Page 100 of Just for the Cameras
I didn’t back down, though. I took it without a grimace or a shred of pain showing in my face.
And I think it only pissed him off more, which made it that much sweeter.
I grab my keys from my pocket and head out to the players’ parking lot. The rest of the team is reviewing film, something I will have to do later tonight on my own and report back in a quiz the next day, because that’s how much Coach Keenan doesn’t trust me. Then again, they’re the ones putting me in this situation.
I checked Flock and Tackle last night, and the account is growing so much and getting so many shares that it’s unbelievable. Yesterday’s post of Maple and me in our gear, ready to train, has been the most commented on so far, besides our first post. Gretchen texted and said they’re alreadyteasing merch and are putting together a website to purchase. I made it known that any and all proceeds will go to the zoo.
She agreed. Thankfully.
She also informed me that there will be media at the zoo today, talking to me and the boys. Since Maple and I have been able to bring attention to what we’re doing, they want to loop in Bennett and OC as well and shine light on what they’re doing, meaning today’s post is going to include them.
I hop into my truck and make the quick twenty-minute drive to the zoo, happy that it’s not that far away from the training facilities, or my place for that matter. What I hate most is driving in traffic.
When I pull into the back parking lot and put my truck in park, I grab the water bottle that Maple gave me on day one and head over to Gate B, where I can hear OC’s dumb voice.
“Shit, that’s a pretty nasty bruise,” he says. “All from a helmet, huh?”
I push through the gate and find Maple on the other side, her arm in her brace and her eye swollen, a black ring around it, her eyebrow puffed up from the cut.
“Jesus,” I say as I move in close, ignoring everyone around us. I grip her face and examine her. “Did you ice this last night?”
Her eyes widen as she takes in me and the nasty bruise around my eye.
“Oh my God, Graydon. Your eye.”
“I asked you a question, Baker. Did you ice this?”
She takes a step back, and I can see OC look between the two of us, studying our every move. “A pair of black eyes. If I didn’t know any better, I would have assumed you got sick of his grumpy ass and he fought back.”
“You think I would hit her?” I round on him, causing Maple to move in quickly, pressing her hand to my chest.
“Just a joke, man. Just a joke.” OC backs up.
“Stop,” Maple says, pushing me…well, attempting to push me, but her soft disposition is no match for my angry, ready-to-murder one. Sheruns her hand up to my neck, where she hooks it and brings my attention to her. “Stop.”
Something about looking in her eyes, her hand on my chest, her body so close to mine, makes me ease the tension coiling inside me.
“Now, let’s go talk for a second.” She surprisingly slides her hand into mine and tugs me toward the events building just as OC calls out.
“Good to see you too, man. Catch up with you later.”
That fucker, always pushing his boundaries and my buttons.
When we’re in the building, Maple brings me to the completely deserted back kitchen. She turns toward me, and I prepare for her to tell me what an asshole I am, but then she surprises me as her expression softens and she says, “Are you okay? That looks…it looks bad, Graydon.”
“It’s fine,” I say as she leans against the counter behind her, studying me. Wanting to see her more eye to eye, I step in close, then lift her up by the waist and set her on the counter. A surprised gasp parts her lips as my hands remain on her sides. I tell myself to take a step back, but my body doesn’t listen.
I cup her cheek, inspecting her eye. “You didn’t ice this.”
“I did,” she says.
“Then why is it still swollen?”
“Maybe because my body is trying to heal a fractured wrist too?” She shrugs. “It’s fine. Reminds everyone not to mess with someone like me.” She attempts a menacing expression, but it just makes my lips tilt up in a smile, because nothing is menacing about her. “Oh my God.” She sits taller. “Oh my God, did I just make Graydon St. John smile?”
I roll my eyes dramatically.
Continuing, she says, “Call the papers. Alert the town crier. Tell the gossip rags. Graydon St. John knows how to smile.”
