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Prologue
4:13 am. Text to Gray Grayson from unknown source.
Unknown: Mr. Grayson, my father tells me he lent you my car. I don’t really care if he’s going to sign you or not. As said agent’s daughter, I know football players and their ways. So let me be clear. There will be no shenanigans taking place in it or you’ll answer to me. You want to hook up with one of your women, do it in a bed and not in my car.
Sincerely, Ivy Mackenzie.
GrayG: Hey, Miss Mac. You do realize your car is a bubblegum-pink Fiat 500, right? Even if I could get it up surrounded by all that heinous pink, the car is better suited for Lilliputians. So don’t worry, there will be no shenanigans (Shenanigans? Srsly? What are we, 80?) anywhere near the car. I’m not about to pull a hamstring in the pursuit of pleasure.
—Btw, beds are overrated. Branch out a little.
IvyMac: You’re schooling me on my use of shenanigans? Really, Mr. Lilliputian? I don’t know whether to choke on the hypocrisy or be impressed that you know what a Lilliputian is.
I won’t make mention of your pink phobia, and I don’t care where you do your business. Just so long as it isn’t in my car.
GrayG: Yes, I read. Contain your shock. Or maybe chill. I think you’re developing a fascination with my bzness.
IvyMac: Ok. Fine. I was an ass. Of course you read. Read this: one scratch on that car and you bought it.
GrayG: It’s a tempting offer. I mean, who wouldn’t want this car? I’m assuming you take gumdrops as currency?
IvyMac: Sure do, Cupcake. But the car’s not for sale.
GrayG: I see you’ve discovered my inherently sweet and tasty nature. Wait until you taste my frosting.
IvyMac: Eww...Keep your frosting to yourself!
GrayG: Heh. So why are we having this conversation at 4 in the morning? Don’t you sleep?
IvyMac: Sorry. I’m in London. It isn’t four in the morning here. Hey, shouldn’t you be sleeping? Why are you answering my texts anyway? ;-)
GrayG: I don’t know. Some previously unknown masochistic need to argue over a powder-puff car?
IvyMac: I always thought tight ends loved pain.
GrayG: Naw, we bring on the pain, Mac. And have awesome asses. Obviously.
IvyMac: Okay, I’m going now.
GrayG: K. Bye.
IvyMac: Bye.
GrayG: See you.
GrayG: Or not. Because you’re in London.
IvyMac: Gray?
GrayG: Yep.
IvyMac: Go to sleep.
GrayG: K. Night. Or morning. Or whatever.
GrayG: Mac? Hello? Right. You’re gone.
A few hours later...
