CHAPTER 42
GRAYDON
OC: Does this shirt make me look fat? [Picture]
Bennett: No.
Graydon: Yes.
OC: Are you saying that just to be a dick?
Graydon: Yes, because why the fuck are you texting us that?
OC: It’s called camaraderie.
Graydon: Don’t you have another group thread with the hockey guys that you can ask?
OC: I did, and they all said I looked great. Maybe learn a lesson from them.
Graydon: If they said you look great, then why the hell are you asking us?
OC: To create a safe space where we feel comfortable asking each other these types of questions. Don’t you ever feel like you look fat in shirts?
Graydon: Never.
Bennett: Feeling pretty good over here.
OC: Maybe it was the dozen donuts I ate that’re making me feel fat.
Bennett: Fuck, man. That’s…that’s incredibly unhealthy.
Graydon: And pathetic.
OC: I know! I’m not proud of myself. Nor am I proud of myself for waking up this morning with my face in the box, chocolate smeared across my cheek, but here I am.
Bennett: You’re a mess.
Graydon: I really don’t know how to handle this.
OC: You think I do? I’m lost. Can I come over and talk?
Graydon: No.
Bennett: Out of town, sorry, man.
OC: Graydon…please.
Graydon: No. I have plans, and they don’t involve you.
OC: Do you even like me?
Graydon: Barely.
OC: Ah! You said barely. That means there is a sliver of likeness.
Bennett: Don’t push your luck. He’ll take away the sliver.
Graydon: Listen to the young one.
“Who are you texting over there that has you smirking?”
Shit, am I smirking?
I set my phone down as Maple walks over to me.
She’s wearing one of my shirts and nothing else, holding a cup of coffee.
The last two nights, she’s stayed at my place, in my bed, under me, and yesterday, when she went to the zoo for a half shift, I went with her, and she took a few pics of me feeding the flamingos to post on Flock and Tackle.
I harped on how brave I was for letting the flamingos get that close and she dramatically rolled her eyes.
We then went to dinner at the food truck again and spent the night talking and, well… fucking.
I’ve never felt this relaxed before the start of a season.
Never.
I always dread the grueling schedule because it takes a second to get into the swing of things, but this year, I have someone by my side.
I like knowing that after a long day on the practice field, I have someone excited to see me, waiting there with open arms when I get home.
I like that I can forget everything around me with her, that I’m not constantly battling the demons in my head but rather getting lost in another world where I feel safe and cared for.
I’m really fucking comfortable.
Relaxed.
And even though it’s Sunday, a day where I usually grow tense and nauseous, I’m feeling loose, comforted.
And it’s all because of her.
Maple.
My girl.
“Just some stupid thing OC was asking.”
Maple takes a seat on my lap like the good fucking girl that she is and then blows on her coffee before taking a sip. I slide my hand over her bare leg, attempting to keep my composure and not maul her while she’s drinking her coffee.
And it’s a valiant effort because I would like nothing more on this earth right now than to be buried between Maple’s legs.
I’m addicted. Every time I see her, it’s all I think about.
My skin itches for the feel of her wrapped around me, for the sound of her sweet moans echoing through my ears, for the feel of her fingernails digging into my back.
Jesus…I fucking like her so much.
“And what was he asking?” She smirks over her coffee cup, looking so perfect with her makeup-free face.
“If he looked fat in a shirt.”
She pauses. “Wait, seriously?”
“Yes, I told you he’s exhausting. Then he went and told us that he ate a dozen donuts last night and woke up face-first in the box.”
Maple quickly covers her mouth and chuckles. “Oh God, did he really?”
“That’s what he said.”
“Aw, I kind of feel bad for him. He’s so heartbroken.”
“Don’t feel bad for him. He’s being dramatic.”
“Have you never been through heartache like that before?” she asks.
I shake my head. “Never cared about someone enough to experience that feeling.”
“Never?”
“Never.” I rub her thigh. “But I think I might be with someone right now who has the potential to bring me to my knees if she ever decided to walk away.”
“Just to your knees?” she asks with a grin. “Not face-first in an empty box of a dozen donuts?”
“I would never eat that many donuts in one sitting. So no.”
“Are you saying that I’m not worth a dozen donuts?”
“You’re right.” I squeeze her thigh. “It would be two dozen.”
She chuckles and pats my cheek. “That’s more like it.” She sips her coffee again and then says, “I’m going to finish this coffee, and then I’ll be out of your hair.”
My brows draw together. “What do you mean you’ll be out of my hair?”
“Well, it’s Sunday. I know it’s your private day, and I don’t want to get in the way. Plus, I should probably do my laundry and prepare for the upcoming week.”
I smooth my hand over her thigh as a bout of nerves erupts in my stomach because I’ve been thinking about something, something that feels out of character for me, but I can’t seem to get the idea out of my head, especially since the season is about to start.
I want her by my side for all of it.
I want her immersed in my life.
I want to be able to share every aspect of my life with her, and there’s really only one piece left that she’s not a part of. And even though it’s the most traumatic, heart-wrenching part, it’s also the most beautiful part. The reason I am the man I am today. And I want her to know that side of me.
“What if you stayed?” I say, then clear my throat. “What if you…umm…came with me today?”
She stills, her coffee halfway to her mouth before she lowers it, and her eyes meet mine. “You want me to go visit your mom with you?”
“Only if you want to,” I say, feeling insecure. “I don’t want to pressure you. I just…” I push my hand through my hair. “I want you to see that side of my life. You’ve seen it all. That’s the last piece, and I want you to be a part of it.”
“Are you…are you sure?” she asks, trepidation in her voice. “Being with your mom is such a private moment for you. I don’t want to impose.”
“I wouldn’t ask you if I thought you would be imposing. But if you’re not comfortable with it, or if you think it’s too soon, you won’t offend me.”
She shakes her head, then sets her mug down on the coffee table. “I would be honored to meet her, Graydon. Truly, it means so much to me that you trust me enough to take me with you. I just want to make sure you’re comfortable with it. I can always just wait in the car for you.”
“No, I want you there.”
Her arm loops around my neck as she shifts and straddles me. “You’re sure?”
“Positive.”
She smiles softly. “Then I would love to go with you and meet your mom.”
I let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you,” I practically whisper.
She brings her lips inches from mine. “Thank you for trusting me enough to bring me.”
And then her mouth is on mine, and I’m sinking into the couch, into the sense of relief this woman brings me.
Maple pats down her dress as I help her out of my truck. “Are you sure I look okay?”
I let my eyes roam over the baby-blue sundress she chose to wear.
The sleeves cover her shoulders, but the square neckline offers an expansive view of her chest, without it being too much for my mom.
And its simple frame hugs her torso but then lies loosely around her hips.
She put her hair half up, half down, and she coated her eyelashes with minimal mascara and dotted her cheeks with some blush. She looks perfect.
“You look beautiful,” I say and kiss the top of her head.
“Thank you,” she says as she loops her arm around my waist and hugs me. I return the hug, holding her there tightly in the parking lot as I know her nerves start to get the best of her.
After agreeing to go with me, she slipped some clothes on, and I packed a bag before we headed to her place. We showered together, and I bent her over and fucked her while the water poured around us.
Then we got ready, and with every second that ticked closer to us leaving, I could see her growing more and more nervous.
“Are you okay?” I ask, rubbing her back.
“Yes, I’m just…I’m nervous. I want this to be a good day for you. I want…I want her to recognize you. I want it for you so badly.”
“I do too,” I say, kissing the top of her head again.
“I don’t know how you do this every week. She’s not even my mom, and I feel sick with worry.” She tilts her head back to look at me. “I don’t want to see you devastated and hurt. I don’t think my heart will be able to take it.”
“I spoke to Rhonda when you were getting ready. That’s my mom’s aide, and she said that it seemed like she was having a better day today. She, uh…she added some pictures to the album that she shows my mom on days that I come to visit. They’re of you and me. I hope that’s okay.”
Her eyes widen. “Of course, that’s…that’s so special. You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted this to be as easy as possible.” I take her hand in mine. “If this goes south, just know that I will be okay in time.”
She nods. “You just tell me what you need and want from me. If you need space, don’t be afraid to ask for it.”
I shake my head. “If anything, I’ll need you more than ever.”
She squeezes my hand and leans into my shoulder. “Then I’m here for you, Graydon.”
Like I said…she’s perfect.
I press my index finger under her chin and lift her mouth to mine before lightly kissing her, soaking in her essence before I pull away and guide her to the front door of my mom’s care facility.
We check in, and I show Maple the facility, pointing out different pieces of art my mom has painted as we make our way to the main living space.
“Wow,” she whispers, taking it all in. “These windows, there’s so much light.”