Chapter 9 Ellis
Ellis
As soon as we pack our things, I make a flimsy excuse about leaving for the airport before my flight leaves me—never mind that I just got a text notification saying it’s going to be delayed.
I tell him he should stay in the hotel and relax for a while, since his flight’s not until later this afternoon.
Damon gives me an odd look but doesn’t say anything.
He thinks I’m a coward. Of course he does.
Predictably, I get to the airport way too early.
The screen with the estimated time of departure has the word “Delayed” flashing next to my flight number.
I slump down on an empty chair. There are a couple of people arguing with my airline’s counter staff, demanding to know what’s going on, and I’m sure the basic non-answers they’re getting back are only frustrating them even more.
What the fuck? Why did Damon spring that on me?
I’m not sure when I’ll see him again. We barely see each other unless there are face-to-face meetings in the office.
As agents, we’re all over the country, doing most of our work remotely.
Even if I know he’s leasing an apartment in the city like me and most of the other agents, the chances of running into him are next to nothing.
I absently scroll through my calendar, wondering when our next department meeting will be. Even if it’s going to be a Zoom meeting, seeing his actual face on a screen would probably be good for me.
Fuck. Get it together, Ellis. You’re the one who turned him down.
But… maybe… maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea?
While I’m adamant that I’m never going to be the type of person who does the whole dating shit, Damon makes me question my entire belief system.
Maybe I should just agree and give it a shot.
I’d be terrible at anything else other than a casual relationship.
Damon could bring me out to a nice restaurant, and what the fuck would we even talk about?
His awful taste in holiday movies? His cute obsession with banana bread?
The annoyingly adorable way he talks to his little sisters?
I mean, what even is with that dopey smile he gets when he sees them?
I wonder if he knows his voice rises an octave when he’s on the phone with his family.
Plus, he’d get tired of me easily. I’m a piece of work, as evidenced by how I made him take care of me because of a stupid cold.
He was so caring, though. So fucking attentive and thorough. He thought of things I’d never have bothered with, such as setting up alarms for medicine and to check my temperature. Who even does that?
Goddamn Damon, that’s who.
“Jesus Christ!” I yell, slamming my hands against my thighs. “This is ridiculous!”
A woman beside me jolts. She stares at me, mouth agape, but I don’t care enough to apologize for my outburst. She takes it as an excuse to start venting about how she completely agrees with me, going on and on about how these flight carriers are only out to get our money.
I make a good attempt at pretending to listen, and when my phone buzzes, I use that as a way to excuse myself.
Please be Damon, please be Damon…
Of course, it’s not Damon. Why the hell would it be? Instead, the name Westley Harrison is displayed on my screen.
He doesn’t usually call me, especially during holidays, and seeing his name yanks me back to the present. Fuck. What’s going on? I accept the call and press the phone tight to my ear, ducking away to the quietest spot I can find.
“Westley,” I say, my voice in a rush. “What’s going on?”
A deep, nervous laughter meets my ears. “Why do you sound panicked?”
“Because you never call me, and in my experience, unexpected calls from my clients are a cause for concern.”
Someone else laughs and I recognize it immediately. It’s Vaughn. That they’re together isn’t surprising, considering the two of them are attached at the hip. Frowning, I tighten the hold I have around my phone.
Vaughn must be closer now because his voice is clearer when he speaks up. “Ellis! We’ve got news.”
“Good or bad?” I ask.
Silence. I can practically see both of them glancing at each other, having a quiet conversation in that cute little language that they share. They do that a lot.
“Depends,” Vaughn says. “I think you might call it good news, though I think we’re about to send a shitload of work your way.”
“What do you mean…?”
“We’re together.” It’s Westley’s this time, and there’s a slight tremor in his voice.
“We… uh, it kind of just happened. Um. But, yes. We’re dating, Vaughn and I…
and since you’re our agent, we thought you should know before anyone else does.
Professional hockey players on the same team dating—that’d probably be quite a buzz, yeah? ”
What the?
“Sorry, Ellis,” Vaughn says. “This is probably out of the blue. Neither of us saw it coming, either.”
I almost let out a loud laugh but thankfully hold myself back.
Instead my mouth curves into a smile. “Yes,” I say softly.
“Not what I expected you to be calling about.” Never mind that everyone around them already knew they’ve been in love with each other for the better part of a decade.
Everyone else figured it out before they did.
“That’s good. I’m thrilled for you guys.
Are you going to keep it on the down low, or did you want to release a statement, or… ?”
“No, no!” Westley grunts. “We’re not going to be hiding it, and we’re going to tell the team. But… no statements. We wanted to tell you though, in case word got out, and we’re sure it’s going to be a huge thing.”
“Don’t even know why it should be a huge thing,” Vaughn grumbles. “Why do we have to go through all this fuss just because we’re two men?”
“Yes, you’re right,” I say. “Either way… however you two decide to go about this, I’ll support you.”
“Thanks, Ellis,” Vaughn says. There’s a humming noise of agreement from Westley. “Knew we wouldn’t regret signing on with you.”
“Aw, thank you,” I say, chuckling.
We talk a bit more. I ask them to tell me how it happened, and Westley lets out an embarrassed sound.
He’s always been the more docile of both of them.
On the other hand, Vaughn’s way too cheery as he tells me all about it.
It’s a fast-paced story involving a lot of tequila, their hometown, and a game of truth or dare.
I can’t help but smile as I listen to him.
Their story sounds like it came right out of a goddamn hallmark movie.
And despite not being as chatty as Vaughn, Westley interjects some details here and there. God, they sound so happy. And because I have no willpower, my thoughts stray to Damon. He’s going to be thrilled by this news. I just know it.
And maybe Vaughn’s a mind reader because he’s the one who brings Damon up. He says, “By the way, heard you and Damon got stuck together because of a snowstorm. Glad you two didn’t murder each other.”
I huff out a laugh. “Nah.”
Westley says, “Damon doesn’t hate Ellis.”
“I guess you could say that.” Vaughn makes a sound that I can’t decipher. My best description of it is an aborted scoff.
“Stop,” Westley says with a laugh. “Damon will kill you.”
I blink. “Does… Damon talk about me?”
“He gets grumpy when we mention you.” There’s humor in Vaughn’s voice. “We couldn’t figure it out at first since he seemed pretty happy abandoning us in the bar when he met you. Then we figured it’s because he’s never actually gotten over whatever happened that night.”
“Vaughn!” Westley reprimands. There are some shuffling sounds, and I think they’re wrestling over the phone. Finally, Westley says, “Ignore him. He’s… he’s happy, so he’s lost the ability to filter himself.”
“I’m happy, all right!”
A throaty laugh escapes me. I rub a hand over my face.
There are words that want to escape, but I’m not sure how to let them.
Would it even be appropriate? These two are my clients.
My clients. And even if they’ve just told me about their personal life, they were kind of obligated to do so on a professional level.
But then again, being appropriate has never been my forte.
“I don’t think I ever got over that night either,” I admit, too softly. In the ensuing silence, I almost think they don’t hear me over the airport’s noise.
“I knew it,” Vaughn murmurs, probably more to his boyfriend than to me.
Before they can say anything more, I speak again. The question that’s on the tip of my tongue comes out. “Aren’t you two scared?”
“Of?” they say in unison.
“Dating. Messing up. You two are the best of friends, and if this doesn’t work out, then there’s no turning it back.”
They’ll be left with lingering bitterness.
I’ve seen it time and time again with Dad.
I saw how he crumbled when Mom left him, and I saw the string of girlfriends he had after her.
Same thing went for Mom. Relationships never made any fucking sense to me, not with how miserable they made my parents.
“I’d rather give it a shot than think of the what-ifs forever,” Vaughn says. “And I’ve been thinking of the what-ifs for a very long time.”
I purse my lips together.
These two have been in love with each other for almost half their life. They’ve been best friends for that long, too. The downfall of them breaking up would be horrible, yet… they’re not scared.
And Damon? All we have is a one-night stand, a couple of snappy interactions in the office, and days cooped up in a hotel room.
What… what am I so scared of?
If Westley and Vaughn are so ready to risk what they have, why can’t I?
Why can’t I fucking do what everyone else can do so easily?