CHAPTER 21 #3
“And I appreciate that, but don’t you have needs? Especially after games?”
I think about the four numbers I have in my phone that I keep in reserve if I do ever have to get rid of excess energy.
Four women who have all signed NDAs, four women that I really don’t know much about other than they fulfill a need when I have one because I haven’t had time to date…
or even the urge to. I don’t have a life that I really want to share with anyone.
I have baggage I don’t want people seeing or carrying.
I’m busy most of the time, and I’m set on autopilot so that I don’t ever have to think of anything outside my day-to-day life.
Hence why this whole “save the team” PR stunt has been way out of my comfort zone.
“My needs are nothing you have to worry about.”
She takes a bite of her taco, silent for a moment.
Does she have…needs? Is that what her questioning is about?
She said she’s been celibate since Peru, but does that mean…
does that mean she could fulfill her “needs” with Slutty Little Glasses?
There is no fucking way I’m asking her that, even though that idea will now eat me alive inside.
She pulls her phone out of her pocket before setting her taco down on the paper and pulling up the camera.
“Take a picture with me and our tacos?” She hands me her phone and smiles back at me, a pleading look in her eyes. But that smile, Jesus, it has so much power, the kind of power I’ve never experienced before. Because it has a hold on me.
The kind of hold that packs a powerful punch, like she could ask me anything with that smile attached, and I’d say yes.
To anything.
Phone in hand, I hold it out, then wrap my arm around her while she curls into my side and holds up her taco.
She fits so fucking perfectly.
Together, we smile at the camera, mine more of a smirk than a smile.
When I’m done, I hand the phone back to her and she says, “Look at you not rushing and taking your time.”
“Because I know you’d lambaste me if I didn’t.”
“You’re learning. I like that.”
I shake my head and devour my third taco before unwrapping my next one.
I drink half of a Topo Chico while she finishes her first taco.
We sit there in silence, eating together, staring out at the parking lot and the other food trucks.
A few people point our way, but for the most part, they keep to themselves… thankfully.
“Does it ever bother you? All the people watching you?”
“Barely notice it anymore,” I say. “Once you get used to it, it’s pretty easy to ignore.”
“Besides the little ones, right?”
I nod. “They’re my favorite, the young fans, because it almost seems like they have stars in their eyes, like talking to them will make their entire year.
I do my best to try to make a lasting impression, something they can hold on to, because you never know what their childhood might be like.
So that small interaction with me could mean the world to them.
It could change the trajectory of their life, and if I can make a positive impact like that, then I will bend over backward to make sure those fans get what they need from me. ”
“Wow,” she says, a little breathy. “That’s…that’s what I’m talking about.”
“What do you mean?”
She turns to me and takes my large hand between her two petite ones.
When I look her in the eyes, she says, “You put on such an indifferent…detached front, like you’re this Big Bad Wolf and no one should ever talk to you, but then you go and say things like that, and do things that don’t match that facade.
I know you don’t want it to happen, but I see right through you, Graydon St. John.
I see the real man that you are.” She rubs her thumb over my knuckles, the intimate touch making my stomach tie up in fucking knots.
“And you’re a good man, no matter how much you want me to think otherwise. You’re a good man.”
Then she sets my hand down and goes back to her taco, leaving me, well…speechless. Just like I was when she spouted off about the different sides she sees in me. The different man.
“The guy who makes sure my apartment is comfortable and stocked full of food. And the guy who makes sure that I have a ride, no matter where I’m going, and makes it his personal mission to drive me himself when he can. That’s who you don’t show to everyone.”
I don’t show that side of myself to anyone else because no one else inspires that.
But I’m not saying that. Ever.
“Thank you for the tacos and driving me home,” Maple says as I pull up to her apartment. “It wasn’t necessary, but you know that already. Glad we got a pic, though. We can use it tomorrow since we won’t see each other. Keep the fans coming back for more.”
I shake my head. “Such a weird fucking thing, but if it gets the front office to shoot rays of sunshine up my ass, then fine.”
She chuckles. “Do you like that? Rays of sunshine up your ass, Graydon?”
“Doesn’t hurt,” I say as she moves in closer, just like she does every time I drop her off.
She doesn’t want help out of the car when I drop her off, and I’ll respect that. I’m also not sure what I would really do if I walked her to her apartment. My truck is a safe zone. Almost neutral, which doesn’t allow much to happen, and with my mind whirling in confusion, it’s a good thing.
“Well, I’ll remember that if I ever find a way to harness the sun’s rays. I’ll be sure to shine them right up your ass.”
“That’s not…weird at all.”
She laughs again, and it’s such a sweet fucking sound. So innocent. And the way my body reacts to it, it’s as if it’s a sound I’ve always been meant to hear. It’s beautiful.
She’s beautiful.
“Anyway, thank you again.” She leans forward and places a soft kiss on my cheek. “Have a good night, Graydon.”
“You too,” I say as she shuffles out of the truck. With a wink, she shuts the door and heads to her apartment building, leaving me gripping my steering wheel tightly and wondering what the hell I’m doing.
I make the drive back to my apartment, park the truck in my garage, and am heading to my place to start doing my video reviews when my phone dings with a text.
I unlock my place and walk up the stairs as I pull my phone from my pocket. It’s a text from Maple.
I lean against the wall as I open it up and see a picture of her in a robe, with some sort of green cream on her face. I chuckle and read the text.
Maple: Just a little insight into my nighttime routine, you know, in case an interviewer ever asks. You know it gets wild here.
I make my way into my bedroom, where I strip down to my boxers, brush my teeth, and get ready for bed. I already took a shower after practice, so I don’t bother with another before I slip into bed.
I take a picture of myself and send it to her.
Graydon: Here’s mine. Then again, you’ve seen this before.
Maple: You know, it’s not fair that you can just go to bed like that.
Graydon: And here I was jealous that you look like you crawled out of a swamp, like the Loch Ness Monster’s distant cousin.
Maple: *GASP* How dare you.
Graydon: Tell me I’m wrong.
Maple: Not all of us can look picture-perfect, flashing our abs for the camera every night.
I smile to myself and text her back.
Graydon: Picture-perfect, huh?
Maple: Oh please, you know what you’re doing with those thirst traps.
Graydon: Would you classify those as thirst traps? Should I ask Martha Stewart, the flamingo?
Maple: OMG you remembered?
Graydon: Don’t make it weird.
Maple: LOL. Fine, no need to ask her. I can tell you, they’re the definition of a thirst trap.
Graydon: Nah, just a simple picture.
Maple: Graydon, if I know one thing for sure, not a single thing about you is simple.