Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
That night was the beginning.
Elijah repeated his behavior from our one night together the following morning—he stayed for breakfast, and we talked. When he walked out the door, my heart sank. He never mentioned getting together. Though he’d said he wanted to see me again the night before, I wasn’t sure I believed him.
I was drowning my disappointment in a horror movie, popcorn, chocolate covered raisins, and sour candy when my phone chimed.
Thinking it was one of my friends, I waited a few minutes before I picked it up. I loved my friends, but when I was feeling like this, I wanted to wallow in solitude.
I dropped the phone in my popcorn bowl when I saw Elijah’s name on the screen.
“Shit. Damn. Shit,” I muttered as I fished it out.
Since the phone and case were covered in butter and popcorn crumbs, I carried it into the kitchen to clean it up before I even tried to read the text. It also gave me a minute to compose my racing heart.
Well, I tried to compose it. My heart rate hadn’t slowed much since I realized Elijah texted me.
Finally, I washed and dried my hands before I picked up my phone and clicked on the message banner.
Elijah: Whatcha doing, Brown Eyes?
Grier: Watching a scary movie and eating junk food.
Elijah: Sounds fun. Wish I was there. You could sit in my lap when you got scared.
I had to laugh.
Grier: Maybe you’d need me to comfort you instead.
Elijah: Ok. You could sit in my lap and comfort me.
I laughed again.
Grier: Do you have an obsession with me sitting in your lap?
Elijah:
Elijah: What are you doing tomorrow night? Planning the perfect murder?
Grier: Researching what causes lap-sitting obsession.
There was a long pause, and I could see the three dots moving in the bubble as he typed. Then, it disappeared. I was about to put my phone to the side when the bubble returned. A few moments later, his message came through.
Elijah: I volunteer as your research subject. I can start tomorrow night.
I bit my bottom lip as I stared down at his message. Was he implying he wanted to see me tomorrow? Before I could figure out how to word my question, my phone chimed again.
Elijah: Your place, 6 o’clock?
Okay, that was much clearer. He did want to see me. Before I could respond, another message came through.
Elijah: I imagine our first session will be overnight, so I’ll be prepared.
I snorted at the message, but excitement fizzled in my belly. This was what I hoped for after the night of Chris and Lucy’s wedding. I’d hoped it would be the start of something more. Something special.
No, wait. I couldn’t get ahead of myself just yet. He said he wanted to take it one day at a time. That wasn’t a guarantee of a relationship.
Letting myself enjoy the butterflies flitting in my belly and chest, I formulated my response.
Grier: My research will be extremely thorough, so plan for a long night.
Elijah: I’ll prepare myself. See you tomorrow, Brown Eyes.
Grier: Good night, Eli.
When I put my phone down and went back to my movie, I did it with a smile.
The next morning, I managed to drag myself out of bed and spruce myself up a little for brunch with my friends. I’d stayed up way too late watching scary movies and daydreaming about Elijah.
I really wanted to cancel and go back to bed, but this was our first friend brunch in nearly three months. Now that all my friends were happily ensconced in relationships, our twice-monthly brunches had turned to once every other month or so. Sometimes longer.
I knew it was only a matter of time before I only saw my friends a few times a year. I was happy for them and pleased they’d found their other halves, but I missed them. And I knew I would continue to miss them.
We tried hard to fit in time together, but all of our schedules were so hectic that it was difficult and would only become more so as they married and had kids.
As soon as I walked into the restaurant, I saw that Tanya and Yancy were already at the table.
The restaurant was well known for their mimosas and served groups with an ornate drink dispenser they sat in the middle of the table.
The dispenser was made to resemble a vintage cut crystal jar from the Victorian era but made with glass.
The dispensers weren’t all exactly the same and might be pink, green, or clear.
It was part of the reason we loved coming here for brunch.
There was already a pale green dispenser on the table between Yancy and Tanya, but Yancy was the only one with a champagne flute in front of her. Tanya’s short glass looked as though it contained cranberry juice.
They both grinned and got to their feet when they saw me approach the table.
Tanya pulled me in for a tight hug, her little baby bump nudging me. “It’s good to see you, Grier.”
I squeezed her back. “It’s good to see you, too.”
When Tanya released me, Yancy grabbed me. As she wrapped her arms around me, she said, “I see you’ve recovered from getting smacked in the face by a bouquet.”
I rolled my eyes. “I blame Chelsea for that.”
“Not Lucy?” Yancy asked as she released me.
“Her, too.”
Tanya and Yancy shot each other smirks, which made me sigh. “Can I at least get an adult beverage before y’all start giving me shit?”
Tanya laughed. “I suppose.”
As soon as we all sat down, the server came over with a water glass and champagne flute and set them on the table in front of me. She smiled as she stood next to me. “My name is Katie. Can I get you anything else right now or are we waiting until the rest of your party arrives?”
“I’d love a cappuccino,” I replied. “With an extra shot.
I needed the caffeine if I was going to make it through the day without a nap.
“Can we get a bread basket and mini butter board?” Tanya asked. “I’m starving, and I need something if I’m going to make it until our friends get here.”
Katie smiled again. “No problem.” She glanced at Yancy. “Anything for you?”
Yancy shook her head and took a sip of her mimosa.
When Katie walked away, Yancy put her glass down and asked, “How are things with you, Grier? I feel like I never get to talk to you now that you’re working with Davide and not having lunch with us every week. How is it working at the gallery?”
“I love it,” I answered. “Davide is easy to work with.”
A snicker came from behind me. “Did he pay you extra to say that?”
I glanced over my shoulder and saw Lucy and Chelsea standing behind me, both grinning.
“No, he didn’t. He is easy to work for.”
“Maybe if you’re not one of his artists,” Lucy quipped, rolling her eyes. “Because that man is so freaking demanding whenever I talk to him. He’s almost as bad as Chris was when I worked for him.”
It was my turn to roll my eyes. “I doubt that.”
“Yeah, I’m calling bullshit on that one, too,” Chelsea said. “I’m not sure anyone could be as demanding as Chris.”
“Except maybe my old boss,” I muttered. No one replied to that because they’d heard enough of my stories to know what I meant.
I got up and hugged Chelsea, then Lucy.
“How’s married life?” I asked Lucy as she and Chelsea sat down.
“Almost the same as girlfriend life except he thinks he gets to boss me around again.”
We all laughed.
“What about the honeymoon? Did you have fun?” Yancy asked.
“Oh, yeah. Though I think that’s where he got the idea that he could boss me around. I let him get away with it during my constant post-orgasmic haze.”
Our server, Katie, returned just as Lucy answered Yancy’s question, my cappuccino in her hand. She stopped next to me, her eyes wide.
“Oh, uh….” Katie closed her mouth and cleared her throat. “Let me get you some glasses and water. I’ll, um, be right back.”
She almost turned and walked away with my cup but seemed to remember at the last second that she’d brought it for me. Her smile was apologetic as she set the large, white cup and saucer in front of me before she scurried off.
“You should be ashamed of yourself,” Chelsea said to Lucy. “You frightened our poor server.”
“If she finds a post-orgasmic haze frightening, I feel bad for her,” Lucy retorted.
We all choked back laughs because Katie was already returning with two water glasses and champagne flutes.
“The bread basket and mini butter board will be out shortly. Can I get you anything else while you look at the menu?” she asked.
We all shook our heads. Conversation slowed as Lucy and Chelsea filled their champagne flutes from the dispenser. Lucy even grabbed my empty glass and filled it up, too, even though I was still sipping my cappuccino because I wanted to finish it while it was hot.
We chatted about nothing and everything until Katie returned to take our order and bring the bread basket and butter board.
As we dug in, Chelsea looked at me and asked, “Are you dating anyone?”
I froze with a slice of bread in one hand and a knife smeared with cinnamon sugar butter in the other. “I’m sorry. What?”
I think all of my friends leaned forward at the same time, like cats with prey in their sights and preparing to pounce.
“Holy shit! You’re dating someone?!” Chelsea asked, her voice much louder. “Who is he? When do we get to meet him?”
I dropped the bread on my plate, set my knife next to it, and reached for my full glass. Lifting it to my lips, I drained half of it before I answered. Could I consider two nights of insanely hot sex as dates? I decided yes.
“I am sort of seeing someone but it’s really, really new. As in, we’ve only been out twice, and we have plans for tonight.”
Lucy squealed and clapped her hands. “Who is he?”
I shook my head and drained the rest of my glass before holding it out to her to refill it. “I’m not answering that because nothing may come of it. Like I said, we’ve only been out twice, and our third date is tonight. For all I know, we may decide not to go out again.”
I really hoped that wasn’t the case, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up. If I didn’t hope, I wouldn’t be disappointed. I’d learned that the hard way since my grandparents died.
Chelsea pushed for a bit more information but in a playful way. Everyone else took me at my word and let it lie. We’d been friends long enough for them to know I wouldn’t share until I was ready.
The conversation moved on from that subject, and we ordered food and another jar of mimosas.
The atmosphere was light and fun, like our brunches before my friends started pairing off.
I hadn’t realized how much I missed spending time with them.
The fact that I was no longer having lunch with them several times a week didn’t help either.
Working at the gallery with Davide made me happy, but it also isolated me in a way I hadn’t been before.
I’d spent so much of my childhood in solitude and in homes where I felt like I didn’t quite belong.
My grandparents obviously loved me, but they didn’t really have the energy to keep up with their five-year-old granddaughter when I’d moved in with them.
Though they never said anything about having someone else take me, I’d worried they would do the same thing to me that my mother had and just drop me off somewhere, never to return.
I learned through therapy and lots of introspection that I needed to be around people I cared about.
And who cared about me. If I spent too much time alone I tended to spiral into anxiety and negativity.
I needed to spend time around people. I needed to feel loved and wanted. All humans need contact, but I always felt my need seemed to run deeper than everyone else’s. I craved the verbal acknowledgement that my presence wasn’t just appreciated but deeply desired.
Once food was eaten and another dispenser of mimosas was consumed, we paid our tickets and were heading out of the restaurant.
I’d ordered a rideshare to drop me off at the restaurant and Chelsea insisted that she could give me a ride home.
Well, her boyfriend, Landen, was driving us since we were both tipsy as hell.
Hugs were exchanged, and we all headed to our cars. Tanya had driven herself since she wouldn’t be drinking, but Lucy and Chelsea had both been dropped off by their guys. Before we reached Landen’s SUV, Chelsea put a hand on my arm, stopping me.
“Hey, I know you don’t want to get too deep into it right now, but if you need to talk to someone about this new guy you’re dating…I’m here.”
I smiled at her. “I know. I just…”
I shrugged because I couldn’t explain it.
It was just difficult for me to open up, even to people I loved and trusted.
I could be honest, and often was, but emotions made me feel vulnerable in a way I didn’t like.
The idea of telling Chelsea how hopeful I was and how disappointed I would be if this didn’t work out, well, it made my skin crawl.
I knew she would keep it to herself, even if I told her that it was Elijah I was seeing.
I didn’t understand how I had no problem setting boundaries for myself or stating my opinions, but I balked at letting someone see my emotions.
It was something I still struggled with in therapy.
My first instinct was to mull over my problems and feelings myself before I shared them with anyone else.
It was a little ridiculous considering that therapy was supposed to help me learn how to do that anyway.
“I know,” Chelsea said, interrupting my train of thought. “But I’m here if you need me. That’s all I’m saying.”
I nodded, biting my lip. Chelsea pulled me in for a tight hug.
“Is this a bad time?”
I snorted at Landen’s question and released Chelsea as we turned to face him, our arms still around each other.
“If it is?” Chelsea asked, arching a brow at him.
“Then, I guess I’ll have to wait.”
“Oh, my God. Quit giving him shit, woman,” I said to Chelsea, dragging her toward his SUV. “He’s driving our tipsy butts home.”
He smirked at us. “Maybe just Grier’s if Chels keeps it up.”
She stuck her tongue out at him. “Rude.”
“You knew that when you started dating me,” he retorted.
“And I’m beginning to regret it.”
“Flirt after you drop me off,” I interrupted before they could devolve into more bickering.
I swear, Chelsea and Landen bickered as foreplay. With every snarky one-liner, the sexual tension increased bit by bit.
I loved that my friend had met her match, but I couldn’t help but wish I had the same for myself.