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"Today, Hayden." He yawns. "Out with it."
I tug at my collar, which suddenly feels two sizes too small, my entire suit growing heavy and suffocating. "More like my... girlfriend."
The word floats between us, sounding ten different shades of wrong, as if I just spoke Mandarin Chinese without possessing the tongue for it. I've never had a girlfriend. Ever. Not even in high school.
Elias only stares at me, frozen, one-hundred and ten percent stone-cold sober... In a flash, he doubles over, nearly flopping out of his chair, literally howling at the ground with laughter.
Embarrassment burns my cheeks as I watch him smack the table, gasping for air. "What... what the fuck did I just hear?!"
"It's not that big of a—"
"Ahh!" he barks, combusting in another fit. "Who even are you...?" He swipes the tears brimming his eyes. "Who are you, and what have you done with my younger brother?"
I roll my eyes. "Are you done yet?"
"Sorry—sorry!" He breathes, in and out, settling back in his chair. "Come on. You really think I'm buying that? You, dating a gamer chick? What, are you attending church on Sundays now, too?"
Again, with the church analogy. Are him and Jeremy passing notes or something?
"Fine, fine," I grumble, looking out the windows. "It's more of an... off-and-on kinda thing."
"You don't say, Mr. Monogamy." A snicker breezes past his lips. "I was two minutes shy of sending you off to get your head checked out."
Could he be any more dramatic?
"Will you consider her game or not?"
His eyebrows lift. "Gosh, Hayden, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're acting a little defensive over this nerdy girl. Don't tell me—are you catching feelings?"
My face screws up in disgust.
Feelings... I can hardly repeat the word, even in my headspace. To me, it's a foreign concept, a disease I've never caught and don't plan to. Feelings... for Juliana... my best friend's little—
No, I block out the thought. No, no, no. I'm not going there, and never will. There's only one thing I want from her—from any attractive woman, for that matter. Sex. S.E.X. I repeat this familiar word in my mind instead, hoping to drown out the last one.
Once I'm successfully rewired and back to normal, I smirk. "Don't answer a question with a question." Elias shoots me a look, and I have to bite my lip from laughing. "Will you consider her game or not?" I ask again.
His answer is lackluster, but it's all we need.
"Fine."
SIXTEEN
HAYDEN
Ten hours.
Ten fucking hours.
That's how long Elias kept me chained to my cell—I mean desk—today. My precious Saturday gone. Sure, it's only nine o'clock and the night is still young, but my spine feels like it belongs to a centenarian. And I won't even start on how strained my eyes are.
I shuffle through the front door, my shoulders sagging low, as I dangle a plastic takeout bag in one hand and my keys in the other, aiming for my bedroom.
When my phone buzzes in my pocket, I don't hold back my groan. I can already picture the drunken photo sent to our boys' group chat or blasted across social media just fine without opening it. Judging by the time, they're probably at some bar scarfing down buffalo wings, shooting tequila, and getting familiar with members of the opposite sex, before they crawl to the next place.
Unfortunately, it's hard to bar hop crippled.
I trudge down a long hallway, mumbling curses under my breath about the penthouse's size, trailing a hand across the wall for support. Juliana's nowhere to be found; there's not a peep to be heard, and darkness shrouds my surroundings, save for the city's faint gleam through the windows, the glow from the kitchen, and the sliver of light trickling out from beneath her bedroom door.
