Page 2 of Zero Pucks Given
Stupid Carter.
I moved throughout the stands, selling beer and fake-smiling at all the fans. Eventually, the horn blared throughout the arena, announcing an end to the second period. Fans immediately got up from their seats to use the bathroom or get more food during intermission, crowding the stairs where I was working. I put down my backpack, grateful for the break.
While I had a moment, I pulled out my phone. As a side-hustle, I reviewed make-up products and posted videos on TikTok and Instagram. It earned me enough money to pay for groceries, which was better than most people I knew, but I was still holding out hope that one of my videos would go viral and I could quit my day job in this frozen arena.
Yeah, I know. Everyone wanted to be an influencer these days. Give me a break. A girl could dream.
“Now’s the time you’ve been waiting for!” a voice blasted through the speakers in the arena. “The contest to see which lucky fan will win a date with the Steele Wall, your San Antonio Surge captain, Grayson Steele!”
A few women in the stands eagerly stood up and stared at the screen, waiting to see the winner announced. I tried not to roll my eyes. The women in this town had gonenutsover this promotion for the past month. It was covered in newspapers, on the local TV station, and was all over social media. It was insane.
I hated the way professional athletes were worshipped. They were just normal people who wereverygood at one specific skill. But that dumb skill gave them millions of dollars, wide-reaching fame, and inflated egos.
“I’ll take a beer, sweetheart,” a man old enough to be my dad said nearby.
That fake smile appeared on my face automatically. “Twelve dollars.”
While I opened a beer and began pouring it into a plastic cup, avideo flashed on the screen showing Grayson Steele’s dumb handsome face. His fake smile was a lot less convincing than mine. Going on a date with him would be about as fun as getting a root canal.
“The winner of a date with Grayson Steele…” The arena noise fell to an anticipatory hush.
“JOSIE HARPER!”
I was so shocked that I dropped the beer.
2
Josie
Two Weeks Earlier
“Don’t drop the beer!” Sharon said.
I arrived at our booth in the corner of the bar with a cluster of three pints gripped in my hands. “Don’t doubt me. I’m a pro at slinging beer, whether to customers or my friends.”
Sharon frowned at the beer. “Who’s the third for? You expecting a date?”
“Keg blew before it was full,” I said, pointing to one glass that was an inch less full than the other two. “So the bartender gave it to me on the house.”
“Lucky night for us!” Sharon said, taking a glass and drinking it down. “Although I would prefer if youdidhave a gentleman caller joining us.”
I pointed a warning finger at her. “Don’t start with me.”
“I’m just saying…”
“You shouldjust sayanything else. Literally anything,” I insisted. “I’m not ready to get back out in the dating world. I just want to date myself for a while.”
Sharon rolled her eyes. “I hate that phrase. Dating yourself.”
“So do I, but it’s true in my case. After breaking up with Brent, I need a full detox from men.”
“You two dated less than a year. And it’s already been a month since your breakup.”
“And in another month, maybe I’ll be ready to get back out there.” I took a long pull from my beer. “How are your videos doing?”
“Fine.Justfine. I think I’ve plateaued—I’m getting the same number of views on every video, no matter when I upload.”
Sharon posted cooking videos on her TikTok account. She wasreallygood at it, and she was attractive—which, let’s face it, mattered on these kinds of things—but she hadn’t gone viral yet.
