Page 56 of The Goat in the Bedroom
“Of course I was worried. You're my?—“
Before I could finish, he picked me up in a hug, spinning me around. I shrieked, laughing, my hands automatically going to his shoulders, which were very broad and solid under his pads.
When he set me down, he didn't immediately let go, his hands staying on my waist. “The jersey looks perfect on you.”
“It's a little big.”
“It's perfect,” he repeated, and something in his voice made my stomach flip.
Sloane was definitely filming this. Everyone was watching with knowing looks. But for a moment, I forgot about all of them, caught in whatever was happening in the space between us.
Then Flynn cleared his throat loudly. “Are we interrupting something?”
“Nope,” I stepped back quickly. “Just celebrating. With my friend. Platonically.”
“Right,” Flynn said, exchanging a look with Tempest. “Platonically.”
Gryff didn't seem phased by any of this. “DeMarcus Clay has some trendy bar called The Beach reserved for a celebration. Who wants to take the grands home and who wants to partay?”
“I nominate Jules for grandparent duty.” She'd been far too nosy all night, and she was overly perceptive.
“Ah, man.” Jules whined.
“Come, mija. We will take you to get the best tacos in LA and we will tell you how our families were fated to be united.”
“Okay, that sounds like the tea. I'm in.” She flipped the four of us off. “See you suckers later. I'm getting tacos and hot gossip.”
When we got to the bar, we were some of the first to arrive, so we were able to get a table. Tempest gave Flynn a kiss on the cheek and then a shove. “Go find us some drinks, boys.”
“Temperino.” A gorgeous Latina woman waved. “What did you think of your first game?”
“Everyone, this is Artie,” Tempest introduced me. “She's?—“
“Gryff's girlfriend.” The woman, Martinez's wife, according to her jersey, pulled me into a hug. “We've been dying to meet you. I'm Vanessa, this is Jade and Priya, the unofficial welcome committee to the PALs club. We need to get you involved.”
“Oh, I'm not... we're just roommates. Friends. Platonic cohabiters.”
The stunning, sophisticated Black woman gave me a wave. “I'm Jade. You're the roommate? My fiancé says Gryff doesn't shut up about you.”
“He talks about me?” Something fluttered in my chest that I squashed immediately.
“According to DeMarcus, constantly,” said. “He says your name comes up more than plays in the locker room.”
“My husband says the same,” added Priya. “It's actually kind of adorable.”
“We're just very close friends. We've been friends for a real long time. If something was going to happen, it would have happened. We're basically siblings. Well, not siblings, that's weird. But like... cousins? No, that's worse. Just very, very platonic friends who happen to live together. Platonically.”
The women all exchanged looks like they were looking at an animal gnawing its own leg off in a trap. I was saved from any further verbal explosions from the boys bringing back drinks.
“Strawberry margarita,” Gryff said, handing it to me with that grin that made my stomach do things I was ignoring.
The night became a blur of congratulations, teammates introducing themselves, more PALs making knowing comments about Gryff and me. Every time I turned around, someone was assuming we were together, and my denials were getting weaker.
“Just friends,” I said for the hundredth time when DeMarcus Clay asked how long we'd been dating.
“Sure,” DeMarcus said, clearly not believing me. “The way he looks at you is very... friendly.”
Three margaritas in, actual alcoholic ones this time, surrounded by people who kept insisting Gryff was in love with me, something shifted in my slightly tipsy brain.
