Page 32 of Zero Pucks Given
The lights in the arena dimmed as the teams were announced, which ended our argument. But there was a different tone to our banter tonight. It was a little more playful, a little less biting. I guess ithelped that we both knew what we were in for tonight, as opposed to the first date where we both expected the other person to be pleasant.
We sat in silence until tip-off. Two more fans arrived and sat next to me, forcing me to lean closer to Grayson. Strangely enough, he tensed as my leg brushed against his.
“Relax. I don’t want to be this close to you either,” I muttered.
Grayson grunted, but said nothing.
For a little while, we sipped our beers and watched the game. I was enthralled by the action—being this close gave me a totally different sense of how the game was played.
Eventually, to break the silence, I teased, “Too bad you didn’t play basketball in college. This is arealsport.”
“How do you figure?” he asked skeptically.
I gestured at the men running up and down the court just a few feet away. “They don’t wear layers of padding and specialized equipment. All they need is a pair of sneakers.”
“Sure,” he muttered.
“They play more of the game, too. A starter goes, like, forty minutes. How much time do you spend on the ice per game?”
Grayson twisted in his chair to frown at me. “Hockey issignificantlymore difficult in terms of cardio. Skating burns your legs out fast. I wish I could casually jog across the court like them.”
“Sure,” I replied. “Your sportisn’tjust figure skating with sticks.”
“Look at LeBron,” Grayson insisted. I could tell I was getting under his skin, now. “He’s just standing around right now. We never get to stay still in hockey. We’re always moving.”
“If you say so.”
He let out an exasperated sigh and shook his head.
We ordered another round when the first quarter ended. Then we sat there awkwardly while waiting for the second quarter to begin.
“You’ve got a nice place,” I said. “At least, it looked nice from the outside.”
Grayson glanced at me for a moment, like he was waiting for me to tack an insult onto the end. “It’s all right. The thing I love the most is the location. I’m close enough to the arena to walk to games when the weather is nice. And the River Walk is less than a mile away in the other direction.”
“I bet you get a lot of attention walking places instead of driving,” I lightly teased. “You probably love that.”
The big hockey player grimaced. “That’s actually what I hate the most about this job. Aside from being forced to go on publicity dates with women who hate hockey.”
I snorted.
“I wear an Astros cap and sunglasses when I walk around. That usually helps me blend in. Usually.” He sighed heavily. “The fame gets old real quick. I can’t go anywhere without fans pestering me. Yeah, I know, I shouldn’t bitch about it. I have it easy. And I do like having a good relationship with fans. But still. Sometimes…”
He hesitated, staring off at the court where the players were about to start the second quarter.
“Sometimes I daydream about retiring early and, like, moving to New Zealand. Somewhere nobody knows who I am, and I can sit and drink a latte and read a book in a coffee shop without being interrupted every thirty seconds for a selfie.”
I almost made a joke about his reading level, but there was something about the conversation that stopped me.
“I can’t imagine how bad it is for somebodyreallyfamous, like a musician or movie star. I feel bad for Taylor Swift.”
“Oh yeah, poor T-Swifty,” I commented. “I’d doanythingfor just a tenth of the amount of money she makes in a year.”
“Like post two makeup tutorials a day on TikTok?” Grayson asked.
“I know you’re making fun of me, but yes! I would sell out so hardif it meant earning more. A guy like you can’t relate, but it’s tough to earn a living these days.”
“I know a woman like you can’t relate,” he countered, “but money isn’t everything.”
