Chapter 43
Josie
I was trembling as I walked out of the arena and got in my car in the employee parking lot.
That was probably the adrenaline. I’d gotten a huge rush from quitting my job and flipping Carter off.
I’d fantasized about winning the lottery and quitting my job before, but I never thought I would actually get the chance.
I sat before the wheel, waiting for my hands to stop shaking, before I drove home. And as a little treat to make myself feel better, I picked up some comfort food on the way: a large order of tortilla chips from my favorite Mexican restaurant, with queso dip and guacamole.
But as soon as I walked into my apartment, I started crying.
I didn’t intend to fall apart so quickly, but it was like the weight of everything crashed down on me at once. It didn’t help that as soon as I took my phone off silent, I was bombarded with TikTok notifications. More comments on all of my videos, most of them negative.
The worst part? I had to edit and prepare two more videos to release tomorrow, but I didn’t have the motivation or energy. What was the point if it would just invite a thousand more harassing comments?
When I eventually stopped crying, I played an episode of Gossip Girl and stuffed my face with chips on the couch. The more I ate, the more I felt sorry for myself.
Wondering if alcohol would help, I poured myself a very strong gin and tonic. Honestly, it was more like a glass of gin with a splash of tonic water, but hey. Nobody was watching. And if there was ever a time to drown my sorrows, this felt like it.
Halfway through my second drink, I was brave enough—or stupid enough—to open TikTok.
Oh my God. People could be so mean. Since Grayson’s press conference, I had officially become the target of everyone’s frustration for the game two loss. I reported some of the more violent comments, then closed the app for the night.
By the time I had polished off my second drink, I was ready to direct my frustration where it really belonged.
Grayson didn’t answer his phone when I called, so I fired off a flurry of texts.
Me: It really sucks that you’re ignoring me.
Me: It also sucks what you said on TV.
Me: EVERYTHING SUCKS. That’s what I’m trying to say.
Me: It would be better if I could talk to you, though.
Me: Or you’ll keep ignoring me. That’s totally great too.
I woke up the next morning on the couch, covered in chip crumbs. I brushed myself off and immediately checked my phone. Grayson still had not responded to me, but I had a text from Sharon.
Sharon: You’re not answering your phone, so I’m assuming you passed out on the couch while watching Gossip Girl. I talked to our boss before leaving, and explained everything that has gone on with you. If you want to keep your job, he’s willing to give you another shot.
Sharon: You know you can call me if you need me, even if it’s just to vent. Love you <3
The message was comforting in more ways than one. The engagement on my videos had risen dramatically, but views and sales had plummeted. I knew that was bad for the TikTok algorithm. At this rate, my channel would be back to obscurity by next week.
It felt like I’d won the lottery, but then lost the ticket on the way to cash it.
And the one part that made me the most angry: none of it was my fault!
I was required to go out with Grayson.
The marketing team had scheduled it between playoff games, not me.
Grayson was the one who ordered mimosas at brunch. He chose to drink.
And that night at dinner, I only asked him to take a sip of wine.
Yet everyone seemed to believe I was some party girl who had dragged Grayson out and gotten him shitfaced.
I took a shower, then mustered the energy to leave my apartment. After getting lunch and some much-needed fresh air, I returned home and sat down to work on the video editing I should have done last night.
But the more I worked, the angrier I got.
This wasn’t my fault.
If anything, I was the victim here.
And Grayson and the Surge were leaving me out to dry.
Like scratching at a rash that wouldn’t heal, I rewatched Grayson’s press conference.
Then I watched it a second time.
How fucking dare he?
Halfway through the third watch, I picked up the phone and called Grayson again. He didn’t answer, but this time I was angry enough to leave a voicemail.
“Hi, Grayson Steele? Steel Wall? Captain of the San Antonio Surge and most eligible playboy in town? It’s me, Josie.
The woman you fucked, but apparently have no relationship with and don’t plan on ever seeing again.
Yeah, that Josie. I’m leaving this voicemail because you’re too much of a coward to answer your phone.
And I have a lot to say to you. First of all—”
I cut off as my phone vibrated. Grayson was calling me back.
“Hello?” he rumbled through the phone speaker. “Josie?”
Hearing his voice was comforting for a moment. “Hi.” I didn’t know what to say. “I was, um, leaving you a voicemail.”
“Oh, I just got the notification. Sorry for ducking your calls. The marketing team told me to go dark.” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “They’re the ones who wrote the speech. The one I gave last night at the press conference? I don’t know if you saw…”
“Oh, I saw it all right.” I couldn’t stop a trickle of frustration from entering my voice.
Grayson sighed heavily on the other end. “I’m sorry it had to end this way, Josie.”
For a few seconds, I stared at the wall of my apartment.
“Ended? Past tense? You’re ending things?”
“We’re in the middle of the playoffs,” he said weakly. “I have to focus.”
All of my anger returned in the blink of an eye.
“You threw me under the bus!”
“No, I didn’t.”
“You implied that I’m a distraction,” I insisted, voice rising. “As if your loss is somehow my fault. Now everyone is tearing me a new asshole on TikTok. You should see the hate I’m receiving.”
“I can’t control what random fans say on the internet,” he argued.
“Yes, actually, you can. If you had told the truth in your press conference, none of this would be happening. Instead, you lied and blamed me! You said I was a distraction!”
“What if it’s not a lie?” he shot back at me.
I gave a start. “What?”
“Maybe we took things too far,” he said. He sounded resigned to his words. “Maybe we should have gone on our dates, as required, and nothing more.”
“I don’t think you mean that,” I said softly.
“This is my job,” he angrily snapped. “Don’t you understand that, Josie? Nothing is more important than this playoff series.”
“Not even me?” I blurted out.
“Of course not even you!” he shouted.
I recoiled like I’d been hit in the chest with a hockey puck.
“I’m under more pressure than you could ever understand! Sure, we shared a spark. And some hot moments in the hotel. It was fun. But it was just a fling. That’s all. You seem to think otherwise.”
“Of course I…” I could barely speak. “You don’t think there’s more here? Between us?”
Grayson paused before answering. It gave me hope.
But only for a moment.
“This is just a fling, and I’m done letting it distract me,” he said with a tone of finality. “We’re bad for each other, Josie. We clashed from the very first date at Carlo’s. A few orgasms doesn’t change that core fact. It just masks the truth.”
A bitter laugh escaped my throat. “A few orgasms. That’s what the great and amazing Grayson Steele thinks of women.
You know, you’re exactly what I thought you were on that first date.
Arrogant and completely self-involved. I can’t believe I ever allowed myself to think any different.
I should have trusted my gut instinct that night, because I hated you. ”
“I don’t hate you, Josie,” he replied slowly. “I never did. But you’re just a fan who won a contest. It’s time to move on. I hope you can do that.”
The line went dead.