4. Chapter 4
Harlow
It’s official. Josh is the biggest dickhead known to man. Truly. Actually. Seriously. I fucking hate him.
Kinda impressive how fast my switch flipped from love and marriage to hate and murder, but, hey. I have some fucking self-respect. At least a little, anyway. And being left at the fucking altar? Wild turn of events.
Plan the wedding of his parents’ fucking dreams, invite a bunch of people I don’t know or care about, and then leave me standing there by myself like an idiot? Unbelievable.
I’m sure pain and sorrow will eventually catch up with me, but right now? Right now I’m running on pure spite and anger. And a heavy dose of humiliation because, truly… “Who fucking does that?”
“An asshole,” Gray says, handing me a heaping bowl of ice cream.
“What the fuck?” I feel like that’s my mantra. Just a constant stream of it. “I need to get out of this fucking tux.”
The only problem is that my parents still aren’t here with my shit. Maybe they won’t come at all. I did tell them I wanted to be left alone. Maybe I should text them. I take a big bite of ice cream. Not that it even matters. I only have jeans and a sweater in my bag anyway.
I’d need to go home—no, not home; to Josh’s house—to get anything else. Fucking asshole. Ugh. He really does have some nerve.
Something lands on the couch next to me, pulling me out of my stewing, and I glance over, finding a pair of sweats and a t-shirt.
“Thank you.” I stand up, placing my bowl on the coffee table, before grabbing the clothes off the couch. “Are you gonna change?”
Gray has already undone his tie and jacket, and he has his shirt untucked. Even like this, he looks… so put together. It’s infuriating. I bet my hair is a shitshow, despite the fact that I fixed it less than an hour before I walked down the aisle.
“Go change,” Grayson says, nodding toward the clothes in my hands.
With a sigh, I turn on my heel and head into his guest room.
I’m not sure Gray even uses this room except for me when I stay. I strip off my coat quickly and start working on my shirt. I unbutton it, trying to toss it quickly off me. It gets caught at my wrists, and I frown, then glance down. Fucking cuff links. Of course.
I fumble with them, growing more and more frustrated by the second. “Gray!”
A few seconds later, he’s at the closed door. “Yeah?”
“I need help with this shirt.”
The door swings open, and he walks inside. For a second, his steps falter, his eyes tracking my body. He clears his throat when I hold my wrist out to him, and he quickly and effortlessly takes the cuff links off. I strip the rest of my shirt off and let it fall to the floor.
Fuck this stupid tux and fuck Josh.
I unbutton my pants and start pushing them down my legs when Gray turns around and faces the door. I almost laugh at that. It’s not like I haven’t changed in front of him a hundred times over the years. Although, I guess it has been a while. Not since I started dating Josh.
At just the thought of him, a fresh wave of humiliation washes over me. Ugh. What is that guy’s fucking problem?
Pulling the sweats Gray handed me up, I tie the drawstring to keep them on my hips, then I grab the t-shirt and tug it over my head. It’s comically big on me, but it’s a lot more comfortable than my tux. “I’m dressed.”
Grayson turns back around, his gaze sweeping over me again before his lips quirk up in a little grin.
“Are you gonna change? Not gonna lie, seeing you in that stupid tux just pisses me off because it makes me think of Josh.”
The grin falls away, and Grayson nods. “Yep. I’ll go change right now. Meet you back in the living room?”
My ice cream is probably half melted by now. “Yeah, I’ll get something queued up.”
All I’ve gotta say is Gray better not leave me waiting. I might actually go on a murder spree if he tries. At this point, I can’t handle one more man pulling some stupid shit on me.
When I get back into the living room, I grab the remote, turning the TV on.
I’m scrolling through the options when he strolls back in.
“What are you thinking?” he asks, plopping down on the couch next to me.
“This, maybe.” I gesture toward the TV with the remote. I have Insidious pulled up. I’ve seen it a bunch of times, but it’s a bit of a comfort movie for me. I know how that makes me sound.
“Works for me.”
I hit play, then pick up my ice cream before settling into the couch. If anything, Grayson’s probably happy I chose this. He’s watched it with me so many times that I’m sure the jump scares won’t even get him anymore.
Eating my ice cream, I get lost in the movie. It really is exactly what I needed. At least until I start thinking about what comes next.
“I’m homeless now,” I blurt out halfway through.
Grayson’s head snaps in my direction. “What do you mean?”
I wave my spoon in the air. My ice cream ran out ages ago, but I’ve kept hold of my spoon. Figured using it as a fidget toy was preferable to chewing a hole in my bottom lip or tearing up my cuticles. Which reminds me, I’m extra mad about that. I was doing so well with my nails.
I glance down at my hands, staring at the jagged edges of the nails I picked off while standing there waiting for Josh.
“Harlow.”
Oh, right. I shift on the couch until I can face him. “I’m homeless now. That’s wild.”
His brows draw together. “You’re not homeless.”
“My fiancé left me at the altar, Gray. I lived with that fiancé. Even if he comes crawling back, I’m not moving back in with him. In fact, I need to go get my shit.”
How’s that gonna work? I really don’t want to see Josh at all. I guess I could ask Gray to go with me, or I could just have my dad do it. He would in a heartbeat. I have no doubt.
“As long as I have a home, so do you,” Gray says quietly, interrupting my internal spiral. “Wouldn’t be the first time we lived together.”
Huh. That’s a good point. “Really?”
He shoots me a be-serious look. “Yes. Geez, Harlow.”
Rubbing my thumb over the cool metal of the spoon, I nod. “Alright then. When can we go get my stuff?”
“Whenever you want.”
“Not tonight.”
Grayson laughs. “No. Not tonight.”
My stomach flips. “I was supposed to be going on my honeymoon tomorrow.”
“Fuck. I’m sorry.”
I shake my head. “Not your fault. I wonder if we can get any of our money back.”
He’s quiet for a second. “Fuck it, don’t cancel.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“Go instead.”
“Go…”
“On your honeymoon.”
There’s no fucking way. What would I even do in Vegas by myself? That sounds awful and boring. “Ew. No thanks. That sounds depressing.”
It wouldn’t be if Gray went too, though. It’s been a long time since we’ve done anything like that together, and it is all paid for. I’d just need to transfer the ticket from Josh to him. “Unless you wanted to go with me.”
Grayson’s eyes widen, and his mouth falls open. “On your honeymoon?”
I shrug. “I mean… it’s not really a honeymoon if I’m literally not even getting married. More like a vacation.” A sad, depressing single-man vacation. Super fun and exciting. Ugh. “A friendcation.”
Grayson seems to think about that for a second, his eyes searching mine. “You’re sure? You don’t want to just get your money back?”
“Why? Sure, I could, but it’s already spent. It’s not like I really need it back. It could be fun to get away. And Josh can get over it. Letting me take our honeymoon is the least he can do.”
Plus, I haven’t spent nearly as much time with Gray as I’d like to. We used to be inseparable, and yeah, we grew up and got lives and jobs and shit, but like… shouldn’t we still be allowed to hang out and just… be those kids we used to be? Only as adults, of course.
“You know what? Yeah. That sounds good.”
A bolt of excitement shoots through me. “Really?”
A smile spreads across his face, and I can’t help but smile too. “Yeah, I think it would be fun. What time are the flights?”
“Tomorrow afternoon. Leaves at five.”
Grayson nods, almost to himself. “Alright, yeah. We’d probably just need to run by Josh’s so you can pack, right?”
I groan. Fucking asshole. “I already am packed. My suitcase is ready to go in our bedroom.” I shake my head. “His bedroom.”
Sitting back on the couch and turning to the TV, Gray smiles. “Okay. I’ll pack in the morning, and then I’ll take you to pick up your stuff.”
“I don’t want to see him,” I say softly, picking at my fingers before catching myself and tucking my hands under my thighs.
Gray reaches across the couch and squeezes my knee. “I’ll go with you, and I can get your stuff myself if I need to.”
“Okay. But what about work? Didn’t think about that.”
There’s a beat of silence, and then he’s shifting to look at me. “I… uh—I already have the week off.”
I scrunch my nose up. “Why?”
Avoiding my gaze, Gray shrugs. “No reason. Just felt like it.”
“Well, it really worked out perfectly, I guess.”
Humming, he nods. “Sure did. You ready to finish the movie?”
We turn our attention back to the TV without another word, but the whole time, my stomach is doing little flips. It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten to just exist with Gray. No fiancé, no wedding plans, no ‘I need to get home to Josh.’ Just us hanging out like we always used to.
My heart thumps. Being left at the altar is ass. I can’t believe he embarrassed me like that, but… it will be nice to spend that time with Grayson. So maybe in the end, that’s my silver lining.
I’ve slept in Gray’s guest room many times. It’s comfort to me. My home away from home. But tonight… tonight, it just fucking sucks.
Not the room. No, that’s not the problem. The problem is my mind. No matter how hard I try, I can’t stop thinking about today.
I never wanted a big wedding. I always pictured something quiet and intimate. No fanfare. No big crowds. No fancy tablecloths or centerpieces or lavish, expensive arches.
I would have been happy with a small backyard wedding, with only our closest friends and family in attendance.
For one, I can’t believe I let Josh sideline all my wants.
Well, it was more his family than anything else.
But it doesn’t matter. What was I thinking?
All that, and for what? To be left at the altar?
I mean, fine, if he didn’t want to marry me, I guess it’s better to know before we actually got married.
It just sucks. And what does it say about me that the biting humiliation of standing there with all those people looking at me is somehow worse than the fact that I’m a single man now?
You’d think I’d be more upset about that.
Rolling onto my side, I pull the blankets up around my face. They smell like Grayson. Sort of. They smell like Gray’s house, which is a bit of a poor substitute for actually smelling him.
Maybe it’s not the room that is my home away from home but Gray himself. I don’t even remember a time without him. He’s been around as long as my memories exist, and he’s always been the person I ran to when I was having a bad day or a hard time.
I flop onto my other side, trying to get comfortable. It’s pretty much useless. Even if I could get my body into a comfortable position, I don’t know how to get my mind to shut the fuck up.
It’s like a cruel game. Every time I close my eyes, I see Andy’s face as he walked toward me. I see the people in the crowd, whispering to each other and staring at me like there was something wrong with me. Or like I had done something wrong.
Fuck this.
With a sigh, I toss the blankets off myself and climb out of bed.
The hallway is dark, but it doesn’t matter. I know Gray’s house like the back of my hand. I could walk it blindfolded, and given how dark it is, I may as well be.
I push open his bedroom door and creep inside, closing it quietly behind me.
It doesn’t matter. As soon as it clicks shut, Gray shifts in bed. “Harlow?”
“Sorry,” I whisper, tiptoeing closer to the left side of his bed. It’s been a long time since I’ve done this, but it feels just like it used to.
Lifting the blankets, I crawl in. It’s warm from his body heat, and his scent is stronger here, instantly soothing my loud and fucked-up brain.
I shuffle closer and closer until I’m pressed against him.
Gray turns onto his side, then wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me closer.
I know it’s probably not healthy, but I really don’t give a fuck about that. I’ve always sought comfort from Grayson, and he’s always given it to me.
With a sigh, I nuzzle into his chest, breathing in the scent of him.
“You okay?” he whispers.
“Don’t know, really. Is it weird that I’m more embarrassed than hurt?”
Gray’s chest rises and falls, his shirt rubbing against my nose with his deep inhaled breath. “No, I don’t think so. We all process things in different ways.”
Stupid fucking tears burn my eyes. “Kinda just feels like something’s wrong with me.”
“Because you’re not hurt?” Gray asks, his voice thick with sleep and confusion.
“No.” Jesus, maybe I should have just waited until morning. “Because I got left at the fucking altar. Like, what’s so wrong with me that Josh didn’t want to marry me?”
Grayson’s hand slips into my hair, and I can’t help but sigh as I relax deeper into him. For what feels like forever, he just holds his hand there, then he starts rubbing my scalp and sliding his fingers through the strands.
A shiver races down my spine, and if my eyes were open, they’d probably be rolling back. God, I’m a whore for having my hair played with. But also… “Why aren’t you answering me? Is it because there’s something wrong with me and you don’t wanna tell me?”
Gray sighs. “No. There’s nothing wrong with you at all. I can’t even begin to fathom why he wouldn’t want to marry you.”
His words are quiet, so quiet I almost don’t hear them at all. If it wasn’t for the way my stomach flips and my heart races, I’d almost be sure they didn’t exist at all.
“Can I stay in here tonight?” I whisper instead of answering him.
The only response I get is a hum.
I don’t need more than that. Not really. Not with Grayson. I let my body relax into the bed and focus on the warmth of him against me and on the way his fingers are playing with my hair. It’s no time at all before I’m out like a light.