Love Remains The Same

Ahead Of Myself

Thought I was ready
Ready for someone else
But every time I get ahead of myself
Every time I get ahead of myself
Thought I was rock steady
But that I didn't need no help
But every time I get ahead of myself
——Ahead Of Myself, X Ambassadors

June 2018

Grayson was tired of all this.  He was tired of traveling, workouts, interviews with teams, interviews with media.  He was tired of his agent.  He wanted it over.

When he looked at his calendar, he suddenly realized that the draft was on a day that already had something noted.  Cait's birthday.  Shit. Just what he needed. Another reminder of her.

Bad enough that the draft was in New York, a place that always reminded him of her. He'd considered not attending for just that reason. But now it was actually on her birthday.

Would he ever be free of her? Ever be able to go through a day without thinking about her? Without picturing her? Without wanting her?

He slammed his hand down on the bed. It had been more than two months. It was time to move on.

*****

Cait had been thinking a lot about her father's offer to come back to New York. She knew she couldn't stay in Ireland forever. She loved horses, but not enough to spend the rest of her life here. And she needed a different kind of challenge from this.

But she also needed to know that she wasn't going to have to run into Grayson on a street, or have to see his picture every time she walked by a news stand. She needed him to be drafted by a team that was not in New York. Otherwise, she was going to have to talk her father into moving the corporate headquarters to another location. One without an NBA franchise.

*****

Grayson wanted to go check the men's room for a window to crawl out of, but he figured there wasn't much chance that there was one he would actually fit through. He'd finally allowed his agent to arrange a very public date, so that teams could see that he had moved on and was doing just fine. And to stir up some interest in his personal life that would persuade teams that their seats would be filled with young women who would pay full price and then some to ogle the cute and very eligible draft pick.

In theory, it sounded fine. He could get through one dinner, right? Unfortunately, the vapid, simpering actress across the table from him was about as deep as a mud puddle. As much as he hated conversation, he'd tried asking the last book she read, but hadn't had the heart to tell her that reading her own reviews in Rolling Stone and People Magazine didn't count. He'd tried to feign interest in her latest romcom, but the plot sounded so completely far-fetched he couldn't even do that.

And he tried not to think about what Cait would say about him sitting at this table with this girl. But try as he might, he could hear her voice, at its snarkiest, in his head, asking him if he thought it was safe to allow this bubbleheaded bimbo to actually use a sharp knife. He shouldn't have worried about it, because she only ate three lettuce leaves anyhow.

But the worst moment came after dinner, when he delivered her back to her condo and she batted her lashes and asked him to come in for a while. He couldn't do it. He wanted nothing more than to escape this nightmare and get the fuck back to his hotel. Alone. So he made an excuse about having an early work out and told her that he'd have to take a rain check. That was a mistake. Before he could turn around, she had attached herself to his lips and her tongue was halfway down his throat.