Page 47 of Zero Pucks Given
He blinked. “Damn.”
“Tell me about it.” I moved the ring light, then gestured. “Okay. Here’s my idea. We’re going to film a video explaining how to use makeup to cover up hockey bruises. If you’re willing to sit in front of a camera and let me apply makeup to your face.”
I didn’t think he would agree to it. I was prepared to argue with him and have to find a way to convince him to be my guinea pig.
But Grayson immediately said, “Nice. I like it.”
I stared at him in shock. “Really? You’ll do it?”
“Sure. It’ll be a funny video. Especially with April Fools coming up.”
“Yes! Exactly! I was planning on releasing it on April first.”
“You’re the expert, pussycat. Tell me what to do.”
I allowed the nickname to slide as I explained my plan to him. He was weirdly enthusiastic about the whole thing. At least, he wasagreeable, which felt like enthusiasm since I was expecting him to put up a fight.
“My agent has been saying I need to soften my image,” he explained when I commented on it a few minutes later.
“Since when do you listen to people like agents?”
“Since I lost my Big Red sponsorship deal.”
“Big Red? Like, the pop drink? What happened?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said. “Let’s get going. I don’t want to make the driver waittoolong.”
I started the video sitting in the chair, with my makeup tools arranged on the table in front of me. Grayson stood out of sight for the beginning.
“Welcome to Josie’s makeup tutorials! I have something different for you today. For all the lovely viewers out there, I’m going to show you how to cover up your hockey scars! Whether it’s a cut, a bruise, or even a full-blown black eye, there are ways to make sure you look as sharp off the ice as you do on it.”
I grabbed a multi-colored container of makeup and held it up for the camera. “We’re going to start with a color-correcting concealer, followed by full-coverage foundation. First, you want to…”
I trailed off, frowning dramatically.
“Shoot. I don’t have any scars to cover up, because I don’t play hockey. Now where can I find some hockey scars…” I glanced over both shoulders, making a show of searching around my apartment. “Ahhah! Here, I have just the thing…”
I got up, grabbed Grayson, and pushed him down into the chair. His arms were as strong as bricks, and warm to the touch.
“I like my scars,” Grayson said stubbornly, exactly like we had discussed.
“Shut up, you.” I smiled at the camera. “Ladies, you’re going to want to prep your hockey player so that he doesn’t complain. I find that a deep amber lager works great.”
I retrieved the beer from the table, cracking it open with a hiss, and handed it to Grayson. He smiled at it, then took a long pull.
“Once your hockey player has been subdued, it’s time to get to work. You might only have a few minutes before he finishes his beer, so you’re going to want to move quickly.”
For the next few minutes, Grayson sat in the chair and allowed me to cover his face with makeup. First I took care of the cut above his eye, then worked on the purple bruise that surrounded his right eye.
All of this was second-nature to me; the only difference was that I was applying my skills to someone other than myself. Most of my focus was devoted on smiling and explaining what I was doing, but eventually I became more aware ofexactlywhat was happening.
I was holding his chin in one hand, feeling the thin beard underneath.
He closed his eyes while I applied concealer to his skin, almost leaning into my brush.
Our quiet breaths mingled together while I worked, a sense of closeness that we hadn’t shared on either of our dates. Not even during the kiss.
As I touched him, I was hyper-aware of just howstrongof a man he was. Heat radiated off his muscles, and his scent filled my nostrils in a way that was more intoxicating than the margaritas on the River Walk. There was a quiet power to him, like a lion that was sleeping.
