Grant

 

 

 

For the second time in as many days, I wake with no recollection of where I lay.

I groan, massaging my throbbing temples as I crack open an exhausted eye. Wherever I am, there’s too much light shining down on me and too much noise.

Just where had I ended up this time?

The only thing that remained unchanged was how much I regretted having too much to drink the night before. This was beginning to be an issue. Hah. It’s been an issue for far too long. But to admit that Eli had a negative influence would be to admit that Reagan was right - and it’s not like I can give her that shred of glory. I’d never hear the end of it.

Barely even awake for ten seconds, a perky voice and a curious face pop into my vision.

“Oh, you’re finally awake!”

Grunting, I flip over onto my stomach to hide from Poppy’s sprightly brown eyes, burying my face into the lumpy couch beneath me as vague memories of the night before began flying through my head like rolling film.

It was like watching someone else’s life. There I was just getting to the strip club, regretting going to the strip club, taking a dozen shots, dancing to the thrum of the bass, women, emptiness.

Then there was Eli trying to drag me away from the hollow unhappiness I’d sunk into. Eli getting frustrated when I couldn’t enjoy the party, and then me eventually slinking off into a corner alone to nurse a beer and a water. It was too late at that point, the room had already begun its torturous spin.

Then there was very little except for the feel of her shoulders under my hands the distant drizzle of rain on my face.

Poppy.

I was at her house.

“I made bacon!” She calls out with that singsong voice of hers as I lift up my head quickly and take a deep breath.

From the other side of the apartment, frying meat lightly pops and sizzles while she dances around the tiny kitchen in a skimpy black cami and long blue flannel pants that are too big for her and hang off her hips. I watch the way she twists and bounces with the spatula until she glances towards me over her shoulder, cheeks going red as our eyes lock. Newly subdued, she carefully turns once more and silently flips an egg in the pan.

 “I like bacon.” I mumble hazily, slowly sitting up on the couch and pushing back the cozy woven quilt that had been covering me. The patchwork was faded and delicate but beautiful. I’d never seen anything like it before. It was the kind of thing that had been created by careful, deliberate fingers. You couldn’t buy something like that at the mall.

“Never met anyone who didn’t.” She croons, plates clattering as she pulls one free of a messy cabinet.

“Where are my clothes?” I yawn, running a hand through my mussed hair and down my bare chest.

It seemed like every time I drank I ended up naked.

“You stripped the second we got here.” Poppy sighs dramatically with another pointed glance my way, “I convinced you to at least keep on your boxers.”

I nod blearily, “You missed out then.” I tease, smirking at her while she only rewards me with yet another eye roll.

“Everything is in the dryer now.” She adds, flipping another egg before whirling around with a frantic gasp, “Oh, no, I didn’t even check if they were dry clean only!”

I shrug, too hungover and tired to care about that now, “It’s not like I can’t buy more.”

That doesn’t seem to resolve her guilt though, as she chews her lip and hastily adds another thick slab of bacon to my plate.

Picking up my phone, I scroll through my texts from last night with squinted, tired eyes. As usual, Eli was the only one to message me.

 

I invited Kitten for you ;)

Shots!

Where’d you go?

Come on man, get out of that corner!

Shots! Shots!

Do I have to send Kitten to get you?

Dammit, Grant, you’re killing the vibe again.

I’m calling Reags.

 

“Who’s Kitten?” Poppy asks curiously from over my shoulder as she lays a plate full of bacon, toast, and cheesy eggs in front of me. I greedily snatch up the plate as though I hadn’t eaten in days, practically salivating at the sight of fresh, fatty bacon.

My personal chef had been on a health kick lately. All I had for breakfast was some Instagrammable fancy avocado toast.

“Nobody.” I mumble through a mouth full of eggs, watching as Poppy sips her coffee and slowly lowers herself into a nearby chair.

We gaze at each other, me eating and her sipping, and suddenly I’m aware that the silence isn’t awkward or overwhelming.

In fact, it’s kind of nice to just be able to relax and enjoy a meal without constant prodding over business numbers, phone calls, or mergers.

With Poppy, things are just… simple. Not in a boring way. But easy. Comfortable.

I’m not quite sure what to make of it. It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.

We hadn’t spent the night together in a sensual way, and yet this right here felt so intimate in its own beautiful way. It was fascinating - and frightening.

“So tell me about this Eli guy. That’s who you were with last night?”

I nod leaning back in my chair and savoring the salty sweetness of bacon melting against my tongue. There truly is no better food after a long night of drinking like bacon.

“I’ve known Eli since we were kids. He moved here from Australia with his dad.”

“I noticed the accent.”

“Women always do.” I smirk.

“Reagan didn’t seem to like him very much.”

I laugh, letting my head rest against the back of the couch. At first the lumpiness was off putting, but now it seemed to have melded with the very shape my body, making the sofa unbelievably comfy. I never wanted to stand up again.

“That’s because she used to love him.”

“Love him?” Poppy’s eyes practically bug from her face. It’s so cute I almost spit out a bite of egg.

“She had the hugest crush on him all through high school, even in college I would catch her staring at him with those big doe eyes.”

The brunette gasps in surprise, taking a slow and pensive sip of her coffee. I can practically see the gears of her brain churning away, “But they never got together?”

“Ah...” I clear my throat, pretending to be fascinated by my remaining strip of bacon while Poppy sighs.

“Was it a ‘wham bam thank you ma'am’ kind of situation?”

“Excuse me?” I sputter, choking on my breakfast, “A what kind of situation?”

She blushes, shifting in her chair and tucking a curl behind the curve of her ear, “Like a one night stand but she wanted more than he could give?”

I can’t help the laugh that bubbles from me, though it makes my head pang painfully.

“No, it wasn’t like that. It was complicated. College was a difficult time for everybody.”

“It has a way of changing people.” Poppy muses drearily, watching the cream of her coffee swirl like a tiny whirlpool as she dips her spoon in the cup.

“I amended our contract.” The woman adds abruptly, her eyes shifting away nervously before resolutely locking back on me, “No strip clubs or drinking and I’m serious about it.”

“Okay.”

“I’m never doing that again, Grant- What?” She pauses, staring at me in shock, “What did you say?”

“Okay.” I repeat after deliberately swallowing a piece of bacon, “You got it. No strip clubs, no drinking. You’ll have me on my best behavior.”

Her lips go taut, eyes uncertain as she watches me, waiting for me to turn it into a joke.

“I was expecting to have to fight you over it.”

“I haven’t enjoyed it in a long time, Poppy.” I sigh and she doesn’t miss my glance towards her coffee mug, springing up to fetch me one herself.

She slides it across the table to me, a glittery rainbow unicorn prancing across the white porcelain. The handle is painted in rainbow shades, making up the tail of the majestic beast.

I lift a curious eyebrow, taking a deep sip of the luxurious brown drink. It’s amazing. Like drips of heaven.

Or maybe I’m just that hungover.

“My sister’s cup.” Poppy says quietly, eyes dropping away again.

I frown, head cocking to the side as my phone abruptly buzzes.

“Mornin’, Reags.” I yawn, holding the phone away from my ear in expectation of a good lecture.

Poppy grins from behind her coffee mug, giving a little shake of her head. Her unbrushed hair spirals in a messy mane along her shoulders, tiny auburn wisps curling against her cheeks. The early afternoon sun washes her hair gold and I’m almost so startled by her unexpected beauty that I forget I’m talking to Reagan.

“It’s almost noon.” She corrects as I sigh.

Reagan always has to have the upper hand somewhere in the conversation.

 “But how are you feeling?” The office manager asks dully, hubbub of the office circling around her, “Enjoy your final romp in the party scene?”

“Not particularly.”

She chuckles dryly, “Well the shareholders are out today so you can just recover. Poppy’s too good for you, you know.”

Poppy, who can’t hear my conversation, smiles uncertainly when my eyes shoot back towards her.

“I know.” I reply quietly, clearing my throat, “I’ll be in on Monday. Bright eyed and bushy tailed and stone cold sober.”

“If you aren’t, I’ll hunt you down and drag you in myself.”

“Ah. Well then...”

“Bye, Grant.” I can hear the smirk in her words as she hangs up the phone, leaving me with nothing but the dial tone as I slowly lower the phone back onto the table.

Damn. That woman knew how to be terrifying. 

Once again, Poppy and I find each other staring across the table until I break away from her gaze to inspect the tiny living room. It’s obscenely small, like size of my bathroom small, but it’s homey. I’ll give her that. She’s obviously done the best she could with what little space she had. She’s going to be totally blown away when I bring her to my home.

“Are you going to miss this place when you move?” I ask, eyes gliding across a hung portrait of a pretty brown eyed woman beside a stoic looking man, their arms around a girl who is undeniably a young Poppy and an even smaller girl. What a beautiful family, and I mean that with no sarcasm - a rare feat for me. My parents and I had taken pictures very much like that of course, but our smiles had been much more forced. No, Poppy and her parents and her sister looked so genuinely happy to be around one another, a completely foreign concept to myself. 

Had Poppy told them about her impending wedding yet?

“…I’m sorry? I don’t understand.” The woman responds uncertainly, her eyes flowing my gaze at the picture before returning to me once more, “Move?”

“Yeah. Moving in with me. After the wedding?”

All the color drains from her face as her jaw drops towards the floor.

“You expect me to move in with you?” She echoes shrilly, “And sell my apartment?”

I hold up a hand quickly, laughing off the tension that rose between us like lava up the boiling throat of a volcano, “You don’t have to sell it but-”

“That wasn’t in the contract!” She cries, chest rising and falling, “I didn’t know I had to live with you!”

I stand up, abandoning my half eaten bacon to kneel in front of the crooked armchair where she sits. Her eyes narrow on me, her fingers clutching the mug so tight that I’m worried it’ll explode in her hands and send coffee spraying everywhere.

Gently, I remove the mug and rest it on the table, taking her hands in mine. Her fingers are warm and soft.

“This is all just temporary, right?” I say gently, trying to calm the hyperventilating woman, “Believe me, I understand how frightening this whole thing is. How much change we both have to deal with. You won’t sell your apartment, we’ll hire someone to tend to it while you’re gone. It’ll be just how you left it when this whole crazy thing is over with.”

She gives a faint nod, swallowing heavily. Her chest still heaves like a tiny little hummingbird.

“One year, three months. That’s all I need from you. Then you can come back to your apartment and your sister and your parents and forget that it ever happened - minus the million bucks you’ll have, of course.”

I expect her to smile but she goes rigid in her chair, brow knotting together just as the front door bursts open.

“Sis, I wanted to get…” The girl in the doorway trails off into shocked silence, her mouth hanging open just like Poppy’s.

Behind her stands a man that I already know.

“David.” I whisper in pure surprise, “Is that you?”

I’d never expected to see him again. Not after everything that had happened.

The young girl, whose eyes are the same shade as Poppy’s pretty gold, stands stone silent in utter bewilderment.

“Who… who are you?” She finally asks with a trembling voice, stepping backwards slightly so that her shoulder is pressed to David’s chest.

Poppy lurches to her feet, snatching her hands away from my grasp. David’s mouth goes taut, his molars grinding down together.

“Grant this is my little sister, Mikayla. David is her boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” I sputter, shaking my head as though I must’ve heard Poppy wrong. The girl standing before me was definitely still just a teenager, “You know he’s my age, right?”

Mikayla’s face goes from stunned to irate so quickly it even outdid Reagan, “Of course I know that! He’s way more mature than boys my age!”

I don’t respond, meeting David’s eyes once more. He stares only at me, his fists slowly balling up at his sides.

“Miki, calm down.” Poppy sighs with a shake of her head, but the girl is clearly beyond that.

“How do you even know my boyfriend?” Mikayla asks bitterly, her eyes dark with angry confusion.

“High school.” I shrug, David’s shoulders relaxing just slightly, his eyes dropping to the ground.

“And you and Poppy?”

“…I’m her boss.” I say slowly, glancing at Poppy.

She hadn’t told anyone yet.

Then again, it’d only just happened. I suppose those things take time. It’s not like I had yelled that I was getting married at the top of my lungs at the bar last night or anything…

Poppy’s wide, troubled eyes meet mine tersely, her lips pursing tight. But she has nothing to worry about, it’s not my secret to spill. Poppy could wait to tell her family until they receive the invites to the wedding for all I care.

Miki arches a skeptical eyebrow but doesn’t question further, her arms crossing tight over her chest.

“We’re just here to grab some more of Miki’s stuff.” David finally says in that deep, raspy voice that hasn’t changed a bit since I last saw him. I pity Poppy’s sister for getting involved with the man.

“What are you getting?” Poppy asks in a fumbling attempt at conversation, trailing after them towards the younger sister’s room, but David stops and steps between them.

“David just thought I should bring some more of my stuff to his place.” The girl shrugs, gesturing for David to follow her into the room. They close the door after them, leaving Poppy in the hall.

“That guy is bad news.” I whisper, grabbing Poppy’s hand and guiding her back into the living room so that the pair can’t hear our low voices, “You should tell her-”

Poppy holds up a hand, interrupting me as her eyes squeeze shut. When she opens them again, her golden orbs are clearly pained.

“I have tried everything to get them to split up. It only convinced her that they’re meant to be or something. There’s nothing I can do, Grant.”

“He’s twenty five!” I hiss, “How old is she? Sixteen?”

“Eighteen. Graduating from high school in a few months. There’s nothing I can do.”

Instead of saying anything, I wrap my arms tight around Poppy and pull her into my chest. She buries her face into the crook of my neck, body trembling.

I glare down the hall towards the closed bedroom door, slight scraping and muffled ruffling drifting through the air.

If there was one thing David was good at it, it was destroying lives.

I knew that all too well.

“Was he a bad kid in high school too?” Poppy asks, her head tilting backwards slightly to look up at me. I release her, leaving one comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Well, he got kicked out.” I frown, “Drugs, petty theft, you name it. He did it.”

She sighs, rubbing her palms against her eyes.

“Kicked out? I thought he dropped out.”

I can only shake my head.

“Maybe he’s changed? Maybe he’s different now and that’s why Miki likes him so much?”

I doubted it, but didn’t say as much, choosing instead to give her shoulder another comforting squeeze. SHe leans into my touch, drawing as much strength as she can from it.

It’s only minutes later that Miki and David once again emerge from the back hallway, carrying a few boxes and bags.

“Why don’t you two join us for some lunch?” I offer, though we’ve only just eaten breakfast.

Poppy looks over excitedly at the prospect, meeting her sister’s uncertain gaze.

The young girl frowns, just beginning to nod her head when David abruptly rejects the idea.

“That’s okay, I think we’re better on our own. Right, babe?” He glances towards her, black eyes demanding.

“Right, babe.” Miki echoes slowly, turning on her heel without a goodbye and following her boyfriend out of the apartment door. It bangs shut behind them, making Poppy flinch.

There’s nothing I can say to help ease the pain in my fiancée’s eyes, though surprisingly enough there are no tears building.

“She’s going to be fine, right?” Poppy abruptly asks, wide brown eyes shifting towards me, “She’s going to be okay?”

“Of course.” I respond hastily, “Of course she will.”

In my gut, however, I know that’s far from the truth.