy any further.”

“Thank you,” Elizabeth breathes out, still hugging the album.

We spend the rest of the night with no more baby pictures, just good conversation, and it’s exactly what I needed. A fun evening with people who don’t care about my fame and money. We talk about Rise & Grind, and I love how proud they are of their daughterand her accomplishments.

When it’s time to say goodbye, we leave with a large box of leftovers and long hugs that make me feel like I’m part of the family. I might linger a couple extra seconds on those hugs—after all, they’re my favorite thing—to soak in all the family vibes I can get.

“That was fun,” I say once we’re in the car. “Your parents are great.”

She buckles up. “Thanks. They are. I love them, even if they don’t understand boundaries sometimes.”

“Don’t worry,” I say with a chuckle as I put the car into drive. “I didn’t see anything.”

She wipes a hand over her forehead. “Phew!”

“And I’m excited for Roast Night. What can I bring—”

“Oh, no, you don’t really have to come,” she says, shifting in her seat. “Don’t worry. I’ll think of some excuse.”

“And rob me of a home-cooked meal? I don’t think so.” I throw her a pointed look. “Why are you so intent on keeping me away from your family?”

She arches an eyebrow. “Really? You still have to ask that after tonight?”

I laugh, shaking my head. “I think they’re amazing. They just love you, and they’re proud of you. That must feel nice.”

“It does. But I’m sure you know all about that. Your family must hold you to superstar standards, with all those trophies. And you’re one of the best players in the league.”

I grin. “Checking out my stats now, are you?”

She clears her throat. “No—I mean, I checked the other players’ stats too.”

I sigh, gripping the wheel a little tighter. I want to tell her the truth, but there's this fear gnawing at me—that once I say it, she’ll see me differently. I’m the goofy guy, the one who cracks jokes and makes light of serious situations. Despite my reservations, I decide to go for it. Elizabeth and I are close now, and opening up to her just feels . . . right. “Actually, I don’t really have a family anymore. My dad bailed on my mom before I was born. My mom followed suit soon after, running after him. Even before that, she was never big on having a kid and would leave me alone for hours.”

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