- BLAIR -
February, 2015
It took almost six months until Garrett finally convinced me to give indoor soccer another go. And it was no surprise that David Beckham hadn’t possessed my body in the last year and a half like I’d hoped.
But still, it was casual, so no one cared I sucked. Except for Sam—the guy who organised the games. He didn’t seem pleased I was there at all.
It wasn’t until we got back into Garrett’s car to go home that I realised why.
“Okay … something weird just happened,” he said.
“Oh?”
“Did you know Sam was gay?”
“I did not pick up on that at all.”
Garrett cracked his knuckles and then turned the ignition in his car. “I always did as you told me. While I was in there, it was never about being gay—I’d only focus on soccer—so I guess I didn’t pay close attention to any of the other guys. And I always turned them down when they asked me out for drinks after games. Sam tonight … he pulled me aside and, umm, he asked me out.”
“Ah, that explains the death stares he was giving me all night.”
“He wondered if we were together.”
“So he’s liked you for the last … what, eighteen months and didn’t say anything?” I hoped the jealousy in my voice wasn’t obvious.
In the past six months, we’d seen each other through a handful of hook-ups each—all people we’d taken home from a bar—and while it was kinda awkward the first time it happened, I was surprised jealousy didn’t come into play. At least, not on my part. I could’ve sworn I heard him mutter under his breath at a few of my hook-ups, but when I turned to ask him what he said, he claimed he didn’t say anything.
I wasn’t jealous of guys Garrett took home from Sin, because I knew they’d only be a hook-up. He wasn’t ready to have a relationship and be out, so I knew they didn’t mean anything.
Sam though … they had a lot in common, and he was hot for an older guy.
“Apparently, he spent that whole time trying to work out if I was even gay. And when I turned up with you tonight, he realised he didn’t want to miss his chance.”
“Are you going to go out with him? He’s like ten years older than you.” Am I sweating? Pretty sure I didn’t sweat this hard during the entire soccer game.
“I told him we’d both meet him for drinks later. Like a casual date thing, but not, because you’ll be there as a buffer.”
I inwardly groaned, but apparently it was out loud.
“Please come with me? Sam might be someone who could be more than just a fuck, and that scares me. I haven’t had that with anyone apart from … well … you.”
He wasn’t meant to fall for anyone else. He could screw whoever he wanted, but actually date? No. No, no, no, no, no. I’m not ready for this. “You’re asking a lot of our friendship right now.”
“It’s not like I’m going to fuck him on a cocktail table in front of you. Just having you there will put me more at ease.”
I had to remind myself I had no claim to Garrett. This whole friend thing worked because sex wasn’t involved. We couldn’t go back to that, and neither of us expected the other to be celibate or single forever … but …
No, no, no, no, no.
“Fine,” I grumbled.
Garrett dropped me home and said he’d be back in an hour to pick me up.
After a shower and some dinner, I started pacing my small living room wondering how I was going to survive the night.
There was a knock at my door, and my stomach sank, knowing it was him. Why did I say yes to this?
Instead of Garrett though, a short redheaded chick stood in front of me when I opened the door.
“Oh, thank God, someone who’s not eighty,” she said. “Do we live in an old people’s home?”
I chuckled. “You must be the new neighbour who moved in downstairs.”
“I’m Caitlin … well, Caity.”
“Blair. And you’re living on the ground floor, so, of course, all the oldies live down there. If you’re into heavy goth, Travis lives next door. He’s in his twenties.” I pointed my thumb to my right and then leaned in and whispered, “Although, I’m pretty sure he’s part of a death cult.”
She laughed. “I might look into it. I escaped from a nunnery, so I need to experience as much wildness as possible.”
I couldn’t tell if she was being serious. “A nunnery? Really?” I kept my tone playful because I assumed she was joking.
“Practically. My mum’s house felt like one. God punishes whores, God doesn’t like this, God, God, God.”
“And are you a whore?” I asked with a smirk.
She pulled back, aghast. “Did you just ask if I get paid to have sex?”
“Well, I was wondering why that was the biggest issue for you. The bible bashes a lot of the fun stuff, and you picked whoring.”
“Oh. Well, no. I’m no virgin, but I’ve never been offered money. I probably picked whoring because that’s what Mother always called me whenever I’d wear a short skirt or revealing top.” Her eyes flicked to mine and widened. “Oh my God, did I just tell you I wasn’t a virgin? I just met you. What is wrong with me? Can we start over? Hi, I’m Caity, I’m your new neighbour. I like long walks on the beach—not really but that’s what everyone usually says—and I’m twenty-one years old.”
I was trying so hard not to laugh. “I’m Blair. I’m almost twenty-seven, I’m certainly no virgin, and if your mother ever met me, she’d probably condemn me to Hell for liking men as much as I like women.” I had no idea why I thought it was a good idea to tell a complete stranger—one I had to live in the same building as—that I was bi. There was a fairly good chance she was going to flip her lid, especially seeing as she had an obvious strict upbringing.
“Awesome!”
Or not.
“Being friends with you is an act of rebellion in itself, so I hate to tell you, but you’re stuck with me now.” She pushed her way into my apartment. “Now, new bestie, I have a dilemma. In the move, my coffee machine somehow smashed, and I don’t think you could understand how much of a coffee addict I am. Can I please, please, please use yours?”
“Something tells me you’ve had enough coffee today,” I joked. She was jittery and moved a million miles a minute. “How did you smash your coffee machine?”
“I don’t remember it being that heavy, and I thought I could move it myself. And trust me, no one is as devastated as me. I didn’t cry at my grandfather’s funeral but some serious tears were shed today. Whoever said don’t cry over spilled milk had clearly never broken their coffee machine. Mother said it smashed because coffee is liquid sin and it was God’s way of punishing me. I so wish I was joking.”
My new neighbour was a nut, but I was already in love with her. In the neighbourly, don’t mess around with her kind of way, because it’d be stupid to hit on someone who lived twenty feet under me.
“Well, help yourself to my coffee machine. I was just waiting on someone, and we were going to head out.”
“Oooh a date? Man or woman?”
I tilted my head to the side, trying to decipher her interest.
“What?” she asked.
I shook my head. “Nothing. It’s just, in my experience, people aren’t super okay with the whole bi thing right away.”
She waved her hand dismissively. “I may’ve grown up in a crazy-ass house with a crazy-ass mother, and I may be a Christian, but not all of us with faith follow the bible like the full-on nutters do. I believe it’s open to interpretation, and the main message I get from it is love and respect everyone, no matter who they are or who they love.”
“And how does your mother feel about your open interpretation?”
“I’m a whore, remember?”
I laughed. “Right.”
A knock sounded behind me, and I turned to see Garrett standing in the open doorway. “Whoa, Rhodes, you didn’t tell me you were bringing a date on our date.”
“A guy. I knew it,” Caity beamed. “Don’t mind me, I’m just here for coffee.”
While Caity walked into the kitchen, Garrett leaned in and whispered, “Who is that?”
“New neighbour. Ready to head out?”
He nodded.
“Caity, can you lock my door on your way out?” I called out.
“Holy shit, you trust me in your apartment already? I swear I won’t snoop. Okay, I so can’t make that promise. Can you wait two minutes while I make my coffee and then you can lock me out of here? I don’t trust myself.”
Garrett laughed.
I shoved him. “No problem.”
A couple of minutes later, she reappeared from my kitchen, holding one of my coffee mugs. “I promise I’ll bring the cup back in the morning. Goodnight, boys.” She left my apartment and bounded down the stairs to her own.
“I like her,” Garrett said.
“So do I,” I muttered.
“Ready to do this?”
No.
“I know it’s kinda weird, but—”
“I’m all good,” I lied. “Let’s go.”
***
“Sam,” I said, shaking his hand as I approached the cocktail table.
“Blair.”
Garrett trailed in behind me, fidgeting with the collar of his shirt.
The fact he was nervous made me nervous because it meant he really liked Sam.
I stayed at the table while they went to the bar to order drinks. As subtly as I could, I scoped Sam out. His blond hair was flat up top and spiked up front, styled to make him look younger, but grey hair had started to blend in with the blond.
Garrett slid a beer in front of me, but I was still too busy analysing Sam and the chances of Garrett falling for someone like him.
“So I know Garrett’s in marketing, what do you do?” Sam asked.
I snapped out of what had turned into blatant ogling and met his hazel eyes. “Uh, I work for a production company.”
“Cool, like movies?”
I nodded.
“He’s also a writer,” Garrett said. I winced on reflex because only a handful of people knew that, but my reaction made Garrett laugh. “He hates admitting that though.”
“I don’t think I can class myself as a writer until I’m getting paid for it.”
“You will be. One day.” The conviction in Garrett’s voice made my chest tight. “Which reminds me, you need to give me more. I told you making Brent gay would be awesome.”
I’d practically rewritten my entire script, and I gave the revision to him a few weeks ago. Ever since he read it, he’d been hounding me to hurry up and finish it. It was the motivation I needed to finally get it done after so many years of going back and forth on it.
“So, you guys have known each other a long time then,” Sam said.
“Since we were kids,” Garrett said. “He’s one of the only people in my life who knows I’m gay.”
“Ah, that explains the closeness, I guess.”
“Closeness?” I asked.
“To be honest, I thought you guys were a couple.”
Garrett smiled. “Nah. Not anymore.”
Awkward. I didn’t think he’d admit to it.
Sam shifted in his seat as his eyes flitted between Garret and me. “Oh. Oh. Is this weird?” Sam asked.
“So fucking weird,” I said, passing it off as a joke. “But it’s cool. Garrett and I are too opposite to work as a couple. Whenever we’ve crossed that line, things have gotten messy. Literally, because he’s a slob.” Not that his messiness or us being opposites was ever our downfall, but I was trying to deflect.
“No, he’s a neat freak,” Garrett argued.
“Correction, I like things sanitary.”
“I’m great with money, he’s hopeless and always broke,” Garrett said.
“Oh, we’re doing that, are we? How about you’re a competitive asshole, and I always have a sunny disposition and couldn’t care less if I win or lose.”
“Always sunny except in the morning when you’re a grumpy ass.”
Sam laughed. “You actually fight like brothers. That kinda eases my mind a bit.”
If only he knew Garrett was the last person in the world I wanted to be brotherly with.
As the night went on, it became clearer that while Garrett and Sam had soccer in common, they didn’t have much else. But as we’d already established, Garrett and I didn’t have much in common either, and yet we’d had this on-again, off-again relationship for almost four years now.
And, like Garrett, Sam didn’t acknowledge he was gay until he was in his late twenties, so they could relate to each other about something Garrett had always struggled with.
When Garrett gave me the “fuck off head nod” behind Sam’s back, I made an excuse and cabbed it home.
The whole taxi ride, I tried to convince myself Sam was what Garrett needed. Maybe with someone stable and mature, Garrett would be able to move forward.
Fuck knew I was no help to him in that department. If anything, all I did was hold him back because he used me as a crutch.
As much as I was going to hate seeing them together at soccer every Monday—something I’d stupidly agreed to continue to go to—a bigger part of me hoped Garrett had found what he was looking for.