5. Grady
5
GRADY
“Morning,” Elliot smiles brightly when I knock on his office door. I can see the forced edges to the expression, but I pretend not to notice as I smile back at him.
“Morning.”
“We don’t have much time before we have to get to the airfield,” he meets me at the door, his tablet tucked beneath one arm as he shuts off the lights. I’m not expecting us to leave his office, so I don’t move out of the way in time. Elliot bumps against my chest, a soft “oof” leaving his lips before he takes a small step back. “We, uh, that is, I was going to suggest the gym?”
I’m not sure why that’s a question, but I can see he’s making an effort to be friendlier, and he deserves the same from me.
“Makes sense,” I nod, stepping back to allow him to close the office door. Elliot gives me another forced wannabe-smile before turning down the hall. I tip my head back, a silent sigh escaping my mouth before I follow him to the gym.
The moment we cross the threshold, Elliot is all business. This is his element, and it’s a place where he doesn’t have to be my friend or enemy. He just has to be my trainer. It’s clearly the role he feels the most comfortable in, and I do my best to play the dutiful patient.
Elliot is doing this for me . We are here at nine in the morning to fast-track my physical therapy because I asked him to help me. That’s something a friend would do for another friend, right?
If I could just get the sound of him saying he didn’t want to spend time with me out of my head, everything would be fine. There’s a marked difference between knowing someone doesn’t like you and hearing them declare it in front of all your friends.
I remember the day I met Elliot like it was yesterday. King told us Elliot was smart and funny. He even, possibly unknowingly, admitted Elliot fit the description of ninety percent of the guys I’ve dated. Not that I ever planned to date Ellie’s twin, but if he was even half as hot as Ellie’s brother Matty, who owns our favorite local bar, then I knew I would be in trouble with Elliot. And I was.
My stomach dropped the second I saw him, and my heart began to pound that familiar rhythm in my chest. Elliot is beautiful, with lean muscle and sharp features behind the oversized clothes he always drapes himself in. Even today, while walking me through several different exercises, he’s wearing a beige hoodie that looks big enough to fit me and black joggers that are just loose enough to hide the shape of his legs.
His outfit is the exact opposite of my own, and I can’t help but smirk down at the lime green compression pants sticking out the bottom of my black gym shorts. They cover my skin but do nothing to hide the muscles beneath the fabric. The same could be said of the white t-shirt I’m wearing, but that’s only because it’s a full size too small.
My eyes track up to the mirror across from us, and I watch Elliot for a moment. He’s looking at me with that same calculating gaze he had during my exam yesterday. This has to be the longest he’s ever watched me before. Most of the time, he’s doing everything in his power not to look in my direction at all, much less pay this kind of attention to me. My gaze snaps from the mirror to the man himself when Elliot places a gentle hand on my bicep, carefully encouraging me to lower my arm.
“Release the tension here,” he murmurs, pressing against my shoulder this time. I immediately follow his direction, making him smile softly at my back. He never smiles like that when I can see him, and I doubt he’d be smiling at all if he realized I can see him in the mirror, but you couldn’t pay me to take my eyes off him right now.
I like the way he smiles. It’s like he’s just heard a joke that only gets funnier the longer he thinks about it. It’s slow, sweet, and admittedly very sexy.
“I think that’s enough for today.” Elliot turns away from me as I finish the last cool down exercise, grabbing his tablet off the bench to type something on the screen. “You need to ice that shoulder while we’re on the plane. I’ll grab an ice pack for you on my way out.”
Elliot doesn’t look at me when he speaks, but I hear that familiar closed-off tone slipping into his words. He doesn’t wait for me to say anything else, turning on his heel and disappearing through the gym doors into the hallway beyond. I stand there for entirely too long, staring at the doors and willing him to come back.
He doesn’t, and his car is gone when I reach the parking lot.
Even with the minutes I spend waiting on Elliot like a little lost puppy, I make it to the airfield with plenty of time before the plane is supposed to take off. Most of the guys are already here, standing around the tarmac despite the unbearable heat radiating off every surface.
My Colorado-ass is not built for heat like this, so I quickly make my way toward the plane. Miller and Hoax are already sitting in their regular seats, but Steal’s spot is suspiciously empty behind them. My phone vibrates in my pocket before I can ask where our friend is.
STEAL
Don’t panic, big guy. I’m just running a few minutes late.
Any particular reason for your tardiness?
STEAL
I’ll tell you on the plane.
That makes me frown. Steal has been going through it with the divorce the last few months, and I’ve spent more time worrying about him than not. None of the guys loved his wife, but I don’t think any of us could have guessed she would end up being as horrible as she was.
“Mills, is Nell here yet?”
“Of course I am,” her voice comes from directly behind me, making me jump. “I’m always here.”
Nell gives me a fake smile, her eyes narrowed on the phone still clutched in my hand. I can tell she’s doing that mind-reading thing before she even asks the question. “Steal’s running late, isn’t he?”
I turn toward Miller, my wide eyes begging for him to save me and Steal from the wrath of his best friend.
“He’ll be here before the plane takes off, Nell. I promise,” Mills shoots her a bright smile that only seems to make Nell’s eyes narrow further.
I used to think Miller was a little in love with Nell despite her being exclusively interested in women. That was until last year, when we all found out it was Nell’s twin sister who Mills was trying desperately not to be in love with. He was unsuccessful, and we’re all better for it.
“How is he doing?” Nell’s question is quiet enough to only be heard by us, and I feel the tension bleed out of my shoulders. Of course, she’s worried about Steal, too. She’s not only the head of PR for the Cougars, making her responsible for damage control if he goes off the deep end, but she’s his friend.
“He’s surviving,” I admit, leaving the truth behind the words.
Nell reads through the lines easily and gives me a small nod. “I’ll hold the plane for ten minutes, but that’s all he gets. If he isn’t here by then, that’s on him.”
“Thank you, Nelly,” Miller all but shouts the nickname, and I flip him off for her. Nell would never stoop so low while working, but the way she pats my arm tells me she appreciates the gesture.
“Maybe you should wait to thank me until you hear the room assignments, Nathaniel.”
The blood drains from Miller’s face so fast I’m a little worried he might pass out. “Why? What have you done?”
“I don’t know,” she feigns innocence, looking down at her phone. “I guess we’ll all find out once we’re in the air.”
“I’m getting off the plane.”
Miller stands, but Hoax easily pulls him back into his seat with a shake of his head. “You’re not going anywhere, Mills. I need you, man.”
“You’ll be fine without me.”
“He won’t,” a soft voice comes from the opposite aisle, and we all turn to see Elliot walking up on Miller’s other side. “His averages plummet when you aren’t behind the plate. No offense, Hoax.”
“None taken,” Hoax smiles, but I see the knuckles of the hand holding Miller’s arm turn white. “Miller was just kidding about leaving anyway. Weren’t you?”
“Yeah, man,” Mills makes a face before carefully pulling his arm out of Hoax’s grasp.
I watch the two of them with a frown. I thought Hoax was settling in nicely with the entire team, but the truth is that he’s never with anyone but us. He doesn’t really talk to the other guys and rarely practices with anyone but Miller.
“Uh, Grady,” Elliot draws my attention to the spot where he’s holding an ice pack in the air between us.
Elliot’s trying very hard to look at me but isn’t exactly succeeding. His eyes keep darting up to my face, then down to the chairs between us, and back again in quick succession. I take the ice pack with a mumbled “Thanks” before dropping into my seat behind Mills. Elliot gives me another one of those horrible, forced expressions I refuse to call a smile, even in my head.
The moment he passes through the barrier between coach and first class, where all the training staff sit, Mills and Hoax turn to look at me over the backs of their seats.
“What was that?”
“Elliot and I are trying to be friends.”
“Oh, yeah,” Mills snorts, giving me a knowing look. “That felt super friendly.”
I glare at him, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s right. That was awkward at best. “It’s new. We’re still working out the kinks.”
It’s the wrong word to use, and I know it. The moment I say kink , Miller’s eyes light up. “Is that what’s been missing from all our friendships? A little kink?”
“God help us all if you ever find a taste for dick, Millsy.” Steal shakes his head the moment he appears through the partition, a mock-frightened look on his face as he throws his bag into the overhead bin.
“A truly terrifying thought,” Nell agrees, popping back up out of nowhere. She’s standing on Steal’s side of the aisle now, making him startle so hard he knees the armrest in front of him. “Good thing it wouldn’t matter because Nathaniel will never cheat on my sister. Will you?”
“I would rather die.”
The seriousness of Miller’s statement, combined with the complete lack of laughter in his tone, seems to appease Nell. She nods at him, and I swear a genuine smile tugs at her lips, but it’s gone before I can be sure.
“I’m glad you could join us, Stealman. I have the paperwork you requested.”
Silence descends around our group as four sets of eyes land on the file in Nell’s hands. Unsurprisingly, Miller is the one who breaks the tension building around us.
“Conrad, you didn’t.”
The fact that Miller remembered Steal’s first name speaks louder than any words ever could. The night Steal told us Lana left, he said she was pushing him to request a trade to another team. She thought he would make more money if he played for a bigger city, and Steal making more money was all Lana cared about.
At the time, he told her it was out of the question, and I had thought they were moving forward with a divorce, but now…now, I can’t remember the last time Steal mentioned Lana’s name, much less their divorce proceedings. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own shit for the last month that I haven’t made time to talk to him, and now I will wear the burden of my friend’s bad marriage and shitty trade squarely on my shoulders.
“No, Miller. I didn’t,” Steal’s soft reply is nearly lost under the sound of the rest of the team moving around us as everyone prepares for the plane to take off. “It’s my statement to the press. I need to announce this shit before Lana takes it upon herself to make things worse.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah,” Steal agrees, dropping into the seat next to me. He puts the folder in the pocket on the back of Hoax’s chair without looking at the paper inside, a silent request for us all to drop it.
We’ve been in the air for over half an hour by the time Steal bumps my arm, drawing my attention toward him. “You haven’t asked why I was late.”
“Why were you late?”
“I was looking at a house.”
My eyebrows jump to my hairline in surprise. Steal’s been staying in the house he and Lana shared, but I know he hates it there. He didn’t love that place when they bought it, and he certainly has no good feelings toward it now.
“Did you find something you like?”
“I did,” he nods, and I see him bite back a small smile. “It’s actually a place near you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” he releases his bottom lip, the smile finally reaching all the way to his eyes. “I put in an offer this morning.”
I lean into him, bumping our shoulders together in the closest thing I can manage to a congratulatory hug in a cramped airplane. I’m too fucking big to sit in coach, but the entire team is back here, so I wasn’t about to sit anywhere else. “I’m happy for you, man.”
“Thanks,” he bends his head, trying to hide the small smile playing on his face. Steal clears his throat, turning the smile into a knowing smirk. “So, what happened last night?”
“Last night?” I feign ignorance in the hopes he won’t ask any more questions. “Nothing.”
We’re all close friends, but Steal has always known me better than any of the others. He hums thoughtfully, crossing his arms to convey he’s content to wait me out on this one. It’s both incredibly frustrating and surprisingly comforting.
“Didn’t Elliot tell you guys what happened?”
“He didn’t come back to the apartment,” Miller’s head pops up over the back of his seat, and I sigh heavily at him. “And I have questions .”
“Miller,” Hoax’s sigh is nearly as long-suffering as my own as he turns around in the seat next to Mills. “Sometimes I want to strangle you, dude.”
“In a sexy way?”
“No,” Hoax, Steal, and I snap in unison. Miller holds his hands up, but he’s still smiling too brightly for my liking.
My arms are long enough to slap him in the back of the head without having to lean forward. The revelation does wonders for the annoyance swirling in my gut. Miller glares at me, and I meet his stare head-on.
It’s immediately apparent this is going to be a staring contest. Miller knows all my buttons, and I’ve lost the minute he starts twitching his eyebrows.
“How am I the only adult here?”
Hoax’s question is met with a round of boos from all of us. He’s obviously correct in his assessment despite being nearly a decade younger than Mills and me and a handful of years younger than Steal.
“Seriously, man, what’s Mills on about?”
Steal’s question is quiet enough not to be heard by Miller and Hoax, who are arguing about whether Miller qualifies as an adult. I turn my attention away from them when Mills uses the fact that he can ride all the rollercoasters at any amusement park as a defense of his “adultiness”.
“Elliot and I are friends.”
“Friends?”
“Yeah,” I nod, trying not to pull a face. “We’re trying to be, anyway.”
The words don’t sound any better this time, but I hope they will get easier the more I say them. There’s only one way to find out.