9. Cory
Chapter nine
Cory
"Y ou cheated and you know it," Damon complains. Henry, Noah, and I share a pointed look.
For a professional basketball player, Damon has surprisingly terrible sportsmanship. It's particularly bad today. His fuse is nonexistent, and what is normally a friendly—well, mostly friendly—game of flag football with the brothers felt like a grudge match.
"What gives?" Henry asks, brushing at the fresh grass stain on the back of his shirt. What he should really ask is, " Why are you being such a dick, bro?", but Junior's way too proper for that. Unlike the rest of us, who are content to ignore whatever's turning Damon into a jackass until it goes away on its own, Henry prefers to face things head on, like a mature, sensible adult , he would say. Eye roll.
Hanging with Henry can be a bit like hanging with Dad sometimes, though he's definitely loosened up since he and Camila got together. Regular pussy tends to have that effect, though Henry didn't appreciate it when I pointed that out to him. Maybe he was pissed I referred to Camila as "regular pussy"? Whatever. Now he's yet another brother I'm not on the best terms with.
Damon chugs his Gatorade instead of answering. Uh oh. Something must really be wrong. Luckily, Adam will be back from his honeymoon next week. He and Damon are the closest.
"Well," Henry says when the silence turns awkward, "I'm heading back to Westchester. Mila's cooking tonight and I'm addicted to her mofongo."
"Gross, bro!" Noah jokes. "I don't want to hear about my brother's weird sex stuff!"
I laugh out loud when Henry just winks on the way to his car. Whoa! That would've gotten a rise out of the old Henry. Hopefully Camila comes to family dinner soon so I can meet this miracle worker in person.
Henry pulls into the Saturday afternoon traffic while the rest of us pack up and make our way to The Guthrie Inn. We don't go after every game—beer isn't known to help with post-workout recovery—but Damon could clearly use a drink. Despite the crowd, there are three empty stools at the bar.
"So," Noah swivels in his seat, addressing the group. "Who's next to fall in our merry band of brothers?"
Noah's met with blank stares, and he sighs dramatically in response.
"Adam's married," he explains, "Henry's woman gave Mr. Roboto a heart—"
"And a sense of humor!" I interject. Damon snorts under his breath.
"So, I ask again. Is anyone else planning to abandon the S.S. Bachelor for the uncharted seas of commitment?" Noah eyes us each meaningfully.
"And what if it's you ?" I ask Noah, who merely scoffs.
"I have neither the time nor the inclination to pursue anything serious," he answers.
"What he said," Damon adds, though I notice it's with nowhere near Noah's conviction. Hmmm .
"And you?" Noah counters, twisting on his stool to face me. "Or did you turn it back on me so you wouldn't have to answer?"
"As if," I reply. "Do you not remember why Adam, Henry, and I are fighting?"
"You're fighting because you said something stupid," Noah says. He and Damon both chuckle when my middle finger pops up reflexively.
"More like I dared to question mankind's misguided impulse to settle down, and they both got butthurt," I say, trying to keep the defensiveness from my voice. Noah rolls his eyes and I will my fists to unclench.
It's easier for everyone to paint me as the bad guy instead of admitting that yeah , fucking your paralegal when you're a named partner in a law firm is A) beyond cliché, and B) usually against the rules. Things might have worked out romantically for Henry and Camila, but he's still got a month left on his suspension from Bannister, Banks, Smith & Park.
And Adam? He and Maya had only been dating for, like, two months when he started bringing her to family dinner! True, two months is like two years for us, but I still think my skepticism was warranted. What I said to Maya may have been fucked up, but that doesn't mean there aren't people in the world who feel that way. I know firsthand…
I shake off memories that are better left buried and order a round of pints. Henry's the sensible one. Noah's the joker and Mr. Charismatic. Damon's the quietest of us all and, of course, the jock. Adam is the baby. And me? I'm stuck being the asshole.
I excuse myself to take a nonexistent call, then duck into a vacant seat near the men's room for some privacy. Hot, mindless sex is a cure-all for everything from boredom to insomnia, and I could really use a fix right about now. I scroll through my contacts to find tonight's lucky lady.
Nina the dancer is always down for a romp, but… Damn. I think she might be on tour in Japan until next month.
I need to delete Samantha. She showed up unannounced twice , once dressed as a UPS driver!
Janae is super cute, but she's not the brightest. I know hookups aren't about conversation, but one time we did it with Game Show Network on in the background and she missed every . single . question . It was so distracting, I almost didn't finish.
I keep scrolling and let out a breath. Denise is who I really want to kick it with, but she was busy the last time I texted and it felt suspiciously like a brush-off. Texting her again tonight would make me look Sahara-level thirsty.
A notification pops up on my phone, and a smile splits my face. Speak of the devil.
Denise (Maya's girl)
I hastily change her name in my phone since we decided to keep things between us quiet. Well, we didn't decide so much as she told me we couldn't tell anybody, but I'm not one to kiss and tell, anyway. A little secrecy might even make things hotter.
DJ
DJ : Are you free?
DJ: I'm in the area.
Hell yeah, I'm free! But— Shit! —I'm not in the area. Not yet anyway. And I have to shower.
I glance towards the bar to see my brothers finishing up their pints and check my watch.
DJ
Sadly, I'm not home.
DJ: No worries
My thumbs whiz across the keyboard. I've never typed faster in my life.
DJ
But I could be home in like, 30min? I just need to close out my tab.
Three dots blink in my text window and I kick myself for my eagerness. I just blew past Sahara thirst levels to third circle of Hell thirst. I didn't even wait a full minute to respond to her text, and now I'm rushing to close out my tab? Maybe I should just—
My phone vibrates again, and I snatch it off the table.
DJ
DJ: That works for me. See you soon.
I'm back to the bar in two steps.
"I gotta roll. Someone's coming by my apartment," I say while throwing a twenty-dollar bill on the bar. Noah raises an eyebrow.
" Somebody like a maintenance man? Or somebody like you gotta rush home and manscape before they get there?" Noah asks. Damon chuckles.
" Somebody like I'd much rather hang with her than you two sore losers," I say with a smirk. "I'll see you guys at dinner tomorrow."
I'm out the door with barely enough time to see Damon's small salute and Noah shooting me finger guns. No doubt they'll be grilling me in the group chat later. I could give them details without revealing Denise's identity, but, for some reason, that feels wrong.
Sure, she's just a booty call, and I've regaled my brothers with tales from my bachelor escapades many times before. But maybe it's starting to get old. The Bethany fiasco, regardless of how it ended, is proof I'm open to more than just sex. How many beautiful women do you kick out of your apartment before realizing you want one to stay?
I take the stairs down to the subway two at a time. First mind-blowing sex, then self-reflection. Maybe.