Page 47
“Jett, I’m serious.”
“I’m not fucking anyone on the tour, dude.”
Growing tired of the back-and-forth, I swirl the rapidly cooling coffee in my mug.
“Hm. Sounds suspicious.”
Of course it sounds fucking suspicious, but I don’t want to tell my brother that I need this list because I’m too pussy to ask for the number of the only woman I’ve ever wanted to keep forever. When my phone vibrates against my ear, I can’t help the tilt of my cheek to find the source.
Just as I asked, Duke sent the list directly to my email.
“Thank you,” I mutter, already scrolling.
“Don’t make me regret it.”
I hold back a laugh and change the subject. “How are my little buddies?”
“Good, they’ve been doing JJ’s new kid’s camp. I think they’re dead set on playing travel ball this year.”
Sienna’s younger brother, JJ, is a point guard for the Tennessee Trailblazers, and officially Marz’s and Major’s, my nephews, newest obsession.
Football was the sport that bonded us all. We all played, but basketball was what Ivan and I loved most. This is a win for the two youngest of the Parker four. Regardless of what they play, they’ll always have the stands full of their biggest fans.
“Think they’ll be any good?”
“Yeah, they’re catching on fast; plus, it helps that they’re both fast approaching six feet tall. At this rate, they’ll be playing varsity in the eighth grade.”
Duke is a proud father, but the rest of us are just as proud as uncles. The legacy of our family doesn’t end with the four of us.
“Feels crazy to already be talking this way about them.”
Seems like yesterday, they were just babies.
Duke fills the other end of my speaker with a somber laugh. The airiness giving us both a moment to relive the past. Breaking the silence, a subtle beep taps through the other end of my line, an incoming call from Royce.
“Hey, this is Royce on the other end. Thanks for sending over the list.”
“Yeah, of course. If you need me, I’m here. Talk soon.”
Switching calls, the other end opens up. “Hello.”
“I won’t keep you— I’m busy,” he huffs out, his rough tone rockier than usual.
Who the fuck calls to tell you they’re busy?
Royce Parker.
“Just letting you know, the crew you’re flying booked a table tonight. I’ll put some free bottles on their reservation if you want.”
Being in Miami means nightlife like nobody’s business. Royce’s club, Private Landing, is one of the best in the city, and normally my first stop.
It’s a breeding ground for all my poor decisions.
However, a bad decision by the name of Fia Chandler doesn’t sound half bad.
“Yeah, I’ll be there. Make it top shelf, and from me.”
The warmth of something scandalous tingles up my spine. I’ve held on to the last time I saw her. Stuck in a daydream until the next chance I get to hear her voice. Looks like Little Miss Sofia isn’t going to be able to hide from me as much as she thinks.
