CHAPTER 41
MAPLE
“Will people judge me if I make my own sundae?” I ask as I eye the ice cream and toppings.
“If they do, they’ll be eating my fucking fist for dessert.”
“Is there ever a time when you don’t have violent thoughts?”
“It’s rare.” He moves in behind me and places his hands on my hips, then kisses my neck.
I tilt my head just enough to give him better access even though I know I shouldn’t. I know I should shrug him off since we’re in public and technically at a work event, but I don’t want to push him away. I don’t want to stop him, not when he’s so loving like this.
So affectionate.
And I know he’s been missing that in his life. So, because he so freely gives it to me, I never want to make him stop or feel insecure about it.
“How about I just have you for dessert?” he whispers into my ear.
“I’m all for it. How about right here, on top of all the desserts, we give everyone who’s been staring an actual show?”
“There’ve been people staring?” he asks, moving his mouth back up to right below my ear.
“All night,” I whisper and then sigh. “God, Graydon, you’re making my nipples hard.”
He pauses and then clears his throat.
“Really?”
I turn to face him and show him exactly what he’s done to me.
His eyes go dark, and I can feel his hands itching at his sides, wanting to do something about it.
“There are children present, Graydon,” I warn.
“Then what the hell are you doing showing me your hard nipples?”
“Uh, just giving you evidence of what you do to me. If you don’t want to see it, then don’t—”
“Graydon,” someone says from behind him. I glance over his shoulder and spot one of his coaches, a man in a baseball cap and goatee. For the life of me, I can’t remember his name because from what it seems like, there are a hundred coaches on staff.
Graydon turns toward him. “What’s up, Coach?”
“Can I have a word? I know we’re not talking football tonight, but I had a quick question about a play I was just mapping out on a napkin, and I wanted to get your input on it.”
He turns to me, and I just smile. “Go ahead. I’m going to load up on a sundae.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
He leans down and presses a kiss to my cheek before whispering, “We’re not done here.”
And then he takes off with his coach.
We’re not done here…
Don’t I know it.
I pick up a bowl from the stack and move to the soft-serve ice cream machine they brought in for the event.
The moment I saw that it was soft serve, I knew exactly what I was getting for dessert.
Not to mention, there’s hot fudge and peanuts.
And I know, I know, why put hot fudge on soft serve when it melts it immediately, but soft-serve soup tastes just as good.
I take my time, making a bowl for myself with twist soft serve, fudge, peanuts, and chocolate sprinkles for the hell of it. Then I grab a spoon and a napkin, and I move over to one of the couches up against a partition and take a seat.
I noticed not many adults were going for the soft serve but rather opting for the fancier treats, but that’s their loss, because this…this is where it’s at. I take a bite and get lost in the flavors as I lean back on the couch and cross one leg over the other.
Graydon hovers over a high-top with his coach, who is pointing out something on a napkin. He’s listening intently, and it’s cute to see him all focused on his sport.
Adorable.
“Who have you spoken to?” a voice says from behind, startling me. I glance over my shoulder, and when I spot the partition, I realize the person is not talking to me.
“Philly and Miami,” the other voice says.
Why do they sound so…familiar?
“And what have they said?”
“That they’re interested, but they’re not willing to pay more than what he’s worth.”
“And this is his last year under contract?”
Wait…is that…is that Graydon’s dad?
“Yes, then we go into negotiations again. It might be hard to get the GM on board given the favoritism he’s found from the fans, especially with this dumb flamingo thing.”
Oh God, are they…are they talking about trading Graydon?
“I’m not worried about it. He’ll screw it up somehow, he always does.
The boy has too much baggage to be able to hold on to a normal relationship.
She will see that quickly and break it off.
Not to mention, she’s too soft to handle the fame.
It will fall apart quicker than it started, especially if I can rope that PR girl into it. ”
“Gretchen? I don’t think she would do anything to jeopardize the team.”
“I don’t care about the team. We can jeopardize the girl. Welcott was telling me he already made the donation to the zoo, so we can label her as a gold digger. And you know…a sordid breakup could possibly force his hand in wanting to trade to another team.”
My heart nearly pounds out of my chest as I attempt to hold my breath so I don’t miss one single damaging word.
“All this for some records?” the other man, who I’m assuming is Keenan, asks.
“He doesn’t deserve the team records,” Troy says in a low tone.
“He doesn’t care about this team. He doesn’t even care about the goddamn sport.
He’s just playing out of spite for me, and he will continue to play until he owns those records.
We need him out. And it’s not like he’s getting any younger. He will be useless to you next year.”
“Yeah…” Keenan hums. “He had a great training camp, which I hate to admit, but then again, he was fueled by rage. Don’t you think breaking him up with that girl will do the same thing?”
“No,” Troy answers. “I see the way he looks at her, and I actually think he cares. Losing her will destroy him, and he’ll end up playing like shit. This will be to our benefit.”
“Okay, let me see what I can do.”
And then they take off, leaving me in a state of worry, fear, and anger.
They want to get Graydon to move? To be traded? What kind of father would do that? Over some stupid football record? He really is terrible.
A horrible human being.
Doesn’t he know Graydon is here for a reason, for his mom? He’s just going to take that away from him. Not to mention, Graydon is happy and succeeding. He’s not as angry as when I first met him, and his dad just wants to shove him right back into that hole?
There’s so much to unpack.
I’m not even thinking about the stuff he said about me. I can deal with that on my own—no need to worry Graydon about that—but trading him? That’s…that’s something he needs to know.
“There you are,” Graydon says as he takes a seat next to me and looks down at my bowl. “Uh, why is your ice cream all melted? I thought you were excited to eat it.”
I startle out of my thoughts and slap on a smile. “I like when it’s a little soupy.”
He glances at my bowl again. “Well, that’s exactly what it is.” He studies me for a moment. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything is great.”
Clearly, it’s not, but I’m not about to tell him what I heard at the kickoff dinner.
I know Graydon well enough to know that he would lose his shit and confront his dad right away.
That would lead to him making a scene, and that’s the last thing he needs right now, especially after what his dad and coach were just talking about.
I’m not sure how the trade system works, but I would hate for them to use it as fodder.
“Are you sure?” He eyes me, then glances around. “Did someone say something to you?”
“Nope, seriously, everything is great.” I pick up my spoon and attempt to scoop some ice cream up. Sheesh, this really is soup. “How did your little meeting go? Is it a good play?”
“Has some merit,” he says, still seeming skeptical. He places his hand on my thigh. “You would tell me if someone said something to you, right? If something was bothering you?”
“Yes,” I answer. I just might not tell you right away.
But I will find the right way to frame this.
I know he has little respect for Coach Keenan, but finding out that even he would eagerly sabotage Graydon’s happiness has me fighting back tears.
It’s no wonder he was so angry when I first met him.
From what I can tell, he’d only had Hutton in his corner.
He has just been so…alone for so many years. I hate that for him.
“Okay.” He glances at my bowl again. “I can’t watch you eat that. We need a new bowl.”
I laugh as he takes my bowl from me.
“Come on.”
The door shuts behind us, and Graydon turns on me, pushing me up against the wall and pulling my leg up around his waist before I can even take my next breath. His mouth descends on mine, and his fingers filter into my braids, ruining them for the night.
Thankfully, we’re in his apartment for the rest of the evening.
His lips trail across my jaw, to the spot behind my ear, and I sink into the wall, letting this man own me, possess me…claim me.
“Why did we stay so long?” he asks as his hand tugs on the hem of my dress and pulls it up.
“Because you kept talking to Hutton,” I answer as he attempts to take my clothes off, but I stop him. I want this to happen more than anything, but with the knowledge of what his dad said resting on my chest, I have to talk to Graydon first.
He gives us just enough distance to look me in the eyes and ask, “You okay?”
“Yeah, I just…I need to talk to you about something,” I say, my mind feeling just clear enough from lust to stop this before we get started.
“Why does that not sound like a good thing?”
“It’s just…something I overheard.”
“At the party?” he asks, releasing my dress. “I thought you said everything was fine.”
“It was, up until a point, but I didn’t want to tell you at the dinner because I didn’t want to start drama at the party.”
He frowns, looking none too pleased.
“Maple, you said you wouldn’t hold anything back from me.”
“And I’m not, I’m telling you now. I just wanted to tell you in private is all.”