Page 64 of Just for the Cameras
Graydon:Are you going to be able to work out tomorrow morning with me? It was uncomfortable watching you walk today.
My expression falls flat, because this freaking jerk.
Maple:Yes, I can work out with you tomorrow.
Graydon:If you get hurt, I’m not responsible.
Maple:I’m not going to get hurt.
Although my hamstrings are so tight that I worry if I bend forward, they might snap, but he doesn’t need to know that.
Graydon:Maybe we’ll do something different.
Maple:Do whatever you want, just know, I can hang.
Graydon:Sure.
Maple:Was that said with sarcasm?
Graydon:Really up to you to decipher.
Maple:You just keep finding ways to irritate me, don’t you?
Graydon:You tell me.
Maple:God, you’re so infuriating.
Graydon:Yet you keep texting me.
Maple:Because I was trying to be nice and post a picture of you that you thought was flattering. Next time, I’ll make sure to post an extremely unflattering picture.
Graydon:Good luck finding one.
Oh yeah…challenge accepted.
I pull up the internet on my phone and type in his name, then go straight to images. Immediately it’s an inundation of shirtless pictures of Graydon.
Dear God.
Him shirtless and in the gym.
Shirtless on the field wearing just his football pants with his hands on his hips.
Shirtless and sitting on the ground, looking out toward the stands.
Shirtless at a photo shoot.
Pictures of his biceps.
His butt.
His intimidating stature.
I pick up my wine and take a large gulp as I scroll and scroll…and scroll.
Even when he’s angry, he looks hot.
There isn’t one single thing I could use for fodder.
