12. Elliot
12
ELLIOT
Cracking one eye open, I take stock of my surroundings. The bed is noticeably void of a certain massive human, and I frown at the rumpled sheets. Was it all a dream? Some fucked up hallucination born of my complete mortification?
The first attempt to move my lower body tells me that it was not a dream. Holy shit, I slept with Matthew fucking Grady. What is my life?
I see a handful of unread texts when I grab my phone off the nightstand. Most of them are from the group chat with my brothers, but there is one from Grady at the bottom of the list. Hesitantly, I click on it, unsure what I’ll find.
GRADY
Your roommate came home, so I snuck out while he was distracted. I’ll see you later.
There’s something odd about the message, but I can’t put my finger on what it is. It’s probably just me reading more into it than I should, so I try to distract myself from potentially spiraling by reading through the other messages.
MATTY
I need help unloading a truck at 2 today.
COLIN
Can’t.
MATTY
You’re such a fuckbag.
WILL
The practice is open until 4, but I can come by after if you still need help.
MATTY
I need it unloaded by 3:30, but thanks bro.
Elliot? You alive?
The last message was sent twenty minutes ago, and I quickly tap out a reply.
Yeah, I’ll be there.
I barely have enough time to shower and change before I head over to Matty’s bar, but the fact that it leaves no time for either of my roommates to ask about the guy one of them let into our apartment earlier is a bonus. I pull up outside MB’s with two minutes to spare, only to find Matty waiting for me on the sidewalk.
“Cutting it pretty close, don’t you think?”
“I was sleeping, you ass.”
Matty narrows his eyes in a look I’m all too familiar with, and I reach up to adjust the collar of my Cougars polo. “What?”
“Nothing.” He continues to watch me as I move past him, and I roll my eyes when he makes a soft humming sound in the back of his throat.
“Just say it.”
“You’re walking funny.”
That isn’t what I was expecting, and I quickly adjust my stance in the hopes that will do anything to dissuade him from asking more questions. “I am not.”
“Alright, then,” Matty points at the front door with a smug smile. “Walk inside.”
I look between him and the door, trying to figure out how I’m going to get out of this conversation. “After you.”
“Nope,” he pulls the door open, crossing both arms as he props it open with his foot. “Either you walk ahead of me, or you tell me who you’re embarrassed you slept with.”
“I am not embarrassed!”
“But you did sleep with someone.”
He looks entirely too proud of himself for that one, and I mumble curses under my breath as I move past him. “Don’t we have a truck to unload?”
“It’s running late.” Matty is at my side the moment I’m through the door. We’re nearly identical in height and coloring, but Matty is broader through the shoulders than I could ever hope to be. Although, I doubt both Grady and I could have fit on my bed if I were any larger than I am now. The thought sends a deep flush across my skin that the overhead lights do nothing to hide.
Matty snorts, placing a hand on my shoulder to steer me toward the bar at the back of the room. “You owe me a story while we wait.”
“I do not.” I hate how whiny my voice is, but I’m still trying to wrap my head around what happened without adding outside input to the situation. “There’s nothing to tell.”
“Is it someone I know?”
“Matty!”
“What?” He gives me a cocky grin, and I have a deep desire to slap it off his face. “You’re a terrible liar, Elliot.”
“I am not.”
“You are,” he argues, forcing me into one of the bar stools. “I’m not sure who’s worse, you or Ellie.”
“You take that back.” I give him my most menacing glare before adding, “And I’m not lying.”
“Of course, you aren’t.” He doesn’t sound convinced at all. “Tell me why you were running late.”
“I was sleeping.” I nearly add “ha!” to the end of the sentence but realize that would only cheapen the smug feeling building in my chest.
Matty’s eyes narrow on me, and I can’t help but think he looks even more like our oldest brother Will when he’s being serious. I don’t like it. “That’s true,” he mumbles, still eyeing me suspiciously. “But why were you sleeping in the middle of the day?”
“Oh, uh,” shit, shit, shit. “I was tired.”
“Why?”
“What, I’m not allowed to be tired now?”
My brother completely ignores me, moving around the back of the bar with a curious look in his eyes. “Who do I know that you know?”
“Matty, don’t do this.”
“It isn’t Jeff or Darryl.”
“Absolutely not,” I shudder at the thought of sleeping with either of my roommates. “And it isn’t anyone, so drop it.
“See, you’re lying again,” he sighs, picking up two glasses and filling them with water. “Is it one of the guys?”
I nearly say, “Of course, it’s a guy,” before the meaning of “the guys” sinks in. “It…no. I wo-wouldn’t, that’s not. Who would even? No.”
“Yeah, you’re a great liar.” Matty doesn’t try to hide his laughter, and I flip him off across the bar. “It isn’t King. He’s too…”
“Straight and obsessed with our sister,” I agree, then internally berate myself for playing his game.
Matty hums in agreement as he slides one of the waters toward me. “I wouldn’t put it past Mills, but I hear he’s finally off the market.”
“He is disgustingly in love with Charlotte, and I would never come between them.”
“Oh, Elliot,” Matty’s smile falls, and my heart sinks with it. “You didn’t.”
A cold sweat breaks across my forehead as I ask, “Didn’t what?”
“I thought Scott and Hoax were exclusive?”
“Scott and Hoax? What do…what the fuck?” I glare at my brother. “You really think I would sleep with my best friend or his boyfriend?”
“To be fair, I thought you slept with your best friend and his boyfriend.”
“Jesus Christ, Matty.”
“What? That only leaves Steal and Grady, and while I’m sure divorce does things to a man, I kind of doubt it drove Steal onto your dick, so…”
We stare at each other as the reality of who I slept with sinks in for both of us. Matty’s mouth opens, but no sound comes out. He closes it, tilts his head, opens his mouth again…and still says nothing.
“Is it really that unbelievable?”
“Yes.”
“Real nice, Matty.”
“What! I know crazier things have happened, but Elliot, dude. Come on. You’ve barely even spoken to the man.”
“That isn’t true.”
“Isn’t it?”
“Would you be having this reaction if I had a one night stand with a stranger?”
“Was it a one night stand?”
“Maybe? But maybe not? We didn’t really talk about it, so I don’t know for sure.”
“You didn’t talk about it?” Matty’s eyebrows creep toward his hairline with each word. “What exactly happened?”
What did happen? I failed to proposition him on the plane. I kissed him, but he didn’t kiss me back. Then he…showed up at my apartment? Probably to talk, but then, you know…I wasn’t really in a talking mood.
“Elliot.”
Matty says my name like it isn’t the first time he’s tried getting my attention in the last few seconds. “Yeah?”
“What’s going on?”
“I think I fucked up.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Matty gives me a serious look. “Start from the beginning.”
By the time I’m done recapping the last few days, I’m no longer surprised Grady left while I was sleeping or that his text sounded so odd. “I basically forced him to have sex with me.”
“I don’t think that’s true.” Matty’s phone chirps, and he pulls a face. “The truck is here, but we’re not done having this conversation.” He points an aggressive finger in my direction before walking toward the door to the back alley.
We make quick work of unloading the shipment but it’s still three forty-five by the time we finish, even with the driver helping hand us the crates.
“I’ve got to get to the stadium.”
“Wait,” Matty grabs my arm with one hand, passing the paperwork back to the driver with the other. “We’re not done talking.”
“I don’t have time?—”
“You’re going to make time,” he shoves me toward the door, ushering me inside with demanding pokes to the back and shoulders.
“Dude!”
“This won’t take long,” he stops at the bar, turning me until we’re standing face-to-face.
Matty and I are easily the closest of all our brothers. We’re not just siblings; we’re friends. And that friendship is how I know that whatever he’s about to say will either solve all my problems or make my life unimaginably worse.
“I think you fucked up with Grady.”
Oh, so the worse option. Groaning, I fall onto the barstool behind me, dropping my head into my hands.
“Stop being dramatic,” Matty huffs, reaching across the bar to grab something. “I don’t think you fucked up in the way you think you fucked up.”
“How about,” I snap, looking up at him again. He’s holding a handful of green olives and extends one out to me in offering. I nearly slap it out of his hand. “You just tell me how you think I fucked up.”
“I think Grady likes you.”
“Oh, please?—”
“No, hear me out,” Matty waves his hand dramatically between us, accidentally flinging olive juice across my face. My glare does not stop him from continuing. “You said he texted you first?—”
“Because he was trying to be my friend.”
“And he wanted to read the books you read specifically so you guys would have something to talk about.”
“As friends.”
“Then you kiss him?—”
“And he didn’t kiss me back.”
“And he shows up at your apartment, WHICH,” Matty yells over my next protest. “He had never been to before and had no reason to even know the location of, where he catches you moaning his name while on a solo mission?—”
“I hate you.”
“And instead of being like ‘what the fuck is wrong with you’—”
“Thanks, Matty.”
“He asks to join. That’s love. Or, at the very least,” he holds up his hand when I start to argue. “Interest. Plain and simple. I think he likes you, and I think you fucked up by falling asleep post-orgasm. Which, seriously, Elliot, how fucking cliché.”
“It was two orgasms,” is the only defense I have, but it’s a weak one. Is he right? Does Grady like me? That doesn’t sound right. He did say all those things , but I kind of assumed they were in the heat of the moment. Matty’s phone lights up with a text from Will, and I catch sight of the time. “Shit, I have to go.”
“You know I’m right,” Matty yells after me, but I ignore him.
Thoughts of “ What if ” plague me all the way to Carriage Park. The private lot is full of cars, and I curse when I have to park at the far end. For the second time today, I find myself running through the parking lot. The halls are empty, but that’s to be expected at this time. Everyone will have gathered in the Clubhouse to do the pre-game check-in.
Sure enough, the moment I round the corner, I hear voices coming from the doors at the far end of the hall. Sneaking in isn’t an option, but missing pre-game isn’t either. All eyes turn in my direction as I slide through the half-open door, but I keep my head down as I creep toward Perry and the other athletic trainers along the wall. Colton gives me a knowing smirk when I stop at his side making me wonder if I have “JUST GOT FUCKED” written across my forehead or if all the men I know are weirdly observant about shit like that.
I don’t look up a single time throughout the meeting. Grady is here somewhere, and the absolute last thing I need is to make awkward eye contact with him in a room full of people. What if Matty was right? What if Matty was wrong? What if I say something and I’m wrong? What if Grady says something? What if he doesn’t?
My heart pounds, and my palms begin to tingle as the familiar feeling of my chest collapsing in on itself washes over me. I try to force air into my lungs, but my ribcage is locked in place as I spiral into a full panic attack. I’m going to die. Right here, in the corner of the Cougar’s Clubhouse, I’m going to stop breathing. I will forever be remembered as that guy who died in Carriage Park because he couldn’t remember how to breathe.
“Elliot?”
Just fucking breathe, you asshole.
“Elliot?”
It isn’t hard. You do it every day. In and out. Why can’t you do this basic fucking thing?
“Elliot, look at me.”
Someone is standing in front of me, but I can’t raise my head enough to see who it is. Not that I need to—I’d know Matthew Grady anywhere.
“Elliot,” his hand slides beneath my chin, and I manage to close my eyes before my face tips skyward. This is absolutely how I die. Grady is going to see me, then he’s going to walk away, and I’m going to die here because I cannot fucking breathe .
I’m aware someone is directing me toward the hallway, but I’m not sure why, and I don’t really care. They’re probably just trying to get me out of the Clubhouse so my corpse doesn’t bring down the mood before the game.
We walk for a long time, or maybe it’s no time at all, but suddenly I’m standing in my office. My eyes land on the inspirational poster Scott gave me, and a panicked laugh bubbles up in my chest. I do not want that bald eagle to be the last fucking thing I see.
“Elliot?” Grady’s gentle voice comes from behind me a moment before he moves into my peripheral vision. “What’s going on?”
Even as the anxiety begins to loosen in my chest, I know I can’t look at him. Looking at him will only remind me that I have no control here.
“Panic.”
“Panic?” Grady repeats, his voice full of concern. “Like a panic attack?”
I feel myself nod without any conscious thought to do so. My eyes are locked on the poster as I read the line over and over again.
If you want something you’ve never had, you must do something you’ve never done.
If you want something you’ve never had, you must do something you’ve never done.
If you want something you’ve never had, you must do something you’ve never done.
“How can I help?”
“Talk to me?”
I blame the poster and the lack of oxygen in my blood for asking for anything at all. Grady doesn’t question it, immediately launching into a story I can barely focus on. His voice washes over me as I try to ground myself.
My hands are on fire, and I alternate rubbing circles in my palms with my thumbs. Grady must see me doing it because he’s suddenly in front of me, still talking about some taco place that used to be downtown, but his hands slip through mine, his thumbs pressing into the tingling skin of my palms. He moves in small circles, mimicking the motions I’d been making, and I release a deep breath at the relief it brings.
“How do you feel?”
“Better,” I admit, taking another breath now that my chest is cooperating again. “Thank you.”
He hums, continuing to run his thumbs along my palm. “You want to tell me what happened?”
“Will you hate me if I say no?”
“Not at all.”
There’s no judgment in his voice, and I finally drag my eyes away from our hands to look at his face. “I have panic attacks sometimes.”
“Just randomly?”
“Pretty much,” I shrug, knowing I’m omitting the full truth. “My brain spirals, and my body follows.”
Grady slowly nods, and I see the question forming in his mind. “Was there anything in particular that set you off today?”
“Can I ask you a question and not make things weird between us?”
He briefly thinks about that before saying, “I suppose it depends on the question.”
“Did you want to sleep with me? Like, if I hadn’t already been, you know…in the midst of it,” I look away from him, a deep blush creeping up my neck and spreading across my face. “Would we have ended up sleeping together?”
Grady doesn’t say anything for a moment, but eventually, he clears his throat. “I’m not sure. I only came to your apartment to make sure you were okay and explain why I didn’t immediately kiss you back.”
I nod, my eyes locked on the ground. “Makes sense.”
“But, Elliot,” he tips my chin up until I’m forced to look him in the eye. “That doesn’t mean I regret what we did today. If you want to do that again—or if you want anything else—I’m in.”
“You mean, like,” I try to think of anything that would explain what he’s just said. What else is there? “Experimenting?”
Something changes in Grady’s eyes, but he covers it with a smile. “Exactly.”
“Is that, uh, do you think that’s a good idea?”
“Why not?” He steps closer, his body blocking out the rest of the room. “You said you want to try new things, right?”
“Right?” It’s clearly a question, but Grady doesn’t let that stop him from saying three little words that I know will change my life.
“So, use me.”
“Use you?”
“For my knowledge,” he smirks, and I feel it all the way to my toes. “We’re friends, right?”
“Sure,” I hesitantly agree, because are we? Is that what’s happening here? I can’t think of a single other friend who has called me a good little fuckdoll while I’m riding their dick, but maybe Grady has a different definition of friendship than I do.
“Then what’s the harm in a few benefits between friends?”
What’s the harm, indeed?