Page 110 of Zero Pucks Given
I leaned across the table and gave him a long kiss. When I tried pulling away, he held me against him, deepening the kiss.
We were interrupted by our server stepping into the private room and clearing his throat. “I, um, can come back…”
“Sorry, we’re ready,” Grayson said as I returned to my seat. “What’s your most expensive bottle of wine?”
The server blinked. “That would be the Leroy Romanee-Saint-Vivant. I will need to verify the price with our sommelier, but I believe it is around nine thousand dollars.”
“And theleastexpensive bottle?” Grayson asked.
“That would be our house red. Twelve dollars per glass, or thirty for a bottle.”
Without taking his eyes off me, Grayson said, “The house red sounds perfect. I don’t want my girlfriend accusing me of being a rich asshole.”
“My boyfriendisa rich asshole,” I told the server. “But he’smyrich asshole.”
The server wasn’t sure what to say to this, so he mumbled something about retrieving the bottle and disappeared.
*
Mason moved out of Grayson’s apartment that summer. “I got this sweet place down the street,” Mason explained while carrying the last box out of his room. He set it down on the table and wiped sweat from his forehead. “It’s like two blocks from the arena where we play. That cute little district with all the apartments above shops. There’s thissuperhot chick who sunbathes on the balcony across the street. In her bikini.”
Mason grinned, then suddenly remembered that I was sitting on the couch.
“Um… sorry,” he said to me.
“Don’t be,” I replied. “Go get it, dude.”
Mason turned to face his teammate. “I know you hated having me here. But it made the last season, my rookie season in the league, a lot more tolerable. I was lucky to have you as a mentor.”
“You still do,” Grayson replied. “And you weren’t so bad.”
Mason cupped his hand over his ear. “I’m sorry. Can you repeat that? I think I misheard you.”
Gritting his teeth, Grayson replied, “You heard what I said. Once is all you’re getting.”
“Good enough!” Mason reached into his box of belongings and pulled out a small package wrapped in Surge-themed wrapping paper. “This is for you.”
“I told you. I hate gifts.”
“I know, I know, but this isn’t anything crazy. Just something small.”
“Do I have to open it now?”
I leaped up from the couch and joined them. “Of course you have to open it now. Let’s see it!”
Grayson looked embarrassed as he tore open the box. Then he reached inside and pulled out a jar of JIF peanut butter. The big hockey player stared at the jar, then looked up at Mason. “The fuck?”
“I didn’t know what to get you!” He pointed at me. “Shegave you peanut butter before that Oilers game and you damn near started crying.”
Grayson put down the jar and stepped close to Mason. For a moment, it looked like he was angry. But then he threw his arms around his teammate and clapped him on the back.
“Thanks,” was all he said.
“You’re… welcome?” Mason glanced at me. “Now Ireallyhope the peanut butter isn’t some sex thing.”
*
Aside from a few public appearances here and there, Grayson’s schedule was delightfully free all summer. And since quitting my job, I now had the ability to work from anywhere—so long as I had my camera equipment and a makeup product to review.
