Southern Grace

Jared’s P.O.V
“You seriously need to paint this place.” Eric said, collapsing down on the couch in the living room. He looked around the walls with a slightly disgusted look on his face, before shrugging and messing with his phone.

“Yeah dude,” Jordan said, parking himself in the armchair in the corner, “it’s kinda bland in here. Even Sid’s house is more colorful than this.”'

“But Sid has Maggie,” Eric pointed out from the couch, and Jordan nodded in agreement, “But seriously, Jare. I feel like I’m in a box here.”

“Well excuse me for my lack of décor,” I snapped, knocking Eric’s legs off the makeshift coffee table on my way to the couch, “but I my mind has been preoccupied with more important things than how my house looks!”

“Boobs and beer don’t count.” Jordan quipped from the chair, and I threw an empty beer can at him. Although they were being really annoying, they were right. The house was kind of boring. Beige walls mix with beige carpet and hardly any furniture to speak of really didn’t scream “home” to anyone. I’d been living here for a few months, but it really didn’t look like it.

I’d been a wreck when Jim had called me to give me the news. I was finally going to be playing in the NHL. I’d called mom and dad right after, and although we’d never admit it to anyone, we’d acted like teenage girls at the news. After the congratulatory phone calls from Eric, Marc and Jordan, (all variations of “Fuck yeah, dude! About damn time.”) Tanya had called me and told me Eric had told her the news, and that she’d found a place right outside of Raleigh that was “adorable” (whatever the hell that meant), was in a good neighborhood, and was a good distance from everything. I’d thanked her immensely and driven right up to Raleigh.

I took a look around my bare house again, and sighed. “I guess you’re right-“

“Of course we’re right!” Jordan interrupted, earning a scowl from Eric.

I rolled my eyes before continuing, “I just didn’t want to get to settled, just in case, ya know?”

Eric and Jordan both gave me sympathetic looks and I groaned, throwing a hand over my face. “Don’t look at me like that, guys.” I said.

“We’re trying to be nice but alright, asshat.” Jordan said, throwing the can back at me.

“Guys.” Eric said in his ‘big brother voice,’ “Jared, you’re doing great. You were doing awesome in the AHL and you’re going to do awesome here too, ok? Jordan, stop throwing the can at Jared.”

“But he started it!” Jordan whined, and Eric shot him another look.

“Now I’m finishing it.”

“Damn older brother.” Jordan muttered, and that turned into a wrestling match. I sat on the couch, amused, as I watched Eric tackle Jordan to the ground, making him beg for Uncle. After a few minutes of watching them mess around, I pried Eric off of Jordan.

“Get your coat on, guys. We’re going to the hardware store.”

After Eric and Jordan finally got ready, we shot Jeff a text telling him to meet us at Home Depot. (Jeff was Eric’s idea-something about ‘younger players bonding’.) I walked out behind Eric and Jordan, and locked up while they talked amongst themselves.

“Look at that.” Jordan whispered, talking to Eric. I whipped my head around to see what they were looking at. “Jared, you didn’t tell us you had a hot neighbor.”

“What?” I whispered back, searching for the woman they were talking about. I found her across the street, trying to shut the door. She looked short-ish, 5’6” maybe, with long brown hair thrown into one of those buns that I see girls wear at the grocery store all the time. She had on some boots, skinny jeans, and a hoodie with a scarf wrapped tightly around her neck. She was trying to shut the front door, her leg ducking back behind it occasionally to keep something back in. Suddenly, a small black and brown blur shot out from in between her legs, and started running around the yard. She giggled a bit, before chasing the puppy around the fenced yard.

“Remington! Get back here!” She said, still giggling as the little dog yipped around the yard, dodging her. After a few minutes of chasing the puppy around the yard, she ducked around a tree and snatched him up, gigging the entire time. After securely putting the puppy back inside the house she made her way over to her car, cranked the engine and drove away.

“Hey Jare.” Jordan said, eyebrow raised in a very suggestive manor.

“Shut up Jordan.” Eric and I said in unison, before walking to the car.

“But seriously, Jared, who was that?” Jordan asked once we were situated in the car.

“Aren’t you married?” I asked, before starting the car.

“Yeah, but maybe I wanna set Jeff up. Poor guy needs help.”

I laughed before pulling out of the driveway, Eric, Jordan and I bickering back and forth over Jeff skills-or lack thereof.



Grace’s P.O.V

I stood in the paint isle at Home Depot, looking at the paint chips studiously. The entire house was one boring beige color scheme. In the week I’d been in Raleigh, all I’d managed to do was get the boxes moved into the appropriate rooms and get the water and electricity turned on. I needed to get everything sorted out and put into its place, especially in the kitchen. All I’d ate in the last few days had been drive through Subway and the occasional Taco Bell run. My nana would be sick to her stomach if she saw what I’d been eating lately.

I had yet to talk to any of the neighbors either. There had just been too much to do. Thankfully the house had a fenced in back yard so I could let Remington out to do his business without having to keep him on a leash.

I glanced back to the paint chips. It didn’t matter how many times I went over them, my eyes kept coming back to the purple section. Most of the house was going to have a more subtle color palette, but something about those purples caught my eye. I kept glancing at the paint chips, trying to decide between ‘amethyst’ and ‘wisteria’, when suddenly I heard, “Holy shit dude, that’s her.”

My head shot up, trying to locate the sound. The isle was empty, save the 4 men at the end of the row. The redhead is flushing comically, embarrassed to be caught staring. The brunette, the shortest of the group, is looking around confused, while the blondes are staring off in different directions. I smiled to myself before rolling my eyes, going back to the paint chips.

I continued to pick out paint for the rest of my house, glancing back to the group every now and then. It seemed they were having trouble. The redhead, who one of the guys called Jared, couldn’t decide what color paint he wanted. The blonde, (with the dimple in his chin), kept shooting down his samples, saying they were too ‘boring’. The other blonde kept shushing the first and trying to coax Jared into a decision. The brunette, who they called Jeff, kept glancing at me and back to the boys, before he’d glance down at his phone and start over.

As I as deciding between two lovely shades of green for the guest bathroom, I felt a pair of eyes upon me again, making the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I glanced out of the corner of my eyes to see the redhead staring at me. He sent me a sheepish smile knowing he was caught, and I returned it, a faint blush tainting my cheeks.

The blonde (with the dimple), caught sight of this interaction, and started elbowing the redhead in the ribs, smiling and saying what I assumed to be some very suggestive things.

I blushed even harder, before going back to the paint chips. However, I felt nervous, and turned to see four pairs of eyes on me. All the men were talking among themselves, glancing at me occasionally. I felt myself get nervous under their stare. Why are they looking at me? I thought to myself. Feeling uncomfortable, I quickly grabbed my chips and headed over to the counter, out of the view of the men.

After the older man behind the counter mixed my paint, I finished grabbing the rest of my supplies before heading back out to the car.

The entire drive back to the house all I kept thinking about was the four men. Why did they keep staring at me? Did they know me? I shrugged it off, it was a big city. I’d probably never see them again.

I smiled to myself as I saw Remington perched on the windowsill when I pulled into the driveway. I could see his little ears flopping through the window, (Note to self: Get curtains.) I grabbed my stuff before trudging into the house, stopping to drop my bags and cuddle Remington. I kissed the tip of his nose before setting him down. I changed clothes, turned on jazz music, and started the monumental task of painting my house.