Ball’s In Your Court (Dallas Vipers Romance #1)

Chapter 1 Javonte

“Zea, why are we going to a children’s museum?” I glance over at my sister, my new sister that I just met midway through last season, as she sits behind the wheel of my very expensive car.

“I told you, we’re going to do some art.”

“I thought we were going to a studio. Somewhere legit. But this is not the kind of place I regularly attend.”

“Maybe you could find yourself a nice single mom to settle down with,” she says, as she revs a little too hard on the gas in my car.

“Slow down.”

“I’m doing the speed limit, and I’m trying to pass this car,” she argues.

“I don’t need to be on the news anymore. It’s the off-season, and I’m trying to keep a low profile.”

“You’re gonna be a big ass man up in this children’s museum painting with me, so low profile is out of the question.”

“I don’t know if I like you cussing like that,” I tell her.

“I’ve been cursing since I was eleven. My big NBA brother popping up out of the blue is not going to stop that.”

I glare at her and catch my reflection in the mirror. There’s no denying that she’s my sister.

She looks just like me. And she’s tall as fuck too.

“Why aren’t you out playing basketball today?”

“Because I like art. I like other things. We only need one star in the family, and that’s you, Javonte,” she says.

“Fair enough. I just don’t get why we gotta be at the children’s museum.”

“Because that’s where this painting experience is. Let it go.”

She pulls into a parking spot at the museum, and we get out. I’ve never even been to a children’s museum. There’s no point. I’m not a kid, and I don’t have any kids.

And I’d like to keep it that way. Hell, I don’t know if I want any in the future.

“We’re gonna paint teddy bears?”

She laughs and smacks my arm. “It’s an axolotl.”

“A what?”

“Oh, just come on,” she says. She grabs my arm and drags me into the entrance.

Inside, I can’t even act like I’m not a little in awe. This place is cool. There are little simulations of jobs. I’ve never been a cashier, but I kind of want to go ring something up right now with plastic food and those little baby shopping carts.

It’s a vibe. I’m feeling it.

Zea nudges me. “See? You lighten up like a little kid right here.”

I nudge her back, trying not to use all my strength and knock her down.

“Hey,” she yells.

“Hush. Don’t be acting like that.”

“You are so scared about your image.”

“Have you not seen me all over TMZ these past two years? Everything I do is scrutinized.”

“Well, you’re at a children’s museum. They’re not going to know who you are.”

“You wanna bet?”

“Yes,” she says. “A thousand dollars.”

I stop walking and look at her. “Wow.”

“What? You got it,” she says.

I shake my head and laugh. “All right. But if somebody recognizes me, do you have $1,000? Because you’re gonna lose.”

She takes my arm and drags me to the left, where I see a sign that is very familiar to me.

It says, Lit with Lily this way.

My heart sinks, and I stop walking.

This is Lily’s event. This is a Lit with Lily event, and my sister has me walking up in here wholly unprepared to be in her orbit again.

A thousand scenarios race through my head. Do I play it cool? Should I just focus on my sister? Act familiar? I don’t know how to walk in here.

And I don’t get a chance to decide because Zea is dragging me by my arm into the event.

It really is a little kid event. We’re in what looks like a birthday party room. The chairs are normal-sized, but there are some smaller ones around. I look at Zea, and she looks at me with an eyebrow raised and a grin on her face.

This is about to be some shit.

She signs us in, and we find a table that’s big enough for the both of us.

There are a lot of mothers and daughters here, in matching outfits, full of enthusiasm and smiles. Everyone’s here because they want to be.

I look at Zea. She looks just like those little kids, excited and ready.

“We have to get an apron,” she tells me, pulling my hand again.

I would think she’s ten right now instead of sixteen.

“I don’t think any of them are going to fit me,” I tell her.

“Nobody told you to dress like that. I told you we were doing art. How much does that shirt cost?”

I look down at my shirt. “I don’t know.”

She shakes her head. “You got too much damn money.”

That makes me laugh. “No such thing.”

She sucks her teeth and hands me an apron that has Lit with Lily’s logo on it, along with I don’t know how many colors of paint splotches.

I put the apron over my head, and Zea ties it in the back for me. I tie hers, and we get back to our little station.

I’ve been purposely not looking around for Lily. I still don’t have all my wits about me to be able to have something to say to her.

Other than...

Other than hi.

“Hey, welcome in,” a familiar, bright, cheery voice says.

I close my eyes, taking a deep breath, and turn around to face Lily.

“Oh my God, I love your classes. I see all of the stuff that you do online, and I’m not old enough to go to the adult classes, but I’m here at this one, and I can’t wait to paint this axolotl because it’s one of my favorite animals,” Zea says in one breath.

I pause and look at her.

“That’s a real animal?” I point over at the painting example we’re going to do. “I thought that was from a cartoon.”

Zea looks at Lily. Lily looks at Zea.

And they both shake their heads.

Lily puts her hand on Zea’s shoulder. “Thanks for coming out today. I hope you enjoy it.”

She walks away without saying anything to me. Hell, I might owe Zea $1000 by the end of this.

The actual class–the painting and instructions and stories she shares as she guides us through–is engaging as hell. I see why people love doing this and why they flock to her classes.

Lily has a quiet pull to her.

I don’t know how I missed that.

I have so many regrets when it comes to Lily. Number one was letting her go. I noticed she left, and I didn’t do a damn thing about it. And now it’s been over a year. She’s obviously vibing and thriving without me, and damn. I miss that girl.

She’s over there right now, showing people how to fling drops of paint onto their canvas to make it look like stars.

She’s so focused. And beautiful.

She’s so damn good at what she does.

And I never saw it.

“Why are you staring at her like that?” Zea interrupts me. “You know her?”

“I... something like that,” I tell her, sighing.

“She is pretty. Did you fuck it up?”

I turn my head to my little sister, who has such an unladylike mouth. “Stop cussing at me.”

“Boy, please,” she says. “Sometimes it just be like that. All right, if you fucked it up, you fucked it up. What are you gonna do to get it back?”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. How am I the oldest? How am I the adult? What am I supposed to do here? I can’t discipline her. I just met this girl.

She really is cussing a lot.

“Yeah,” I say. “I messed things up with her.”

“Don’t look like she misses you.”

I scoff, because she’s right. She doesn’t look like she misses me at all.

“That’s true,” I say. “It doesn’t look like she misses me.”

“You going to make her miss you?”

“I don’t know. I gotta think about it.”

“Well, you know what? She’s still acting like she don’t know you, so that doesn’t count. I want my money.” She reaches her hand out in front of me and wiggles her fingers.

“We can do this in the car. It’ll be weird if I just hand you a thousand dollars right here.”

“You got a thousand dollars in your pocket right now?”

“In my wallet, little girl. Yes, I have a thousand dollars in my wallet.”

“Why?” she asks, scrunching up her face.

I shrug. “Why not?”

“’Cause you could get robbed.”

“Have you seen me? Who’s going to rob me?”

She taps her thumb and pointer finger together. “You got a point, you got a point. Your axolotl looks weird, by the way.”

“All axolotls look weird,” I say, frowning at her.

“You got a bad attitude.”

“Me?” I say, raising my eyebrows. “I have a bad attitude?”

“Yeah. Maybe it’s ’cause old girl broke your heart, and now you can’t focus. I hope you get it together before the season starts.”

I put my hand on my heart. “God damn, Zea. All you got is daggers. Shit.”

A little girl next to me looks at me with huge eyes.

“I’m sorry, my bad. I’m sorry,” I say to the girl and her mother, then again to the girl.

I turn to Zea. She is cackling and shaking her head at me. “You are such a rookie.”

After the class ends, I work up my nerve to go talk to Lily. At least to say a proper hello and just see how she’s doing.

I leave my sister to scroll on her phone because she’s a teenager, and she’s never bored as long as she has that thing.

There are six little girls holding paintings of axolotls, displaying various levels of skill, but most of them are a mess. Lily is kneeling down, making eye contact with every child and complimenting each and every one of them for their artistic endeavors.

Damn.

I stand there through three kids, and it starts to feel weird.

She doesn’t even look up at me.

I look at her one more time and then pull myself away, back to my sister.

“You ready to go?” I ask her.

“You chickened out,” she says.

“No, she’s busy. I don’t feel like standing in line after a bunch of six-year-olds to talk to her. I have her number.”

“Then why haven’t you called her in all this time? How long ago were y’all together anyway?”

“More than a year. Can we go?”

“Yeah, yeah. You hold my painting,” she says, handing me her really, really nicely done axolotl.

“This is well done,” I tell her.

“I told you, I like art and shit.”

I pay my sister the $1,000 because Lily acted like she didn’t know me and no one else recognized me. Then I drop her off at home.

And once I’m home and in my bed, I do what I always do when I shouldn’t be doing it.

I scroll through old pictures.

Every so often, maybe once a month, I pull up all my pictures of Lily and just watch our relationship unfold in front of my eyes.

My last picture with her was at the party she left and never spoke to me again after.

She’s so pretty. So effortless.

I let out a deep breath and keep scrolling. Then I pull up our messages and see that the last message she sent me was explaining how she felt about being disrespected at the party.

I never replied.

God damn it.

I left her on read for over a year.

It’s no wonder she didn’t talk to me; I didn’t fight at all.

I close everything out, pinch the bridge of my nose, and close my eyes.

I really just let her go.

I can’t keep doing that.

Seeing her today lit that flame again inside of me.

I need to be around her.

I pull up Lit with Lily’s website and go to her events. She’s packed this week.

And I want to be there.

I don’t even read the descriptions. I just start signing up.

I’m not letting her walk away from me again.