Chapter 35 - Josie
Josie
While we waited for Manny to finish setting up his cameras, Bob repeated all the information for Grayson. The big hockey player nodded, and muttered something about getting this over with.
After turning away from Bob, he opened his phone and began texting. I faced the other direction and idly scrolled TikTok.
Then a text popped up on my phone.
Grayson: All I can think about is bending you over that lobby chair and fucking you until you scream loud enough to wake everyone in the hotel.
I looked up, and Grayson had a tiny smile on his lips while still staring at his phone, avoiding eye contact with me.
I grinned to myself. It was fun having a little secret that nobody else knew about.
“Have fun, you two,” Bob said, waving goodbye. “And for the love of God, try to be reasonable with your purchases. If I have to explain another expensive bottle of wine to the budget guys, I’m going to blow a gasket.”
Our coffee date was at a cute little spot only a few blocks from the hotel, so we walked there. Manny ran ahead, then took “candid” photos of us walking together. Grayson and I made small talk—chatting about the weather, and the city.
Pretending like we hadn’t spent all night fucking like rabbits.
Nobody at the coffee shop recognized us, although a few customers glanced at the camera man with curiosity. After receiving our drinks, we sat at a two-person table up against the wall.
“I bet you hate this,” I said.
Grayson raised an eyebrow. “Going on yet another date with you?”
“I meant the fans. Or lack thereof. Nobody recognizes you here. Zero fame to wallow in.”
He looked around, then sighed happily. “I love it. I might move here when I retire.” He pointed at my drink. “You’re probably disappointed you’re not getting an expensive free meal. Our coffees only cost eight dollars. Canadian dollars.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I’m planning on getting my money’s worth at brunch after this.”
“I don’t know if the place we’re going has an eight thousand dollar bottle of wine in their cellar,” Grayson said.
I let out a dramatic sigh. “What’s the point of even going out with you, then?”
Grayson lowered his voice, then said, “I can think of one reason.”
I felt my cheeks redden. “Now I’m thinking about that, too.”
His foot brushed against mine underneath the table. “Good. It’s all I’ve been able to think about since I left your hotel room this morning.”
I smiled and sipped my coffee. “It was that memorable, huh?”
But Grayson surprised me by shaking his head. “I’m not talking about what happened last night.” He leaned forward, eyes locked onto mine. “I’m thinking about what I’m going to do to you the next time we’re alone.”
Manny appeared beside our table. “You two are doing great. Keep pretending, just like that.”
The two of us shared another private smile.
Pretending indeed.
After coffee, we walked a few more blocks to a restaurant called Little Brick.
It was an old brick house that had been converted into a small restaurant, and there was a line of customers out the door waiting for a table.
We had reservations though, so one of the marketing interns went inside to tell the host.
“Steel Wall!” someone in line called out. “What’s on the menu this morning?”
Grayson turned around to look at the fan, who was wearing an Oilers jersey. “Haven’t decided yet. What’s good here?”
The fan almost looked surprised that Grayson had responded to him. “French toast. Best in Alberta, no question. I hope you enjoy it… and then get the snot beat out of you in tomorrow’s game.”
“I hope you’re half right!” Grayson replied.
He took a few selfies with the fans in line, graciously trading quips with them. But it was all good natured, and then we were escorted inside to our table.
“You handled that nicely,” I said when we sat down.
Grayson snorted. “Compared to the fans in Boston or Philly? Those guys were downright friendly.”
“I guess the stereotype about Canadians is true,” I said.
Everything on the menu looked good, so I ended up ordering four different meals. When Grayson stared at me, I said, “What? I warned you I was going to get my money’s worth.”
He chuckled, then asked the server, “Do you have any champagne in your cellar? We’re looking for something expensive.”
“Something that costs at least a few thousand dollars, if possible,” I added.
The server looked at both of us like he was being pranked. “Um. We do not have a cellar. But I think we have champagne…”
“Whatever you have, I suppose it will do,” Grayson said. “A pitcher of mimosas, please.”
“Should you be drinking?” I asked. “You have a game tomorrow.”
“They don’t like it when we drink the night before a game,” he explained. “But they never said anything about drinking in the morning.”
“You’re a lot more laid back than you were on our first date,” I teased.
“I sure am,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “Emphasis on laid.”
I bit my lip to keep from grinning like an idiot.
Grayson took the fan’s advice and ordered the French toast, but he also helped me with all the food I had ordered, taking a few testing bites off each plate. We rotated the plates around, sharing them and arguing over which was liked the most and the least.
When we left the restaurant, we saw the fan from outside sitting at a table. “Thanks for the recommendation,” Grayson told him. “The French toast hit the spot.”
“I hope it gives you exactly two days worth of indigestion,” the fan joked. “Enough to last until you’re back in San Antonio.”
Outside, the marketing intern glanced at his watch. “That’s all we had planned for now. You two have some downtime to do whatever you want. I’m sure you don’t want to hang out any more than required, but we need you to meet back in the lobby at six for dinner.”
“I definitely need some time to relax,” Grayson said.
I looked around. “I’m going to go back to my room and take a nap.”
We started walking in that direction, with the marketing intern and Manny following behind. “You didn’t get much sleep last night?” Grayson asked me.
“No,” I replied with a straight face. “I did not.”
When we got back to the hotel, Manny and the marketing intern split off to discuss the photographs and when they wanted to post them. A few players were eating breakfast in the bar, but otherwise Grayson and I were alone.
“See you at six?” I said.
“Yeah, see you then,” he replied.
He walked over to his teammates, and I took the elevator up to my room. When I got inside, I fell onto my back on the bed and sighed happily.
That was the best date yet, for obvious reasons. It was like all the tension had been pounded out of us last night, and we were now both comfortable in each other’s presence. I was actually sad to part ways in the lobby.
My phone lit up with a text message.
Grayson: Were you really going to take a nap now?
Me: I was thinking about it. Why?
Exactly three seconds after I hit send, there was a very soft knock on my door. I peered through the peephole, then threw open the door.
Grayson smiled at me from the doorway. “Because I had other plans for you.”