Page 9

“What are you doing?” Grey asks as I hold him tightly from behind. He takes my hands, forcing me to release him as he turns around.

“I’m still a little drunk,” I admit.

“Okay,” he questions me. My arms are wrapped around him. My nose nuzzles his jacket that smells of cologne and really good detergent. And he’s so tall and wide. A lot more to handle than Matt.

I mutter, “And I was wondering why you can’t just admit that you want to sleep with me?”

“What?” he snickers.

“It would be a fun confession,” I admit, releasing him. “But I’m trying to understand why I need to live with you when all you have to do is admit you want me in your bed.”

He grabs my face, rubbing his thumb over my bottom lip. He whispers, “If I wanted to have you in my bed, you would be. Instead, I’m playing hockey with you.”

“Does that mean we’re friends?” I tease.

He releases me, but I really wish he would put his hands on me. “Men and women can’t be friends.”

“Why not?” I ask.

“Because they just can’t. Now, let’s make this fair and start in the middle.”

He places the puck in the center. His eyes are on the puck while I stare at him. I use all my strength to hit his hockey stick out of his hand, but his grip is too strong, and it doesn’t faze him. It puts me at a disadvantage because now he has the puck. I quickly turn, but he’s already shooting his shot into the goal.

The puck slides right into the net. Fuck!

He spins around, smiling at me. “Pack your things, bunny. You’re moving in with me.”

I think I could vomit. No, seriously I could take this hockey stick and whack him in the head. Hard. He has a stupid smirk on his face, and it needs to stop.

“You’re awfully too good with that stick.” If only I wasn’t drunk, I could have been better competition. I really think I could whoop his ass – if I had my head on right.

“That and other things,” he smiles.

I let him walk into that one so that I could reply, “Taking advantage of a drunk girl, huh?”

“I won fair and square. You’re moving in with me.”

Tickle me pink. I’m staring at him, wondering why the hell I need to move in with him over this.

“Come on,” he says before I can say anything. “You need to pack your things.”

“You think you are so funny,” I scowl.

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this right now.” It’s almost midnight, and I’m packing my bags. “For a whole month, Grey?”

“An entire month. To make it fair, I won’t sleep with anyone.”

“God, I hope not if I’m staying in your bed. How awkward would that be?”

“Nothing I haven’t done before,” he jokes, but I’m truly disgusted as I glance over my shoulder. He smiles, full teeth showing, wide and brighter than the sun. There it is. Greyson in his glory, more beautiful than any man I have ever laid eyes on. There isn’t a doubt in my mind about Grey having a threesome. Ew.

“You’re fast on the ice. Did your dad teach you?” he asks as I pack my bags.

“Why? Are you impressed by this puck bunny?”

“You have a weird obsession with being a puck bunny.”

I shove my underwear in a tiny bag. “What? Puck bunnies are hot. I always wished I could be one.”

His brows furrow in question.

“They’re always dolled up and cute at the games, ready for any type of hockey stick to be thrown their way. I’m very far from that. And plus, they’re not all whores. My dad married one.”

“Ah, see. I don’t think someone like you wants to sit pretty in the stands. You were born on the ice.”

I throw random pieces of clothing into another bag. “The funny thing about that is my dad missed my birth for hockey.”

“What?”

“Yeah, he had an important game that day.”

“Wow, I love hockey, but I would never miss my daughter’s birth over it.”

I look over at him, not believing that for one second. My father is a far better man than Greyson Cress. Come on. “It’s funny you say that because when I told Matt, he was all ‘I would miss all my kid’s birth for the Stanley Cup.’”

“Your dad won the Stanley Cup… on your birthday?”

I nod my head, probably making the same proud face my father puts on when people ask him about his career. I am told how much I look like him. “He did. He always called me his lucky charm. It was the best day of his life. Stanley cup and his only daughter.”

Grey mutters, “Uh, are you almost done? It’s getting late. You can finish packing tomorrow.”

We leave for his place, so I text Sydney.

Me: I am being held hostage

Sydney: What?

Me: Greyson

Sydney: Grey is holding you hostage… where? Me: His place

Sydney: WHAT! Tell me everything!

Me: I lost a bet, and he won. But I guess I kind of won too. I bet him that he couldn’t keep it in his pants for a month. He bet me to stay with him for said month.

Sydney: What is happening!? Is he into you? Me: Nope. He is still saying that he won’t sleep with me AND he said we’re not friends. This is going to be so not fun

Sydney: Matt is going to shit his pants when he finds out

Me: That’s why I’m doing it

“Why are you smiling?” Grey mutters as we park at his house. He glares over at my phone, so I hide the screen from him.

“Excuse me,” I scoff. “This is a private conversation.”

“Admit it, bunny… You’re happy Matt is going to shit his pants .”

I scoff. “Are you already snooping around, not giving me my privacy?”

“Why the hell do you think you’re even here?” He jabs at me. “Let’s get inside.”

“So demanding.” The house light is on, and I’m terrified of what I’m about to walk into. “Are we pretending in front of your roommates?”

“Why wouldn’t we?” he asks.

“I…I…” I stare at the house. “I don’t think I can pretend to like you twenty-four-seven.”

“Sucks for you.” He opens the car door and steps out. I watch him in disbelief. What’s even his deal? I don’t understand what he fully gets from this besides the pleasure of torturing me. Wait, is that his plan?

I step out with my bag and say, “Are you planning to tie me up and starve me?”

He chuckles. “If that’s your thing, bunny. Sure.”

“It is so not my thing. I love food,” I say, marching after him. My breath sucks in when I see a shadow in the window. I have no idea who else he lives with. “Grey,” I call out. He stops before opening the door. My heart races, anxiety screaming through my body. “I don’t think I can live with you. It was all fun and games until I got here. The show is over, so take me home.”

“You lost, Madison. Come on.” He dismisses my feelings and walks into the house. Whoever is on the inside is happy to see him until they question why he left the door open. He glances back at me. Ace, the goaltender who knows my brother quite well from all the lessons Ryan has given him, is gawking at my presence.

“What’s this?” Knox asks Grey.

“None of your fucking business,” Greyson snaps.

“Do you have a bag?” Ace asks me, eyeing the bag on my shoulder. I guess that’s a fair question because this is pretty confusing. Me. Greyson? It doesn’t add up. “Usually he’s lip-locked with someone. I’ve never seen a chick with a bag walking in here.”

“Hey, guys.” I wave awkwardly. “So, I’ll be staying here for a bit –“

“Staying?” Knox questions.

Ace glances at Grey. “Wilder girl? Do you know what you’re doing?”

He shrugs them off, clearly not afraid of anything.

Ace walks to him. “Dude.”

Grey says, “I’m not forcing her. She’s coming at her own will, right, Maddie?”

I press my lips together, feeling awfully uninvited. “Uh, yeah, but if you guys have a problem with it –”

“A problem?” Ace throws up a white flag with those hand gestures. “No problem here.”

Grey reiterates, “There’s no problem.”

“Just surprised is all,” Ace continues, staring at me like a deer in headlights. I glance down at my outfit to make sure nothing is out of place. Nope, he’s not being awkward because I had a nip slip or anything like that. We’re good.

I walk past the boys, entering the hallway. Grey is close behind me. He points at the last door on the left. I uncomfortably walk into a dark room. Grey walks in behind me, turns on the light, and shuts the door behind him.

“You live with other people,” I state as he walks around me to his nightstand.

“Sure do,” he says while I stare at the one and only bed in the room.

“I thought I could sleep on the couch, but…” I trail off, quickly learning that my side of the bed will be on the right. I don’t think the couch is an option now because I am not sleeping at the center of this household for everyone to see.

“You can sleep here.” He points to the right side as I assumed.

“It’s a good thing I’m still a little drunk.” I plop onto his soft bed, wondering who else has been on here. I inhale fresh clean laundry when I lay my head on the pillow. “Did you just wash your sheets?”

He nods.

Noted. Greyson Cress washes his sheets. Hot, mysterious, dickwad, and knows how to use a washer and dryer? It’s a miracle people.

“Did it smell like sex, and that’s why you washed it?” I scrunch my nose at him, pointing at the bed.

He ignores the question as he points over his shoulder. “Private bathroom is right there. You can use that dresser for your things after I clean out a drawer.”

“Aw,” I clutch my heart. “You’re going to clean out a drawer for me?”

He throws out a blanket, covering me with it. “This is for you because you look like a blanket hogger.”

“Oh,” I laugh, sitting up. “You – ” I point at his entire being. “Look like the blanket hogger, but I don’t mind because I bet you fart in yours, so…”

He takes his shirt off, displaying his stupidly ripped body. My god. I cover my eyes with the blanket. I shriek, “Do that in the bathroom, please. I’ve had enough of you for one night.”

I hear a door shut, so I peek my head out of the blanket. Thank god he’s out of sight. I can finally take a good look around his room. But there’s nothing to see. Not much personality. Nor any leftover plates or cups. Maybe I’ll spot a water bottle with yellow liquid in it? Nope. Nada. As I glance around, I notice how neat everything is.

I’m sorry but is Greyson clean? A neat freak? I shoot to my feet and start checking his drawers. Clothes are folded nicely. Books are stacked incredibly straight. I pull open a drawer and laugh when I see a vibrator. Oh, he is the ultimate player. Does he use this thing on women? Or just himself? Ew. Disgusting.

“What are you doing?” Greyson asks, and I yelp like a helpless dog that got bumped into by its owner. Shit.

“Me? Nothing.” I slam the drawer shut behind me. “Absolutely nothing.”

He’s still shirtless, and I don’t like it. He says, “Don’t even think about using that.”

I scoff. “Ew!” I whisper, “A vibrator? What’s wrong with you!”

He shakes his head, pulling his blanket open for himself. That’s when I notice that his bed is made. Ooh, he is going to hate living with me. Though I’m not the messiest person around, I can surely act like a slob to piss him off. I need him to call off this bet so that I can be in my own bed.

I climb under the blanket he gave to me and say, “I can’t remember the last time I had a sleepover.”

“You’re not going to talk my ear off, are you?”

I huff, annoyed. “You’re so rude, you know that?”

“Yeah, well I need sleep.”

I argue, “You told me you’re an insomniac.”

“Maybe I’ll sleep better with you here.”

I shut up so fast that my brain starts questioning itself whether I heard that right. My body stiffens, and I’m afraid of hearing the echo of those words in my head. Is he messing with me? Yes, of course, he is. What the hell?

I extend my leg and kick him. Oops. He adjusts himself, turning to me. I stare at the ceiling, shivering under his gaze. I’m still a little buzzed from the alcohol, and honestly, he’s a bit terrifying. Clearly not friendly.

I’m definitely not thinking straight if I believe that Grey is staring at me right now. Why would he be staring at me right now. My eyes slowly make their way to his. Yeah, he’s watching me.

“Are you really going to kick me?” he asks.

I curl my knees up, feeling like I’m in trouble, and mumble, “No.”

“None of us will get sleep if you do.” He points at me and says, “That’s your side. And this is mine.”

“Yup, got it,” I mutter and turn my back to him.

Good night to you too.

Asshole.