Page 109 of Zero Pucks Given
“Youwere loud,” Grayson replied.
“Because of what you were doing to me.”
Grayson grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled me into a rough kiss. “Goddamn right.”
*
The next two months were a blur.
Grayson and I spent the night together more often than not. Sometimes we were at his penthouse condo, and other times he crashed at my place. “I don’t care,” he said when I apologized for my place being way smaller than his. “As long as there’s enough room for the two of us in bed, I’m happy.”
We had sex. Alotof sex. Apparently Grayson had a lot more energy now that the season was over, and wanted to tear my clothes offat leasttwice a day.
I didn’t mind. Not even a little bit.
Our chemistry was undeniable now that there weren’t any roadblocks or distractions. We had similar personalities. That was the reason we had clashed so much at first, but now it meant it was easy for the two of us to interlace our lives together.
I couldn’t get enough of him. Even the hundredth time we slept together felt every bit as satisfying as thefirsttime. It was like a never-ending honeymoon.
My TikTok channel was chugging along. I’d received a massive spike in traffic when he posted hisTo Josievideo, but my views had begun trending downward since the Surge season ended. I had expected that, but it was fine. I was still getting far more views and sales than I ever could have imagined a year ago.
But then I got a call from one of the marketing guys who worked under Bob Trent. I had forgotten all about my agreement with the Surge to do some cross-promotion on their social media accounts. They ended up re-posting three of my videos, spaced out a week apart. My expectations were low since the season was over, but the result was far better than I ever expected: there were spikes for each re-posting, which was enough to get the TikTok algorithm to fall in love with me. Throughout May and June, every single video I published received more views than the previous one. The graph showing my affiliate sales was a steep upward curve.
By July, I was making enough money to safely quit my job at the Frost Bank Center.
Grayson took me out to dinner to celebrate. He kept our destination a secret, but it was no surprise when we pulled up to Carlo’s, the site of our first fake date.
“You’d better not angrily storm out of our date this time,” Grayson warned as we sat down in the exact same private room as the first time.
“I promise I won’t. But only if you order an eight thousand dollar bottle of wine.”
He snorted. “The team isn’t paying forthisdinner.”
“Oh, so suddenly you’re too good to spend money on your girlfriend?” I teased.
Grayson narrowed his eyes at me. “Girlfriend?”
“Yes. Girlfriend. I’m putting my foot down and making it official.”
Grayson chuckled and shook his head.
“What’s so funny?” I asked. Had I pushed too far?
Without saying anything, he pulled a card out of his jacket pocket and slid it across the table. He’d written, “Pussycat,” on the front.
“Open it,” he said.
Not understanding the significance, I slowly tore open the card and began reading it out loud. “To my girlfriend. You mean the world to me more each and every day. Happy Anniversary.” I glanced up at Grayson. “Anniversary?”
“Today’s the fifteenth,” Grayson said with a smirk. “Exactly six months ago, we went on our first date. Here.”
“Oh my God. You’re right. I can’t believe I forgot.”
“It’s all right,” he said. “As long as I get to call you girlfriend.”
I’d been so focused on the anniversary part of the card that I had glossed right over the beginning.To my girlfriend.
We both wanted the same thing without knowing it.
