CHAPTER 21
GRAYDON
OC: So are we going to talk about it?
Bennett: Thank fuck you texted because I didn’t want to be the first one.
OC: You know I will always be the first. I have no shame about it.
Bennett: You don’t have any shame about anything, hence why you told the entire Bay Area about sitting in giraffe dung.
OC: Hey, Gretchen said it was relatable and that it would help people like the team more.
Bennett: That or she was just trying to humiliate you.
OC: Whatever, if it helps me with jersey sales then I’ll wipe my embarrassed tears with my money.
Graydon: You didn’t have to describe the smell.
Bennett: The smell part wasn’t necessary.
OC: Might have pushed the envelope with the smell, but not ashamed of sharing the story.
Graydon: Clearly.
OC: Glad to see you’re texting back and not in prison, because the way you were snarling at Slutty Little Glasses had me concerned with your whereabouts tonight.
Bennett: I fear for Slutty Little Glasses.
OC: I know, I saw steam come out of Gray Gray’s nose.
Graydon: Do not fucking call me that.
Bennett: Why, man? Why would you try out a nickname?
OC: Just testing how close we are.
Graydon: We will never be close enough to have nicknames for each other.
OC: Shame, I kind of like Gray Gray. Anyway, what happened after you left us?
Bennett: I hate myself for wanting to know as well.
Graydon: I took her home after SLG tried to take her home himself. Don’t know what the fuck he was thinking. And then she said some things to me and kissed me on the cheek before she exited my truck.
OC: UHHH WHAT? Hold on. You’re just going to casually tell us that she kissed you?
Graydon: On the cheek. Don’t make a big deal about it.
OC: This is a HUGE deal.
Bennett: I mean, I wouldn’t say huge, but it’s something. Has she kissed you before?
Graydon: No.
OC: What did you do after she kissed you? Did you kiss her back? Pull her on your lap? Tell her that you have secret feelings for her?
Graydon: No, you idiot. I just…I don’t know. I was so stunned I really didn’t do anything.
OC: Stunned, our big fella was stunned. That’s kind of cute.
Graydon: It’s not cute.
Bennett: It’s a little cute.
Graydon: Bennett!
Bennett: I’m sorry but it is.
OC: Just admit, it was cute.
Graydon: Not admitting anything.
OC: At least tell us this: Did you like it?
Graydon: Would have liked it better if it was on my mouth.
OC: My nipples just got hard.
Bennett: Gross.
Graydon: And I’m done.
“You’re getting really good at that,” Maple says as she brushes up against me while I finish cleaning some more fucking dishes.
I glance at her, my brow raised, causing her to laugh. “The pink gloves were unnecessary.” I hold up the rubber gloves she made me wear in a picture for Flock and Tackle.
“Um, according to the one hundred comments so far, I think they were absolutely necessary.”
“Already?” I grumble, still hating this social media thing.
“Yeah. If you haven’t noticed, we’re kind of popular.”
“Great.” I offer her an eye roll.
She leans against the counter, watching me, arms folded over her chest. “How would you rate your first week of training camp?”
“Why are you asking me? I should ask you.” I finish scrubbing the last dish, rinse it, and then set it to the side to dry.
She skipped out on today, and I told her that I’d come to the zoo after I was done so I could take her home…like I’ve done every day this week. Luckily, Coach Keenan has been generous in allowing me to leave training camp in the evening as long as I keep up my video training.
Do I think it’s him being a nice guy? Absolutely not. I think it’s Welcott telling Keenan to ease up on me because, according to public opinion, I’ve been growing excitement around the season starting…apparently by washing dishes.
“It was…interesting.” She smiles up at me. Over the past few days, it seems as though we’ve found a bit of ease between the two of us. Not as much fighting, just the occasional temperature rise. “I’m really sore, but hopefully that will wear off at some point.”
“The eye is looking better.”
“Yeah, doesn’t hurt as much either.”
“Good,” I say awkwardly, because I don’t do this bullshit small-talk thing.
I would keep it quiet if it was my choice, but she hasn’t let me.
She keeps engaging me in conversation, whether it’s here, in the car, or at training camp, for fuck’s sake.
It’s everywhere, and I feel myself getting sucked into it without any escape.
“So what are you doing this weekend?”
“Camp,” I say. “Six days a week.”
Her cute nose crinkles. “Ugh, that’s not fun. At least you have Sunday. Are you going to do anything?”
My mind goes to my mom and my standing date with her during the off-season. Once the season starts, my schedule is more erratic, but I try to get in as many visits as I can. It’s not that she would really notice if I didn’t show up, but the thought of that makes my heart break.
“Uh, yeah.” I pull on the back of my neck, not elaborating.
“That wasn’t evasive at all.” She smirks and pokes my side. “You know you can’t go on any dates, right? You’re kind of attached to me right now.”
“Yeah, I’m aware,” I say.
“Okay, so what is it? Ooh, are you taking knitting classes on Sundays and you feel like it would be embarrassing to admit? Listen, Graydon, I’m here to tell you that if Tom Daley, the Olympic diver, can knit during the Olympics, you can knit during a game.
” She leans closer and whispers, “And I think the fans would find it endearing.”
“They wouldn’t,” I counter. “They’d be throwing beers at me and telling me to get my ass behind the line.”
“Well, I’d cheer you on to knit.”
“You coming to a game?” I ask, changing the subject from what I’m doing on Sundays.
“We’ve all talked about coming to a game,” Slutty Little Glasses says as he walks right into our conversation.
No one was talking to you, prick.
“Thought we could make a zoo thing out of it, right, Maple?” He stands next to her, far too close for my fucking liking.
“Yeah, we did. Thought it could be fun to cheer you on.”
The only person I want there is her.
And I want her wearing my jersey.
And I want her front row on the fifty-yard line.
“Not that we really know anything about football,” he jokes, making Maple laugh.
“No, we don’t.” She laughs some more. “We were joking earlier about how we just hope we cheer for the right team.”
They chuckle together and isn’t that just fucking adorable?
It’s not.
I hate him.
I hate that I have to see his stupid fucking face more often than I want.
I hate that he works here with her and they have inside jokes.
And I hate how close he feels he needs to be to her whenever I’m around. I’m surprised he doesn’t have his hand down her pants, claiming Peru rights.
“Anyway, something to look forward to,” Maple adds, clearly sensing my tension.
I push off the counter. “Ready to go?”
“Oh, right. Yup. Let me grab my bag real quick.”
She takes off, leaving me with Slutty Little Glasses, and he has the audacity to try to have a conversation with me.
“You like her, huh?”
“Great observation,” I say. “And good thing since she’s my girlfriend.”
He studies me for a moment, almost as if he’s attempting to intimidate me.
Pathetic.
And then after a few seconds, he says, “She might be your girlfriend…for now…”
Then with that, he takes off.
The fuck did he just say?
Did he just threaten me?
Me?
Does he know what I’m capable of? That I could easily snap his thigh clean off his body, grill it up, and eat it for a fucking appetizer?
“Ready?” Maple says, coming back into the room and preventing me from moving in on the dangerous thoughts brewing in my mind.
Lucky for him.
I turn away from where he exited, grab her bag from her like I’ve done every day this week, then lead her out to the parking lot toward my truck, irritation nearly eating me alive the entire walk.
For now…as if it’s even a competition. Like he has anything over me.
I open the door for her, help her in, and set her bag down on the floorboard. But this time, instead of leaving right away, I grab her seat belt and lean across her lap, buckling her in, letting my body invade her space, and soaking in the fact that I’m the one doing this, not her.
“Oh.” She chuckles nervously. “Full service, how…different.”
I remain where I am, inches away from her face. Her eyes search mine for answers, her tongue peeking out and wetting her lips.
“Are you not okay with that?” I ask.
“Um, no, it’s…it’s fine. You know, do what you want to do,” she rambles.
“If you like buckling me up, by all means, buckle away. I know you’re all about protection.
You know, helmets and…pads…and…probably condoms, right?
” Her eyes widen. “No, not condoms, I mean…I don’t know why I said that.
” She waves her hand cutely in front of her face. “Is it hot in here?”
Any other time, I might actually smile at that, but thanks to my annoyed state, her rambling rolls right off me as I lift away from her and shut her door, not saying a damn thing, and get in on my side.
“Want me to buckle you up?” she asks. I eye her sharply, basically telling her no with one unamused glare. “Yeah, didn’t think so.”
I start the truck, back out, then head out onto the road, Slutty Little Glasses on my mind.
For now.
He really fucking said “for now” as if he has some mastermind plan brewing that will magically make Maple dump me and go running into his arms.
Not that Maple and I are in a true relationship, but he doesn’t know that.
“Um, you seem tense,” Maple says.
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t seem fine.”
“I am,” I snap.
Jesus, man. Don’t take your anger out on her. Then again, didn’t she put us in this situation? A situation where now I think about her all the time? Where all I want to do is claim her in front of every goddamn man that even looks at her?
How the fuck did I even get here?
It feels like it happened in seconds.