Page 233 of The Crown of Gilded Bones (Blood and Ash 3)
A. Zolkov
I will helpu
Grayson
Jesus fucking Christ, no. All right, I’ll set it up. Leave me alone, I’m making dinner.
A. Zolkov
can get laid after dinner
I consider blocking his number for the evening, but compromise by locking it and putting it facedown on the counter. Unfortunately, Z did exactly what he set out to accomplish—now I can’t stop thinking about dating apps or getting laid. It has been a ridiculously long and embarrassing time since I’ve been out with another guy, let alone had one in my bed. Maybe Ishouldset up a profile. It couldn’t hurt, and it’s not like I have to worry about running into any of my teammates on there. I could make it as anonymous as possible—not talk about hockey and use a pseudonym.
Drumming my fingers on the counter, I look down at my phone.You could always set it up and delete it if you don’t like it,I reason with myself.You don’t have to go through with anything if you don’t want to.
I wait until the burgers are sitting on the grill before I download the app and start setting up a profile. Even though I’m only twenty-nine years old, I sometimes feel ancient to some of the younger players. This is one of those things that makes me feel that way. Dating apps are just so impersonal and shallow. I feel as though I’m signing myself up for a meat market. Which, I suppose, in a way I am: 6’7”, 252 pounds, come and get it if you want some.
“Christ, this is so stupid,” I mutter, as I set the picture Z sent me as the profile picture. Flipping the burgers, I pause over my name. I can’t put Grayson, obviously, since it’s not exactly a common name here and my goal is to be as anonymousas possible. Brody seems safe, since only my teammates call me that and the odds of them finding my profile are laughably slim. I type it in before I can second-guess myself, post the profile, and immediately shut the app down.
I hear the front door open and Remy calls out to me that he’s home from his run. In my pocket, my phone vibrates through several notifications, and despite telling myself how uninterested I am, my fingers itch to pull it out and check. Before I can, the back screen door slides opens and Remy’s sweaty head pokes out. He grins, eyes flicking between me and the smoking grill.
“How was the run?” I ask him.
“Good! Nice night for it. How much time do I have?” He nods toward the grill.
“Not long. Eat sweaty,” I advise, and he laughs.
Stepping out onto my patio, he comes close enough that I can smell him over the burgers. My phone buzzes through another notification, but I ignore it in favor of Remy. Nobody on a dating app will be half as good, anyway.
CHAPTER THREE
Remy
Wiping off the bathroom mirror,I squint at my reflection. The lighting in here is actually pretty good, and my six-pack looks more defined than it really is. Adjusting the towel so that it’s obscenely low on my hips, I angle my torso and try to flex as I take a picture. It takes me so long to get a shot I’m happy with, most of the steam has evaporated. Looking down at the picture, I crop it so that my head is cut off and take a moment to acknowledge how embarrassing this whole thing is.
Drying off and pulling on my favorite ratty sweatpants, I pad across the hall to my bedroom. Flopping down on my stomach, I tuck the pillow under my chin and text Alex a screenshot of my profile.
Alex
Who the fuck is Ree and howdid he get your abs?
Remy
Har har. That’s me. I didn’t want to use my real name in case some creep is on here.
Alex
It’s a fucking dating app, everyone is a creep. I will remind you: you’re looking to have fun, experiment, get out of your comfort zone a little bit. You’re not looking for your soulmate.
Remy
You’re right. Look good, though? Like, would you hit that if you saw it?
Alex
Why do you think I befriended you all those years ago? I’ve been trying to hit that for years.
Remy