Playing Favorites: A Reverse Harem Romance

by Scarlet West

  I headed out to buy groceries.

  The next day, I went out to get a bottle of wine to take with me to visit Donnell—a longstanding tradition. Then I got dressed around five thirty. It was also more-or-less traditional to smarten up a bit when going to visit Donnell to sample his cuisine.

  I grinned at myself in the mirror. I was wearing a navy-blue shirt and dark-gray jeans. I shrugged on a blazer that was a sort of grayed blue and seemed to work. Then I headed out.

  The traffic between me and Donnell was a bit heavy, so I ended up getting there closer to quarter to seven. I felt a bit bad as I hurried up the steps into the lift.

  “Hi, Donnell,” I said, as he opened the door. “I’m so sorry I’m late. I was in traffic and I couldn’t get through the damn stuff fast enough.”

  He shook his head, looking unusually calm. “That’s okay,” he said. “I was just getting ready to dish up. You’re just in time—we just moved to the kitchen.”

  “We?” I frowned. “Donnell, what have you…”

  I trailed off as a voice that spoke from my most-private dreams spoke from the kitchen.

  I got up from the barstool in Donnell’s kitchen and wandered through to the hallway, hearing him speaking to someone. I stopped in the hallway just behind him. I stared.

  “Grayson?”

  He stared at me with a look of horror. Then he looked at Donnell.

  “Donnell, you bastard,” he said tightly. “Why did you lie to me?”

  “I didn’t,” Donnell said in a soft voice. “I didn’t say Kelsey wasn’t going to visit.”

  He laughed, a harsh sound. “No,” he agreed. “You didn’t. You bastard.”

  “I’m not a bastard,” he said, sounding hurt. “I was perfectly honest. Now, why don’t we…”

  “No,” he said. “Listen, Donnell. I’ve had enough. You and Heath and Clarke and everyone—you can all just stop it now. You’ve had your fun with me. Now go away.”

  “Grayson,” He said softly. “Now, look.”

  “No!” Grayson spun around from where he’d been about to leave. “Dammit, Donnell. You could at least know when to stop. It isn’t funny.”

  “I wasn’t laughing,” he said mildly. “No one was. Now why don’t you come in and have some dinner?”

  “I don’t want to have dinner,” he snapped. I stared at him. I felt hurt. What the heck had gotten into him?

  “Grayson,” I said, clearing my throat. “Please? Listen…I…”

  “You’re just here to talk to him,” he said. “I know. You’re all just making a big joke at my expense. I trusted you,” he spat at me. “And I was dumb.”

  With that, he turned around and walked out.

  I stared at Donnell.

  “Wait…” Donnell said. The door slammed. He shook his head.

  We looked at each other in the dim half-light of the hallway.

  “What happened to him?” I asked.

  Donnell shrugged.

  “He doesn’t trust me,” he said.

  I felt my heart twist. He sounded sad.

  “It isn’t that,” I demurred. “It’s me. He’s mad at me.”

  “No, it isn’t that,” Donnell said, turning to face me, a soft expression lighting up his somber dark eyes. “No one could be.”

  I smiled at him. I really was fond of him and had no idea that he was that fond of me too.

  “Well, I dunno about that,” I said softly. “I’m sure he has his reasons for being mad at me. I just, well, I guess I didn’t expect that.”

  I felt a little wobbly suddenly, and went through to the sitting room to sit down. I collapsed onto the couch, feeling my legs go out from under me. Dammit, why was I so tired?

  “It’s not your fault,” Donnell said. His voice was serious as he came to sit down opposite me heavily. He looked older than his twentysomething years—way older. “It’s not your fault at all.”

  “Well, it probably is,” I said tightly. I sniffed, feeling stupid. I had let this all go too far. And now people were mad at me, which was probably only justifiable.

  “No, it isn’t,” Donnell said again, softly. “This all happened years ago. When we were all kids. It’s been like this with Grayson and Heath and I—Clarke, being the youngest, is more or less out of the whole story—for years now.”

  “Oh?” I lifted my glass and frowned, wondering what this was all about.

  “Yeah,” Donnell sighed. “You see, when we were kids, after Mom…after she passed,” he said tightly, “Dad and Heath were very close. He was the eldest, you see, and Dad relied on him, quite a lot. The rest of us didn’t really understand it. All we saw was our only remaining parent favoring someone. Heath didn’t act out about it, he was just…well…Heath.”

  I nodded. Upstanding and strong. Those were the two words that came to my mind. The archetypical elder brother.

  “Grayson resented that?”

  “You bet,” Donnell nodded.

  “Oh.”

  I felt my stomach twist painfully, in a way that wasn’t because I wanted my dinner, and everything to do with the fact that I felt bad. I had unwittingly played into the pattern that had been holding the siblings apart for years. I had no idea what I was going to do about it.

  “Quite,” Donnell nodded. “It’s an old story.”

  “And there’s nothing I can do about it, not now.”

  Donnell shook his head. “I guess not, no.”

  I paused, leaning back. All my emotions coalesced inside me and I wanted to cry. I sniffed, holding back my tears. It had really hurt, having Grayson round on me like that. It wasn’t fair, I thought sadly. Why had he blamed me? I wasn’t the one to blame.

  “Well,” Donnell sighed. “We can have dinner?”

  I smiled. “I think that’s an excellent idea.

  We went through to the kitchen. The scent of roasting, spicy root vegetables and crisp-skinned fish assaulted my poor stomach as he opened the oven door, making my insides ache.

  “So,” Donnell smiled, as he started to unload the vegetable mix onto two plates, “since I cooked for three, we can eat well.”

  I smiled at him. “Oh, Donnell,” I said.

  We had dinner together and it was fun to talk to him. We shared sparkling wine and ate the delicious meal and discussed finance. I really liked him.

  “So?” he raised a brow as we finished washing up. “How was that?”

  “It was wonderful.”

  We kissed. It felt weird, kissing Donnell. I felt my insides crimp with arousal even as my heart felt sad. It was a comforting kiss, though. The kiss of two people whose passion has turned to friendship and grown stronger for it.

  “So?” Donnell said as we went to sit on the couch together. His arm was around me and I burrowed against the warmth of him, feeling my tummy tingle with a mix of arousal and warm familiarity.

  “So,” I said, looking into his eyes, “I guess I shouldn’t stay?”

  He looked a trifle upset, but nodded.

  “Well, I understand,” he said gently. “I really don’t want to make demands.”

  I felt my heart melt a little and I kissed him again, a bittersweet, gentle kiss.

  “Oh, Donnell,” I said softly. “I really am fond of you—more so than I think either of us knew.”

  He chuckled. “I’m honored, Kells, really,” he said. “And I will continue to regret the fact that I’m helping Grayson, you know. But the fact is, I’m too fond of both of you now to do anything else.”

  I kissed him and held him close and he kissed me and then I was heading out of the door, my eyes blurred as I tried not to cry with a mix of tension and tenderness that filled me.

  20

  Grayson

  I went home, my anger carrying me into my car and back up the street the way a furnace carries little particles of dirt high into the air overhead.

  I slammed the door shut and sat down on the couch, leaning back, eyes closed. I felt set upon, like I was surrounded by foes.

  I f
elt betrayed. How could Donnell lie like that?

  “He didn’t lie,” I told myself, trying to be reasonable. Even the effort of being reasonable seemed to stick in my throat, though, and I gave it up for a bad job.

  I felt betrayed by him, even though he hadn’t explicitly lied.

  “How dare he invite Kelsey?”

  My phone rang. I went to pick it up. It was Clarke.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey!” my youngest brother sounded lighthearted. “How’s things? Heath said you were out of it?”

  “I’m okay,” I sighed, regretting my duplicity when I heard the concern in my little brother’s tone. “Just a bit of a chill. I’m okay by now.”

  “Great,” Clarke said.

  “You back in town?” I asked.

  “Almost,” he said. “My flight leaves in about an hour. I’ll be back by ten tonight.”

  “Great,” I said. “Can I do something?”

  “Not really,” Clarke said lightly. “I’ve got my car at the airport, so I’ll get back okay—but thanks. I appreciate it.”

  “It’s nothing,” I said. I felt my heart lighten up a little as I talked to Clarke. It was nice not to feel like my brothers were all enemies. At least Clarke and I could still talk to each other.

  I leaned back in the chair, thinking about it. Clarke had also been with Kelsey, but, oddly enough, I didn’t resent it. Both my other brothers, I resented. But not him.

  “So?” Clarke was saying. “Want to come around tomorrow? I thought it would be fun to catch the baseball on the TV? There’s a replay of tonight’s game.”

  I shrugged. “Sounds good,” I said. “I’d like that. I want to talk.”

  “Great.”

  When we’d made arrangements, I hung up. I thought about it carefully.

  Clarke, I thought, was never in on the whole issue when we were growing up. He was the baby and we all felt the need to take care of him, first when Mom died, and then later—much later, when Dad did—we’d felt that too. There was never any competition between me and Clarke—between any of us and Clarke.

  It made me wonder if I would resent this whole Kelsey thing as much if it wasn’t for that.

  I would find out, I decided, when I went to see Clarke tomorrow.

  “Hi!” he greeted me effusively when I came in. He looked as boyish as ever, in a white shirt and pale jeans. He gave me a big hug. “Come in! I made popcorn.”

  I grinned, smelling the familiar smell. I was suddenly transported back to when we were kids and Dad had always made popcorn before a big match. I felt my heart twist painfully. I came to sit down with Clarke.

  “So?” I asked as he took a handful, crunching away obliviously. “How were the flights?”

  “From LA?” he asked. “Good.”

  “Good,” I nodded. “For a guy who didn’t have much sleep last night, you look amazing.”

  He laughed. “Thanks. I actually slept really late today. You should try it,” he added, “it does wonders for the stress levels.”

  “I look stressed?” I was surprised.

  He grinned. “Sorry, Grayson,” he said. “You kinda do. I guess you’ve just been sick, though, so maybe it’s that. Sorry I said something,” he added kindly. “Let’s watch.”

  I leaned back, glancing at the TV. I wondered if he knew about the argument. “Um…” I began.

  “What?”

  “You talked to Donnell yesterday?”

  “Yeah,” he nodded. “He seemed happy. I think he saw Kelsey.”

  “Um, yeah,” I nodded. I was surprised. “He told you?”

  “Not in as many words, no.”

  I sighed. “Is Donnell in love with her?”

  It was a possibility I didn’t want to contemplate, though it seemed quite obvious. I didn’t know why I was even worrying, though. I wasn’t going to stay here—I’d booked my flight to Michigan.

  Clarke stared. “I don’t know,” he said, as if the possibility hadn’t occurred to him. “Why? Did he tell you anything?”

  I laughed. It added a harsh note to an otherwise peaceful conversation. Clarke looked startled. “No,” I said.

  “So?” he frowned. “I don’t think so, Grayson. Why?”

  I shrugged. “No reason. Just that she was around there yesterday.”

  “Oh.”

  We sat in silence for a while. I noticed Clarke looking at me in consideration.

  “You should contact her,” he said.

  I stared. “What would I say?”

  Clarke raised a brow. “I dunno. Ask her for coffee. Come on. It can’t hurt.”

  “You have her number?” I asked. Stupid question.

  He nodded. “Sure do,” he smiled. “Would you like it?

  I felt my insides crimp painfully. I suddenly felt stage fright. If I did contact her, what the heck would I say?

  “Maybe,” I said.

  He grinned. “Okay.”

  I waited while he scrolled down on his phone, finding it. “Okay,” he said. “Here it is…”

  He read it aloud for me and I saved it on my phone. I looked down at it, feeling the same kind of anticipation, I imagined, as if I were holding the switch for an explosive. It felt like there was something of immense import in my hands—something that could blow me to hell if I used it wrong. I swallowed hard.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  He laughed. “Don’t mention it.”

  I put my phone away and he passed me the popcorn.

  We watched the game together.

  As the last yells of triumph and dismay died down—Clarke’s team had lost—I stretched and stood.

  “Thanks for a great afternoon,” I said sincerely.

  He laughed. “It was fun. Even though my team came second.”

  I laughed at the euphemism. “Exactly,” I said. “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” I had planned to go in tomorrow to confront Heath.

  “Great,” Clarke nodded. “I’m going to be passing on what I learned at this course.”

  “Oh. Well, enjoy that,” I nodded.

  He grinned. “I’ll do my best, Grayson.”

  We said our goodbyes and I drove off to my house. It was about five P.M.. I sat down on the couch, my phone on my knee. I looked at it almost as if it as poisoned. I had no idea what to do. I wanted so badly to call her and yet I had no idea if it was a good idea or not.

  I took it out and went onto her number to send a message.

  Hi Kelsey, I wrote.

  I shook my head. That sounded silly. What could I say? How did a person even start after all this craziness?

  I just wanted to say sorry for what I did on Saturday. I hope you’re okay. G.

  I felt my heart twist painfully as I wrote that. I wanted so badly to apologize, and yet it felt awkward and I couldn’t quite bring myself to sign it—it seemed almost too formal to me. I sent it.

  I went through the report I was supposed to give to the board tomorrow, made myself dinner and sat at the kitchen table, looking out over the orange-lit skyline as I ate.

  I went to bed at eleven, with still no word from Kelsey.

  You’re stupid, I told myself harshly. What did you expect her to do?

  I pulled bedcovers over my shoulder, tried not to think of Kelsey and her naked warmth, and crashed.

  When I woke up the next morning, feeling wrecked, I showered, brushed my teeth and dressed in the suit I’d laid out on Saturday already. I was still half-asleep as I made and drank coffee and ate breakfast.

  It was only as I put my phone in my pocket that I noticed the text message there.

  It’s okay, it said. I’ve forgotten about it. No harm done, then?

  I felt a faint warmth spread through my heart, a feeling of happiness and relief.

  “Good,” I said.

  That was what I replied. I drove to work, a frown twisting my forehead. I wasn’t so sure if it was good.

  So I had her number, which was great. And she had mine. And I’d apologized.

/>   I just had no idea what to do next.

  “You can’t make her like you, Grayson,” I said harshly. “If she prefers Donnell, or Heath, there’s nothing you can do about it.”

  I decided to try and be mature about it. I had let my jealousy and envy of my brothers stick me in a rut for far too many years. It was time, I decided firmly, that I was going to just live my own life, regardless of them and theirs. I was going to move to Michigan and start a new life.

  I called my uncle later, to confirm plans. It was five, and he was driving home. He pulled over. “You said you were visiting?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Next weekend. I want to chat about work stuff?”

  “Great,” he said, sounding pleased. “We could do with a guy with organizational skills. I think you’d make a good addition to the team. I need to find out more, of course, and I can’t promise anything, but I know something will come up. They do, you know.”

  “I know,” I nodded. “Well, thanks, Uncle. I’ll see you then?”

  “Great. See you on Saturday. At four thirty, you said?”

  “Yes.” I nodded.

  “Perfect. See you then. Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  When I hung up, I felt a sweet warmth in my chest. Whatever happened, I was going to do this. I knew the way I felt for Kelsey had brought this into my life somehow. I was glad. Love has a way of changing things and freeing people, and that was good, and how I wanted it to be.

  21

  Kelsey

  I went to work on Monday with a weird sadness in my heart. I hadn’t been able to forget about the odd exchange of texts.

  Grayson is being strange.

  I tried to forget about it. Whatever we had to say to each other, we’d said it. That should be it.

  All the same, I couldn’t forget about it; couldn’t stop myself from wondering why this was happening and what I was supposed to do about it.

  I was surprised when I got a call later in the afternoon. I had left a little early—I couldn’t focus anyway—and was just walking up the drive when my phone rang.

  “Kell?”

  “Greer!” I said, instantly cheerier. “How are you, girlfriend?”