Page 94 of Just for the Cameras
And because he’s in such a jovial mood—for him; anyone else would probably equate this to deadpan—I turn around and show him the back. “I found it at the thrift store. Is it too much? Should I change?”
I glance over my shoulder to catch a blaze of heat lighting up his pupils as he takes in his name and number printed across my back. A flutter of nerves erupts in the depth of my stomach as his roaming eyes take their sweet time gazing up and down my backside.Your name is a bit farther north from there, Graydon.
“Do you not like it?” I ask, his silence making me feel incredibly insecure.
He sips his coffee, his eyes meeting mine again, and after what feels like minutes, he finally says, “My name looks good on you.”
“Oh.” My cheeks flame into an inferno. “Um, so you…you like it.”
“No need to trip over your words, Baker,” he says in an exasperated tone, then pushes the door open wider.There he is.The asshole. The one I fight against every time I gain more confidence.
God, for a second there, I thought that maybe things were changing, that there was some light at the end of this bickering tunnel, but maybe it was just a hiccup in the road.
I duck under his arm and head out of my apartment, Graydon shutting the door behind him. I lock up and then he leads me down the street where his truck is parked and my car…
“Oh my God, someone stole my car,” I say, panic wrenching through my chest.
“No one stole your car,” Graydon says in his annoyed voice. “I had a friend come pick it up. They’re fixing it.”
“How did you get the keys?” I ask, stunned.
“When I was in your place.” He shrugs as if it’s nothing and opens his truck door, but I don’t move.
“You took my keys, gave them to a random stranger, and had them take my car without my permission?”
“Yeah, because if I asked, you would have said no, and as much as I’m enjoying this early-morning rendezvous, I would prefer not to have to be your chauffeur.”
“I told you I could have taken an Uber.”
“And I told you, that wasn’t an option.”
“Who put you in charge?” I ask as I sip the coffee he bought me, a raise to his brow.
“I did. Now get the fuck in and buckle up. I don’t like being late.”
And there you have it, the man I thought went missing this morning. Nope, there he is, hyped up on a double shot according to the label on his to-go cup, ready to eat humans for breakfast.
This should be fun.
“Listen up. No one touches her, no one comes close to her, if I even seeyou bump her, you’re fucking with me,” Graydon says as I stand next to him in a pair of football pads, a bright pink practice jersey, and a helmet that feels like a ten-pound weight just sitting on the top of my head.
We took a picture together for Flock and Tackle, me next to Graydon, ready to take on the first day of training camp. I’ll be honest, I looked ridiculous, but it’s also going to make some good content.
We spent a good portion of the morning getting fitted for equipment and warming up, but now that it’s over, we’re about to get into some agility drills. Since Graydon is one of the captains on the team, he’s letting every defensive player know that I’m not to be touched, just in case they happen to actually take me for an itty-bitty rookie who’s lost.
“Did you hear me, rookie?” Graydon asks, getting in some poor kid’s face.
God, he looks like he’s about to shit himself.Hold on, little fella, don’t show fear now, it’s only day one.
“Understood,” the rookie says, his voice cracking.
God, I want to hold him to my bosom so I can tell him everything is going to be okay.
“Good, now line up.”
Graydon directs me in front of some cones and says, “Watch me, replicate.”
Oh yes, it’s just that easy, because I have the best coordination on this field.
