Today’s performance wouldn’t have got me so lucky.
‘You two were wild so that doesn’t surprise me.’ Elijah came into this sport already in a relationship with his childhood sweetheart, whom he then married and had kids with, so he never got to experience the crazy nights of celebrating race wins like we did. I probably should feel sorry for him, but I wish, like him, I had someone to go home to with all my trophies.
I just ‘hmm’ in response. There were some good times, I can’t deny that. The fact that I’ve now celebrated more birthdays with Harper in my life than without is one of the good things about turning twenty-nine.
Harper and Elijah slip into a conversation about birthday sex– which apparently isn’t on the cards for me tonight– but I can’t switch my brain off. My thoughts are racing with all the things I’m currently missing out on right now. The years when everything is meant to be good and easy are slipping away from me because the guy I love keeps me dangling. Because he keeps me as a secret. How much have I lost? How much time have I wasted?
For the last three years I could have been dating other guys, finding someone willing to show me off or maybe just, you know, hold hands with me in public or acknowledge my existence. Right now, I could be having shared experiences with my loved-up friends, trading happy stories of our trips away together and plans for the future. Instead, my life’s become a vault I can’t open to them. Instead, he’s turned me into someone who lies to the people I love.
It’s exhausting having to be so careful and secretive. It’s draining the life out of me.
I blink and find I’m alone in the bed. It takes me a second to realise that Elijah’s at the door accepting our food, Harper hovering behind him eagerly.
‘Can you at least put down some towels?’ I scold Harper before Elijah can start laying out the plates on my bed sheets. I’d prefer not to be sleeping on sauce and oil stains tonight.
‘Ohhhhh, I haven’t heard you say that in so long! For a second, I almost felt a thrill.’ Harper runs to the bathroom to grab a couple of big fluffy towels, while I swallow uncomfortably. That’s not a memory I want to think about anymore.
‘Sometimes I forget you two have shagged,’ Elijah contributes helpfully as he lays the dishes down on my newly protected bed. ‘So strange how Harper’s slept with both of my friends.’
‘I wish I could forget, too,’ I reply, but there’s no forgetting. Ever. I don’t regret it, though, not when it’s part of why we’re so close today.
‘No one ever forgets this ass, don’t you worry.’ Harper gives his perky little butt a tap, before seating himself in front of the ridiculous amount of food we seem to have. I’m pretty sure Elijah’s ordered every possible side dish on the menu to accompany three hulking pieces of steak.
As I swallow a piece of the tenderest, butteriest steak, it hits me how grateful I am for these two. I wanted to be alone, but now I’m glad I’m not.
‘Thanks guys,’ I say around a piece of tenderstem broccoli. ‘I do appreciate you both coming tonight.’
Harper drops his fork onto his plate with a clatter and throws his arms around me, tugging me close as I try not to choke on my mouthful of steak. ‘We love you, okay? All we want is to celebrate you.’
It’s not the kind of love I was looking for tonight, but as my best friend clutches at the back of my T-shirt, I realise it’s better. I’m lucky that I haven’t pushed them both so far away that they don’t want to be here for me.
‘Love you, too,’ I mutter into his curly hair, before pushing him away. ‘Now let me eat my steak.’
We settle into conversations about the rest of the season and where we’re flying to next and then fall into shared food comas once Elijah moves all the trays to the cart in the hallway. It’s a good evening, once I embrace it. I look at the time and see it’s just before 2 a.m.– and whilst I have a flight tomorrow and should probably be asleep, I don’t want them to leave.
I contemplate suggesting we all bunk down here, in my room, like we aren’t grown men who have their own beds in this hotel tonight, when there’s a knock at the door.
‘Did you order yourself a rent boy for the night?’ Harper teases as the knocking doesn’t stop.
‘Or maybe it’s the hotel staff coming to tell you to shut the fuck up,’ I say. Harper is fond of singing along to whatever background music is playing.
‘Unlikely. I have the voice of an angel.’
‘Sure you do,’ Elijah says sarcastically.
‘The hotel’s been taken over by racing drivers and team staff– it’s probably someone who’s wasted and got the wrong room.’
‘Well why don’t you answer it and tell them to bugger off,’ Elijah suggests irritably.
I shrug Harper off and pad to the door and the second I open it, I regret not looking through the peephole first, because there he is.
The only person I really wanted to see tonight.
His wavy brown hair is scraped back into a bun on the top of his head and his chocolate-brown eyes are hugged with dark shadows. His glasses rest on his nose in place of his usual contacts, so I know he must be tired, and I find myself softening towards him. But it takes him precisely three seconds to go from exhausted to panicked as he realises I’m not alone.
I can’t speak. If I do, I’m going to give the game away because the only thing I want to ask is where the fuck he’s been and why he’s been ignoring my messages. I want to tell him how pissed off I am that he forgot my birthday. That with him, I never ever come first. Yet I can’t say any of that in front of Harper and Elijah. I’m sure even a quick glance over my shoulder right now will make them both immediately suspicious. So, I just stand there like an idiot and don’t say anything at all.
The panic slides away as he schools his face into a blank expression. He forces out a laugh and pretends to catch sight of the others. ‘Shit, sorry, I must have the wrong room! I was looking for—’ he’s playing calm-and-collected very successfully. But then he struggles to find a name. Eventually he comes up with: ‘Anna.’
