Page 231 of Just for the Cameras
Bennett:Out of town, sorry, man.
OC:Graydon…please.
Graydon:No. I have plans, and they don’t involve you.
OC:Do you even like me?
Graydon:Barely.
OC:Ah! You said barely. That means there is a sliver of likeness.
Bennett:Don’t push your luck. He’ll take away the sliver.
Graydon:Listen to the young one.
“Who are you texting over there that has you smirking?”
Shit, am I smirking?
I set my phone down as Maple walks over to me. She’s wearing one of my shirts and nothing else, holding a cup of coffee. The last two nights, she’s stayed at my place, in my bed, under me, and yesterday, when she went to the zoo for a half shift, I went with her, and she took a few pics of me feeding the flamingos to post on Flock and Tackle. I harped on how brave I was for letting the flamingos get that close and she dramatically rolled her eyes. We then went to dinner at the food truck again and spent the night talking and, well…fucking.
I’ve never felt this relaxed before the start of a season.
Never.
I always dread the grueling schedule because it takes a second togetinto the swing of things, but this year, I have someone by my side.
I like knowing that after a long day on the practice field, I havesomeone excited to see me, waiting there with open arms when I get home. I like that I can forget everything around me with her, that I’m not constantly battling the demons in my head but rather getting lost in another world where I feel safe and cared for.
I’m really fucking comfortable.
Relaxed.
And even though it’s Sunday, a day where I usually grow tense and nauseous, I’m feeling loose, comforted.
And it’s all because of her.
Maple.
My girl.
“Just some stupid thing OC was asking.”
Maple takes a seat on my lap like the good fucking girl that she is and then blows on her coffee before taking a sip. I slide my hand over her bare leg, attempting to keep my composure and not maul her while she’s drinking her coffee.
And it’s a valiant effort because I would like nothing more on this earth right now than to be buried between Maple’s legs. I’m addicted. Every time I see her, it’s all I think about. My skin itches for the feel of her wrapped around me, for the sound of her sweet moans echoing through my ears, for the feel of her fingernails digging into my back.
Jesus…I fucking like her so much.
“And what was he asking?” She smirks over her coffee cup, looking so perfect with her makeup-free face.
“If he looked fat in a shirt.”
She pauses. “Wait, seriously?”
“Yes, I told you he’s exhausting. Then he went and told us that he ate a dozen donuts last night and woke up face-first in the box.”
Maple quickly covers her mouth and chuckles. “Oh God, did he really?”
