Meet the Boys (Nolan U Basketball #1)

1. Charli

CHARLI

I dribble the ball on the driveway, spinning and taking a shot, smiling when it swooshes through the net.

Girl’s got game.

I laugh at the voice in my head and jump forward to retrieve the ball before it rolls into the street.

It’s a hot summer’s day, and I can hear the kids two doors down playing in their pool.

Their delighted screams and yells echo on our street.

I don’t mind it so much. I’m guessing cranky Mrs. Spindle across the road is hating every second of it.

What’s the bet that she’ll start blasting her classical music to counter it any second now.

With a snicker, I dribble the ball back to the hoop, aware that I’m adding to the noise pollution on our usually quiet street.

Mrs. Spindle is probably super pissed that Darian and I are home for a few weeks.

It’s our summer break; where the hell else does she expect us to go?

Sawyer’s just around the corner, and she’ll no doubt be grumbling about that too.

The three of us have gotten up to our own noisy trouble plenty of times.

Accelerating toward the hoop, I do a quick jump shot, tipping the ball into the hoop before landing with a grin.

Yes! I might be the shortest girl on my team, but I can jump like freaking Spider-Man.

That’s what Coach always tells me. She’s kind of gutted that I’m not gunning for the big leagues, but professional basketball has never been in the cards for me.

It was a way to get myself a scholarship to Nolan U, but ever since I found out what a physical therapist is, I’ve wanted to be one. I used to watch them working with my dad. The way they eased his pain, helped him manage in his wheelchair.

I want to help people that way too.

And as much as I love the game, I can never have the impact on the court that I could have off it, so it’s settled.

“Charli!” Darian bursts out the front door in nothing but a pair of Nuggets basketball shorts. His face is all lit up like he’s eight years old again and Mom just told us we could have dessert for dinner.

About once a month, she’d surprise us with this treat, and rather than having to eat meat and veggies, she’d make a chocolate lava cake or cherry pie for dinner. It was the best!

“You’re not gonna believe it!” He jumps, blocking my shot with a laugh.

I race after the ball, snatching it up and spinning with a quick three-pointer. It hits the rim, and I rush forward to catch it before Darian steals it off me.

“Mom’s making cherry pie for dinner,” I guess as I shoot for the hoop and get nothing but net.

Thank fuck for that.

For some reason, I always play worse when Darian’s watching me. I think it’s the pressure of trying to impress my big bro, who has always been taller and stronger than me—dammit!

“It’s waaaayyyyy better than that, sis. I swear, you’re gonna love it.”

“Okay.” I jump to block his shot, my fingers brushing the bottom of the ball and setting it off course enough to skim the rim. “Ha!” I laugh, and we race for the ball, tussling over that beloved orange-and-black sphere until Darian relents and lets me take another shot.

“Would you fucking guess already?” my brother complains. “I’m dying here.”

I snicker. “You could just tell me.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” His pointed look is kind of hilarious, and I shake my head.

For a sibling, Dee’s not half bad.

Okay, fine. He’s the best brother in the world, and I adore him. We’ve always gotten along great. We’re only a year apart, so we’ve grown up close, and thankfully we’re best friends.

But I really hate the guessing game. It’s a pain in the ass.

Shooting for the hoop again, I smile as it bounces off the backboard and into the net.

“Nice.” Darian catches the ball, and I hold my hands up, asking for it back.

“Not until you guess.”

Tipping my head back with a groan, I fire out a quick three to get this over with.

“You found five bucks in your jeans pocket.”

“Nope.”

“You finally convinced Dad to let you buy a PlayStation.”

He scoffs. “I’m twenty-one. I don’t need his permission to buy a fucking PlayStation.”

I smirk. He says that, but he doesn’t mean it.

If there’s any person on this planet who’s out to keep Daddy happy and proud, it’s my brother.

“Fine.” I hitch up my basketball shorts. “You managed to pee in the toilet without getting any on the floor.”

He rolls his eyes. “You officially suck at the guessing game.”

“Give me the ball back.” I clap my hands and flick my fingers, but he rests it against his leg, his Goliath hand holding it tight. “Dude!”

“Not until you guess!”

“I’ve already given you three. Just fucking tell me!” I flick my arms wide.

“You’re no fun.”

“I am the most fun!” I point at him. “When I’m not being irritated by my brother.”

He makes a face at me, and for a second, I think he’s about to turn around and tell me to forget it. But there’s no way he’ll be able to stand that—Darian is useless at keeping secrets—so I cross my arms and smirk at him.

“How big is this news? Are we talking serious big or Darian’s-overreacting-again big?”

“Serious big!” He bulges his eyes at me, hurling the ball at my chest.

I catch it with a laugh. “Okay, fine. What? What’s the big news?”

“We’ve got a house off campus.”

I go still, pausing my shot to gape at him. “You serious?”

“Yes!”

“Where?”

“About two blocks away from Eat Your Faves.”

“Hell yeah, baby!” I laugh, dropping the ball and leaping into his arms.

He spins me around before dumping me onto the grass. “Six bedrooms, three baths, two living areas, and a decent-sized basement.”

“How? When? Why? Tell me everything!” I jump up, brushing the back of my shorts and listening intently as he tells me all about Mom’s friend of a friend who has a place at Nolan U and how he’s looking for tenants.

“I’ve already told him we’ll take it.”

“What’s the rent?”

“Yeah, that’s the thing. There’s no way we can cover it. We’ll definitely have to fill the house.”

“That won’t be hard.” I shrug. “We know plenty of people wanting to get out of the dorms.” A bubble of excitement grows in my chest as I picture us living in this place. I’m so ready. I know I’ve only done one year in the dorms, but still! A house just off campus! This is going to be epic.

“I’ll post in the team group chat and see if any of the guys want to join us.”

I narrow my eyes. “Who?”

“Not sure.” His shoulder hitches. “Maybe Cash. He’s funny.”

“Ew, no.” I grimace. “I’ve seen the guy bite his toenails. That is so not happening.”

“Okay, so who should we ask, then?”

“Nix?” I suggest, but Darian pulls a face. I lightly slap his chest with the back of my hand. “What’s wrong with Nix?”

“She’s like a pit bull. Or a chihuahua. The ‘I might be tiny but I will bite your fucking hand off’ kind.”

I snort with laughter. “Only if you corner her. And it’d be nice to have another chick in the house.”

He rolls his eyes, scratching his jawline, which is the exact same shape as our dad’s. There’s no hiding the fact that they’re blood. He really took after our Hispanic father, whereas I scored most of my mom’s features. “Black and beautiful,” Dad always tells me. At least I got that part right.

I swear, if I didn’t look like my mom, I don’t know what Dad would think of me. I definitely don’t fit his profile of what a typical girl should act and sound like.

“We have to ask Sawyer.”

“Obviously,” I murmur, my brain running with possibilities.

I don’t really want to suggest anyone from my team.

Not that I don’t love my teammates, but I wouldn’t want to live with any of them.

I’d much rather live in a house full of guys.

That’s way less complicated. And yes, I did suggest Nix, but she’s the exception to the rule.

I didn’t grow up with friends who were girls.

I’ve always gravitated toward the guys. They’re fun and easy to be around. I’ve always related better to them.

But Nix is special.

I can’t even tell you why.

We just met last year and clicked.

And I wouldn’t mind living with her. It’d be fun.

Now we just need to think of two other people to fill the spaces.

“What about Enzo?” I ask.

Darian wrinkles his nose.

“What’s wrong with Enzo?”

Seriously! My brother is so freaking picky!

He shakes his head, and I start laughing at him. “Are you still pissed that he got to that girl before you did? The boy’s got game.”

Darian’s black eyebrows dip into a sharp V. “The boy got lucky.”

“Very lucky.” I snort.

Darian lightly shoves me, but I catch myself before I fall. Pinging right back, I punch his arm, then yell when he grabs me and tackles me to the ground. Our usual play fight ensues, and he’s about to face-plant me into the grass when our mother calls from the front door.

“Enough.” Her voice is quiet but firm. “Dinner’s ready. Let’s go.”

Darian shoves my face into the lawn as he stands, so I stick out my foot to trip him up when he walks toward the house.

He snickers and jumps out of the way before falling over.

The guy’s light on his feet. Dammit.

I stand up and trail my giant brother inside.

He’s reached six-four now. At one point, Mom was convinced he’d never stop growing, but he’s been this height since he was seventeen and hasn’t budged.

I stopped at five-ten when I was fifteen.

I may have been one of the tallest girls in my class in high school, but I’m actually the smallest girl on my college basketball team.

“Wash up,” Mom calls over her shoulder, and we take turns in the downstairs bathroom washing our hands before taking our seats at the table.

Dad wheels himself up to the end and looks us over, winking at Darian, then eyeing me up before smiling at me.

I internally tense, yanking out my chair and taking a seat. Glancing down at my baggy shirt, I spot the stain Dad was probably noticing and pull my chair in so he can’t see it.

So I’m a messy slob. Get over it!

Holding out his hands, Dad quietly insists we say grace together. “Bendice, Senor, estos alimentos que por tu bondad vamos a tomar. Amén.”

“Amén,” we all say in unison before Mom starts passing around the food.