The F It List - Alexis Winter Page 0,14

drink. It’s the least I can do considering he’s helping me with my Fuck It List, plus he did buy me dinner after all.

I grab us both a beer out of the fridge and go to sit next to him on the couch. “So is there anything I need to know to prepare myself for golf this weekend?”

He takes a drink and thinks it over. “Golf just takes practice. You have to perfect your swing and the amount of force you’re applying to the ball. Then you have to factor in distance and wind. You’ll get the hang of it.”

“So I’ve been looking up campsites,” I say, grabbing my laptop. “I’m thinking Camp Bullfrog Lake. It isn’t far and they have a lake for fishing and boating, not to mention trails to hike. What do you think?” I show him the website and he looks everything over.

“Yeah, that looks good to me. You should make a reservation.”

“Yeah? When are you free?”

He shrugs. “Every weekend. We’re going golfing this weekend, so why don’t you make it for next weekend?”

“Yeah?”

He nods. “Yes. I think I have most of the gear too.”

“You do?” I ask, surprised. I didn’t peg him as the outdoorsy type.

“I have fishing poles and a tent. Oh, and a cooler. So all we’ll really need is food and some cookware.”

“I’ll get that if you’re bringing the rest,” I tell him, clicking around to book our trip.

He holds up his beer bottle and I clink mine against it.

The rest of the week goes by pretty quickly considering all the work I had to do. Grayson and I are becoming quick friends rather than just work friends. He’s even helped me knock a couple more things off my list—easy things like getting drunk on a work night. I felt like shit the next day, but so did he, and he made me laugh every time I bumped into him and he pretended to be a zombie. We’ve spent the entire week together and it no longer feels weird or forced like I thought it would. Grayson doesn’t make a big deal out of things, so oftentimes I forget he’s only around to help me with the list. Now he’s just another friend who makes life more fun.

Tomorrow is Saturday and our golf date. He’s forcing me to get up at the butt crack of dawn and I’m the furthest thing from a morning person. If I have to get up that early, I have to go to bed before the sun goes down, which was exactly my plan until he arrived on my doorstep with a pizza in hand.

“What are you doing here?” I ask when I open the door.

He holds the pizza up higher. “Dinner. Duh.” He walks right past me into the living room, where he sits on the couch and puts the pizza box on the table. He grabs the remote and turns on the TV, then opens the box and pulls out a slice of pizza.

I follow him down the hall and into the living room. “I already ate,” I lie.

He looks over at me and I see his eyes look me up and down. It’s only now that I realize I’m in a tiny pair of cotton shorts and a tank top with no bra on since I was getting ready for bed. “No, you haven’t. Come on. Come eat.”

I let out a long, annoyed breath even though I’m anything but annoyed. I flop down on the couch. “You know, if I have to get up before the sun, I have to go to bed early.”

“You’ll get plenty of sleep. Come on . . . eat and watch some TV with me. I’m bored as fuck and my roommate is out on a date. I don’t have anyone to hang with. I’ll let you pick the show,” he offers.

I take the remote from him. “I didn’t know you had a roommate. Does he work with us?”

“He did over a year ago when he got his dream job in the design department, but since then, he’s quit and has been doing it on his own. He makes a lot of book covers and magazine covers, plus he does some freelance work. He’s pretty good, actually.”

I settle on a channel and put down the remote to pick up a slice of pizza. “That’s cool. What’s it like living with someone else? I don’t think I could do it.”

He shrugs. “As long as you have respect for each other,

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