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Not that I would let him touch me anyway, but his words still sting. Rejection hangs in the air. Before tonight, I thought Graham was maybe… cute, like a puppy that isn’t the brightest bulb in the box. An idiot, sure. But this…? I was completely wrong. I guess there’s a first time for everything.
Briggs shoves him lightly. “Shut the fuck up, you’re drunk.”
Graham nods. “Shitfaced. I’m headed to bed.” He pops the remainder of the pizza into his mouth and drains the water bottle in front of him. “See you in the morning. Don’t forget, we’ve got that appearance at the arena. Still trying to fix your reputation, dick.”
I push off from the hallway wall and dart back to the living room, seething the entire way.
What a fucking dick.
The next morning, I wake up with Graham standing over me. Popping one eye open, I peer up and see the smug grin on his lips. His dark blonde hair is tousled, like he just woke up, and he’s still wearing last night’s clothes.
“Why are you creepily hovering over me?”
He smirks and holds out a coffee cup from Starbucks. “Got you coffee. As a sorry for stumbling in so late last night. We went out with some guys from the team, and they brought out shots,” His shoulders shake as he shudders. “Never drinking tequila again.”
I think back to the conversation I overheard last night, and anger bubbles inside me again.
“No thanks.”
Sitting up, I stretch and get up, sashaying toward the kitchen in search of a Nespresso pod.
I wouldn’t touch that coffee if it was the last cup on the planet.
“Uh why?” he says, trailing behind me.
I whip around to face him. “Is there a reason you’re still here?”
“Because I brought you coffee.”
Kind of funny that to my face he’s flirty and charming as can be but last night was a completely different story when he thought no one was listening. Clearly, he’s the kind of man who can’t be trusted.
“Mmm. Sorry, but I’m way too independent to take coffee from a man.”
His mouth opens, then closes, and before he can speak, Briggs strolls through the door. He’s got a red spot on his cheek and dried drool along the corner of his mouth.
“Run along boys.”
“Thanks for letting us crash, Em,” Briggs calls from over his shoulder. “Let’s go Romeo,” he says to Graham.
Graham stares at me for another beat, then shakes his head and follows behind Briggs.
I shouldn’t let his rejection affect me, seeing as how I didn’t want it in the first place, but now more than ever, I know exactly why I don’t do athletes.
They’re all the same.
Probably great guys, but when it comes to relationships? There’s no one worse.
Guys like Graham Adams will never have the chance to break my heart.
“Earth to Em.” Lea snaps her fingers in my face, bringing me back to the present. “You totally zoned out, where’d you go?”
“Just thinking. You know, I’m kinda shocked that you’d pick Graham. I totally thought you’d go for Asher. Hot and nerdy, with a dash of muscle. Totally your type,” I tease Lea.
Wait, that gives me an idea.
“Oh my god, I just had the best idea. Be right back.” I dash into the kitchen, straight to Reed’s “junk drawer” that looks like Marie Condo herself organized it and pull out a piece of paper and a pen, then rejoin the girls back in the living room.
When I walk through the door, I hold the paper up. “Since we’re picking our favorites. How about we rate them? The top ten players on the Avalanche team that if we were forced to spend a night with, we would spend one hot night with. PILF. Player I’d like to fuck. A scorecard of sorts.”
