26. Elliot
26
ELLIOT
“How’s the new bakery?”
“Fine,” Ellie sighs, dropping her head against the back of the couch. “Hit a bit of a snag with the interior decorator, but I think she’s finally coming around.”
We’re halfway through some terrible documentary that Scott insisted we watch, but none of us are paying attention to it. Not even Scott, who’s sitting on the floor next to the coffee table while Charlotte paints his nails. Hoax is lying with his head in Scott’s lap, his phone suspended in the air as he types out another text.
“The interior decorator? Faith, right?”
Ellie nods at my question, taking another long sip of her margarita. “Yep. I think she’s sleeping with Colin.”
“What?” I sit bolt upright, making the blood drain from my head so fast I nearly pass out. That would be an appropriate reaction to what Ellie said, so I don’t try to fight it too hard. “Why would anyone ever sleep with Colin?”
“He’s cute.”
We all turn toward Charlotte, who shrugs her shoulders unapologetically. “I know he’s evil or whatever, but he’s also kind of hot. You all are,” she gestures between Ellie and me. “You can’t honestly tell me you guys didn’t know Colin fucked.”
“No,” I whisper, horrified by the images plaguing my mind. “I didn’t think women would stoop that low.”
Ellie shudders hard at my side. “I’m horrified on behalf of my entire gender.”
“This is your brother, right?” Hoax asks with a soft laugh. “The news anchor?”
“Satan’s ballsack,” I correct, making Ellie giggle. Charlotte covers a laugh with the back of her hand, and I wink at her so she knows we’re all joking. Colin does suck as a person and a brother, but he isn’t the Devil. He’s more like the Devil’s assistant who sometimes fills in when the Devil’s on vacation.
“He is cute,” Scott hums, blowing on the fresh coat of paint Charlotte just finished applying to his right hand. “Not my type,” he quickly adds at the glare Hoax gives him. “But I can see why Charlie’s into him.”
“I am not into him,” Charlotte groans, slapping Scott with the paper towel roll she swipes from the center of the coffee table. “All I said is that he’s cute, which he is.”
“You also said ‘hot’,” I remind her, narrowly avoiding her backswing when she whips the paper towels at my head. “But let’s hear the man out. Present your evidence, Scooter.”
“Colin’s brunette,” Scott holds up a finger with each new point he makes. “He tells corny jokes on TV; not sure if that’s part of his personality or not, but if it is, she’s into that. He’s clearly fine being the center of attention. He’s attractive, and he seems to know it,” Scott shrugs, giving Charlotte a smug look. “He’s basically Evil Miller.”
Ellie’s straw drops from her mouth, making a hollow thunking sound when it hits the bottom of her cup. “Holy shit.”
“Ew, no!” I shake my head, unable to accept that answer. “Mills is funny and hot and nothing like Colin.”
“Okay, can we please stop comparing my boyfriend to a guy you regularly refer to as the Devil?” Charlotte asks through uncontrollable giggles.
Ellie hops up to get more margaritas for everyone, and Hoax rolls off Scott’s lap to help her carry everything to the kitchen. “You want another soda, Elliot?”
“I’m good,” I slap his hand as he passes behind me, and Hoax flicks my glass in retribution. The moment they’re out of sight, I turn back to Charlotte. “I can’t believe you’re obsessed with Colin.”
“No,” Charlotte whines, pointing a sharp nail in my direction. “Don’t start that. Mills will get crazy jealous.”
“We know,” Scott snorts, wiggling his eyebrows at her. “Making Mills jealous is hella fun.”
“For you ,” she grumbles, leaning back over his hand to add another coat of polish.
I catch Scott’s eye over her shoulder, knowing he’s having the same thought I am. “You’re saying there’s nothing fun in it for you?”
“There’s not a single benefit to Mills getting jealous?”
“Like, I don’t know,” Scott continues my thought, a wicked smirk on his face. “An Earth-shattering dick down?”
Charlotte’s cheeks heat, but Ellie and Hoax return with the margaritas before she can answer.
“Leave her alone, you two,” Hoax chides, running a hand through Scott’s short hair. “Let’s get back to the point.”
“What was the point?” I ask, having genuinely forgotten how we got on this topic.
“Faith is trying to change every single piece of the interior for the bakery,” Ellie reminds us all with a deep sigh. “I want the new shop to look like the old one, so people can go into either and get the same feel, ya know? But she wants it to be different, and I don’t agree with the things she wants to change.”
Hoax hums sympathetically as he curls up against Scott’s side. “But you think she’s finally coming around?”
“She’s at least not arguing with me on every fucking thing anymore. I guess we’ll see how long it lasts.”
“Are you getting close to finishing everything else?”
“We are,” she smiles, dropping onto the couch beside me. Ellie gives me a look I recognize from a lifetime of being on the receiving end of her rants. “You’ll have to come see it whenever you’re done dodging my texts.”
“I haven’t been dodging anything,” I argue, but it sounds weak even to my own ears because she’s right. I’ve been avoiding her so I don’t have to admit I’m sleeping with Grady. She’ll want to know how it happened, and then she’ll insist that I tell him how I feel, and I’m not ready for that. I’m not prepared for this to end, and that’s what will happen if I tell Grady that I love him. “I’ve just been busy.”
“Busy getting fucked,” Scott interjects, drawing out the last word as if it needs to be any more suggestive than it already is.
There’s a moment of total stillness before Ellie explodes into a fireball of motion and sound. “Elliot James!” She squeals, shoving at my arms and chest as she bounces on the couch at my side. “Who are you sleeping with? Do we know him? Is he cute? Does he treat you well? Are you being safe? Is it good? Are you dating? Can I meet him?”
“Ellie!” I yell over her questions, slapping her hands away from my face when she accidentally knocks my glasses askew. “Will you just chill out?”
“Absolutely the fuck not,” she chirps, taking a long sip of her margarita. “What’s his name? What does he do? Is he tall? You’ve always liked tall guys. I bet he’s tall.”
Scott is watching this happen with a shit-eating grin, and I wish I had a margarita in my hand just so I could toss it in his face. “You did this to me.”
“And I’d do it again,” he snarks back, blowing on his nails when Charlotte taps the back of his hand. Hoax shakes his head at his boyfriend, giving me a sympathetic look over Scott’s shoulder.
Ellie suddenly stops slapping me, her brows pinching together as something occurs to her. “Wait, why does Scott know and I don’t?”
“Because Scott can usually keep a secret.” I glare at him as I say it, but Scott simply smiles brightly back at me.
“Why does it need to be a secret?”
“Because it’s Grady,” Charlotte helpfully supplies.
Ellie and I turn toward her in unison, matching looks of surprise on our faces. “How the fuck do you know that?”
“Mills told me.”
“Wait, what?” Ellie demands, grabbing my arm so hard I nearly yelp. “It’s Grady? You’re sleeping with Grady , and you didn’t tell me?”
“I wasn’t keeping it from you intentionally, I just,” I sigh, rubbing a hand against my eyes. “You’re not going to like it.”
“Did he do something?”
“No.”
“Is he mean to you?”
“No,” I insist, trying not to laugh at the idea of Grady being mean to me in a way I wouldn’t want.
“Then I don’t understand. What won’t I like?”
I turn to our friends sitting on the floor, glaring at each of them. “Would any of you like to jump in, since you all seem to know so fucking much?”
“I didn’t say anything,” Hoax balks, pointing at the two people beside him. “Yell at them.”
Scott laughs, slapping his boyfriend’s hand out of the air. “I think we’ve done enough. You’ve got it, Elliot.”
I turn back toward Ellie, who is watching me as if I’ve just kicked a puppy. “Dammit,” I sigh, gesturing at her face. “This is why I didn’t tell you. You’re too invested, and it isn’t like that with us.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that we’re...casual.”
“Casual how?” Charlotte asks, making me turn narrowed eyes in her direction. She holds up both hands as if in surrender, and I turn back to Ellie, who immediately asks the same question.
“Casual how?”
“Like casual ,” I repeat, knowing it won’t help the situation at all. I turn to make sure no one is standing near the elevator before I say, “We’re just fucking around.”
Nobody says anything to that, and I can tell they’re all gearing up to say some shit I don’t want to hear. Sure enough, Scott starts them off with, “And you’re okay with that?”
“Yes. Yeah. Yes, I am.”
“Maybe try that again,” Hoax scoffs, crossing his arms and raising a knowing brow. “You’re not convincing anyone when you say it like that.”
“I’m fine,” I argue, shuffling deeper into the couch cushions. “It’s fine that Grady just wants to have sex. Oh, how terrible for me. I’m having regular orgasms with the hottest man on the planet. Fucking kill me now. ”
Charlotte’s giggles are drowned out by Scott demanding, “Let’s talk about these orgasms.”
“Let’s not,” I suggest, turning my attention back to Ellie. “Are you okay?”
“I’m as okay as you are,” she snarks, taking two small sips of her margarita. “So, not fucking okay at all, actually.”
“Ellie—”
She cuts me off with a hand slapped haphazardly over my mouth. “Elliot James, I’m about to use your own words against you. Are you ready?”
I mumble a half-hearted “No” against her palm, but she ignores it.
“I’m hearing a lot of logic here, and you know I love it, but the real question is: how do you feel about the situation?”
The words take me back to the Bennett’s Bakes kitchen almost two years ago when Ellie insisted that she and King could only be friends. I’d asked her that exact question, and I remember the look on her face when she answered. It’s the same face I’m making right now.
Pulling her hand away from my mouth, I sigh, “I fucking hate it.”
“That’s what I thought,” she gives me a self-satisfied smile. “ Spill .”
“It’s Matthew fucking Grady,” I groan, scrubbing both hands over my face. “Of course, I’m hopelessly in love with him. He’s... he’s so much more than I was expecting. He’s not just stupid fucking hot; he’s also deeply funny and genuinely kind. He holds every door open for me, even elevator doors, which is actually very cute. He wanted to know what books I read so we could talk about them together. And he doesn’t ever make me feel like I’m in the background, or like he’s just waiting for something better to come along. Grady just sees me, and it’s like I’m enough.”
I sigh, thumping my head against the back of the couch. “He’s so fucking sweet, too. Even when he’s not being sweet, he’s still putting me first, ya know? And the sex is... fuck .”
“I’m not surprised,” Ellie hums, dropping her head against my shoulder. “I always knew you guys would fit together.”
“But we’re not?—”
“You are,” she cuts me off with a pinch to my side. “You just don’t see it yet.”
“I would like to revisit the part where he isn’t sweet,” Scott pipes up, raising his hand like we’re in a classroom. “Is this consensual not-niceness? Because that’s hot, and I want all the details.”
“It is, and you’re not getting anything from me.”
“Why not?” He fakes a whine, and I kick him in the thigh.
“Maybe because you outed my sex life to everyone?” The words are barely out of my mouth before Ellie slaps me in the arm at the same time Charlotte punches my thigh. “What the fuck? Why am I getting hit so much?”
“Maybe because you should have told us yourself, you little shit.”
Charlotte points at Ellie in agreement, her perfect dark eyebrows disappearing behind her freshly cut bangs. “Hard agree.”
“I promise, the next time I start fucking someone as hot as Grady, you’re the first people I’ll tell.”
“The next time?”
A voice from behind me makes us all jump. We spin in unison to face Grady, where he’s standing at the end of the couch, and there’s a long moment where no one says anything. Then, my mouth catches up with my brain. “Ellie, you need to fix the elevator buzzer.”
“It isn’t broken.”
“Then make it louder,” I hiss, squeezing her arm until she squeals and slaps me away. My eyes are locked on Grady, who is watching me with pure amusement. “What are you doing here?” I try for a casual tone, but it’s accusatory at best.
“Mills sent a 911 text. I thought he’d be here already.” The words are barely out of Grady’s mouth before the elevator doors open behind him, revealing Miller, King, and a very bloody Steal.
“Shit,” I’m off the couch in an instant, moving toward the bathroom at the back of the apartment. There’s a first aid kit under the sink that has everything you need for stitches. I bought it for Ellie after the third time King came home bleeding all over the place. The man is a magnet for fights, and going to the hospital only invites more press than necessary.
They’ve moved Steal into one of the chairs at the kitchen table by the time I’ve finished washing my hands, and I get my first look at the cut splitting across his cheek. “What the fuck happened, dude?”
“How likely are you to believe this wasn’t my fault?”
“Uh, zero percent.”
“Damn,” he chuckles, but it turns into a hiss when I start to clean the blood from his face. “Okay, it might have been a little my fault.”
“What happened?” Grady repeats my question, though it sounds far more understanding when he asks it. Like he’s already on Steal’s side, no matter what the man is about to say.
Steal sighs, waving a hand at Miller and King. “They made me drink.”
“ Made is a strong word,” King huffs, crossing his arms. “We showed up at MBs, and you were already there, staring at a bottle of whiskey like it was the last one on Earth.”
“Staring, but not drinking,” Steal defends, flinching away from me when I get too close to the edge of the cut.
Sighing, I grab his head to hold him still. “Are you telling me a bottle of whiskey did this to you?”
“No, that fucking asshole did it.”
“Which asshole, specifically?” None of the guys answer, and I turn to look at Miller and King, who are both looking anywhere but at me.
Miller eventually gives in, mumbling under his breath. “Lana’s new boyfriend.”
“Oh, Conrad,” I sigh, turning back to him. Steal looks at the ceiling with narrowed eyes, avoiding the conversation in the only way he can. “You hit him?”
“No,” Steal defends, his eyes cutting briefly to my face before focusing on the ceiling again. “He hit me. Obviously.”
His tone makes me smile as I thread the suture needle. “Clearly. I’m just surprised you didn’t get a shot in yourself.”
“Didn’t need to,” Steal shrugs, flinching away from me when I grab his head. I show him I’m just applying the local anesthetic, and he relaxes again.
Grady is suddenly standing on the other side of Steal, looking down at his friend’s face. “If I have to ask you what happened one more time, I’m going to hit you myself.”
Steal’s eyes widen, darting between me and Grady as if I might save him from such a fate. When it becomes evident that I won’t interfere, he sighs heavily. “I was minding my own fucking business with these two asshats,” he waves at Mills and King, but neither of them denies the asshat claim. “When this fucking guy comes out of nowhere. He started saying some shit, and it got heated.”
“What kind of shit?”
The guys are all looking anywhere but at me again, but this time, they’re not looking at Steal either. He groans, closing his eyes. “He was making some bold fucking claims about my ability to please my ex-wife. I simply pointed out that his saying that to me in public spoke more to his insecurities than my abilities, and he hit me. Twice.”
I’ve never heard a room go as quiet as this one does when Steal finished speaking. I don’t think any of us know whether we should defend his sexual history or ask if it’s true. Thankfully, I have a job to do, so I’m not responsible for that decision.
Steal reels back when I press the needle against his cheek, but Grady catches his head and holds him still for me.
“You know Lana was probably just trying to make him feel better about her ex being a famous baseball player, right?” Grady murmurs, and it wouldn’t be loud enough for everyone to hear if anyone else was making any noise at all. “I’m sure she told him you didn’t satisfy her because he was nervous about sleeping with her.”
“Yeah,” Steal deadpans, staring up at the ceiling again.
Grady frowns at his friend, and it’s the first time I’ve ever seen him at a loss for words when someone is hurting.
“Can someone get me some warm water?” I ask the room at large. It has the desired effect as everyone breaks into motion at once. Grady gives me a grateful look, and I wink up at him before returning to the stitches I’m pulling through Steal’s cheek.
Grady leans down to talk to Steal now that the entire room isn’t listening to them, and he’s so quiet I only catch a few random words here and there. It mostly sounds like he’s insisting that Steal didn’t do anything wrong with Lana, and that it wasn’t his fault their marriage fell apart, no matter what Lana is saying to her new boyfriend.
“If you ever want to talk about the other stuff,” Grady murmurs as I pull the last stitch through Steal’s cheek. “I’m always around. No judgment.”
I pat Steal’s shoulder, and he shifts in his seat. “Thanks, man.”
I’m not sure if he’s talking to me or Grady, so I don’t say anything in response. We all disburse after that, everyone ready to go home after the excitement of the evening. I parked in the garage this time, much to everyone’s relief, and I’m just getting into the driver’s seat when my phone vibrates with an incoming text.
GRADY
My place.
Awful demanding of you.
GRADY
Sorry.
My place?
Much better, thank you.
GRADY
Is that a yes?
I think about it while waiting for my ancient Honda to warm up. My fingers drum against the steering wheel, and I weigh my options. I don’t want to say no—I want to spend every night in Grady’s bed. I’m no longer content with these being the good old days, I want this to be my life. I just need to figure out how to make that happen.
Yes, it is.