Theo flips Grady a middle finger. “You fucking suck.”
“I heard Harlow came to visit. She said it was a wild time.” Grady had filled me in on the situation with Theo and his sister’s concerns. Judging but what I’ve seen in the last three hours, Harlow is right. Theo has a problem.
But Theo scoffs at Grady’s words. “She’s such a lightweight. And a worrywart. It wasn’t even that fun a time. She didn’t even want to go out the last night. We stayed in and barbecued in my backyard like we were an old married couple.”
He looks at Grady and my drinks. He frowns. “Speaking of old, are you two sixty or something? Can’t handle your booze anymore?”
“Actually, no. The cancer treatment really did make me a lightweight,” I reply, and his cocky grin fades in front of my eyes. I always feel bad when I make someone uncomfortable, so I smile. “But also, we are like eight years older than you, so talk to me when you’re this age. If you can still get up early and perform at practice with a hangover at twenty-nine, then I’ll have them wipe my name off the Cup and etch yours on instead.”
Theo laughs and then downs the rest of his beer in two long pulls. He places the bottle on the bar top and immediately orders another. Grady and I exchange glances.
It’s another hour and a half before we can convince him to head home. Finally, we’re dropping him into the back of a cab and waving goodbye. It’s only a little before midnight, but that’s late enough considering we have a morning skate, jet lag, and a game tomorrow night. I watch Grady as we ride back to the hotel. He’s pensive, his eyes staring out the window but not really focusing on any of the crowds or bright lights whizzing by.
He looks so gorgeous right now. Like a brooding lumberjack in his loose green plaid shirt, he’s wearing like a jacket on top of a black Henley. The lights outside dance across his chiseled cheekbones and make the copper in his hair brighter than normal. “What are you going to do?”
He sighs, exhaling for several seconds before he responds. “Talk to him sober. Tomorrow morning, before practice, I’ll surprise him at his house. And then, if he still acts like nothing is wrong, I’ll tell the rest of the family.”
I nod because fuck if I know if that’s the best course of action. I thank my lucky stars Callan and Lola aren’t in any kind of trouble. I don’t think. I mean… do I know? Grady spends the rest of the drive staring out the window, so I use the time to create a group text for me and my siblings.
LANDON: Hey. Thought we should have a group chat. Stay up-to-date on stuff.
I don’t expect a response, but I get one from Lola.
LOLA: Weird. Also, it’s like three fucking a.m. here, Land. Fuck.
LANDON: Sorry. Forgot. Night.
LOLA: STOP TEXTING.
I start to write another apologetic message, but catch myself.
CALLAN: Both of you STFU. Also, good idea. Now fuck off.
I smile and shake my head, but I shove my phone in my pocket as the cab pulls up in front of the hotel. We may not be the Garrisons, but it could be worse. I guess. I climb out of my side, and Grady gets out his, and we head into the hotel.
Alone in the elevator, I subtly reach for Grady’s hand, but he steps away, out of reach. Staring straight ahead at the buttons, he says softly, “Cameras in the elevator. Remember Beyoncé and Jay Z?’
Right. They got caught in a fight in an elevator and were tabloid fodder for months. My eyes flicker up to the small dark disc in the corner above the doors and right back down. “Sorry. I just… You seem like you need a hug. Or something.”
“I probably do,” Grady admits, turning briefly to look at me. “And I definitely need that or something. But it’s late and we both have to get some sleep.”
He’s right. So why does it sting to hear? We get off the elevator, and I follow him back to the room. Once inside, the cloud of euphoria I have been floating on dissipates. All our luggage is open on one bed, and the other has been cleaned up since our romp, but my brain fills with flashbacks of it. Grady starts to move the luggage off the extra bed and to the chair and the luggage holder in the corner by the bathroom. I feel that sharp sting of rejection again.
I assumed we’d share a bed. Now I feel like an idiot. I mean, why would we? I head into the bathroom before he notices my embarrassed blush. I brush my teeth and wash my face, and take a piss. Then I check my phone again and even play Wordle before I walk back into the bedroom. I want him to make the decision of where to sleep without me present. No pressure and no awkward conversation.
I find him lying in his boxer briefs on top of the sheets on the bed he cleared. “Finally. I thought you died in there.”
He rolls off the bed and heads into the bathroom. I pull off my shirt, strip down to my underwear, place everything in a neat pile on my open suitcase, and then crawl under the sheets. Grady doesn’t say anything when he comes back in. He just crawls into the bed next to mine and turns off the light.
“Night.”
“Night.”
It takes me over an hour, but I finally get my heart to stop feeling wounded and my brain to stop overthinking and drift off. I wake up around six in the morning to the feel of something heavy, warm, but scratchy against the left side of my chest. It’s Grady’s head. I dip my chin, so my lips skim the top of his disheveled hair, and then I float happily back into sleep.
When my alarm goes off an hour and a half later, Grady’s gone. He must have left to see Theo. I send him a quick text.
LANDON: Good luck. If you need anything, I got you.
