Brielle

eight

BRIELLE

My mouth waters at the sight of the food placed in front of me. After putting away the skates me and Grayson used, including him putting the skates I used in his locker for 'future times' we headed to the food arena.

And now we're sat opposite each other, with food currently being placed on our table by my new best friend, Sammuel.

When I say food, I mean food. Lots and lots of it, seeing as Grayson eats a shit ton and I eat quite a bit because I fucking love food- we have about six plates on our table.

He will probably eat most of them, but I'll have a few. Probably the fries and burger. He can have the pasta and rice dishes- you know the carbohydrates.

"So when you said, you'd rather fuck Cindy Kimberly than Paris Hilton you were being serious?" I gape, mouthing hanging open.

Grayson doesn't even seem a little bit affected as he sits in front of me, "Dead serious."

My eyes narrow, I mean Cindy Kimberly is hot. But in my opinion, Paris Hilton is way hotter. And again, I didn't believe it because every girl I've heard he's 'hooked up' with have been blonde.

"I don't believe it," I sigh, picking up a fry and putting it in my mouth. Only to screw my face in disgust when I realise it hasn't got salt on it.

"Well believe it babe," Grayson smirks, beginning to eat his food. Which is a mixture of a million different dishes.

After sitting in comfortable silence for a while, we eat our food before light music begins playing from the speakers.

"So when's your next match?" I ask, starting conversation as Grayson leans back in his chair, leaning one arm against the chair next to him.

"Saturday," He supplies, staring at me before looking at the food court around us.

I nod slowly, going back to my food, watching his large frame lean further onto the table as he crosses both arms and inches forward.

"Why you thinking about coming?" Grayson asks, his lips tugging into a small smirk before grabbing one of my fries.

I swat his hand away, "Just because you've lived with me for a few weeks now, doesn't mean you can steal my fries."

Grayson thinks it over before placing the fry in his mouth and smirking slightly.

"You didn't answer my question," He says, narrowing his eyes slightly at me, waiting for an answer.

My eyes narrow back, "Would it matter if I said yes?" I ask just as confusion creeps over his features.

He thinks it over a few times, before looking backwards to see if anyone is listening. Only before spinning back round to face me, smirking.

"It would matter," Grayson begins, making my eyebrows raise. "Only if you didn't wear my jersey, then we'd have a problem."

My head tilts to one side as I inspect him, looking over his features for any kind of joke. But he's being serious, he actually wants me to wear his jersey.

"Oh really?" I hum, teasing him, "And what about my brother's jersey? Shouldn't I be supporting him?"

Grayson scowls, "I don't give a fuck. Wear my jersey Brielle, and then I won't have a problem with you coming."