Page 37 of Pucking Grey

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 toshit 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.”

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