by Piper Frost
Jumping on my bike, I tug my phone out of my pocket.
GRANT: It's laughable you're blowing me off for this fucking guy. Good girls and good boys probably belong together though.
I take off toward the shop and get a chill. I can't believe I fucking sent that load of jealous bullshit. I storm into the shop and both Chase and Tommy step out of their rooms with furrowed brows.
"The hell you doin' here, Matthews?" Chase walks over to the calendar. "You don't work for three more days."
"I didn't fucking know I could only show up when I fucking work. Fuck you then." I storm out the front door, kicking up dirt and scooping up a rock. Before I launch it, I think about how fucking stupid that would be and I toss it down, feeling like I'm losing my shit.
I don't like this shit. Jealousy, the feeling of being hurt. Fuck this.
Tommy walks out the front door and I look over like a pathetic idiot.
"How about we grab a drink," he says. "Well. I'll grab a drink. It looks like you don't necessarily need that added in to whatever..." He waves in front of me. "This is." He starts walking across the street to the bar like I'm going to follow.
When he walks through the door of Willies I huff and jog across the street. Maybe sitting down with Tommy will help me get my shit together. I plop onto the stool next to him and Willie immediately puts a tall glass of whiskey in front of me. I've told this asshole countless times since I've stopped drinking that I'm not drinking like that anymore. I slide it over to Tommy.
"I picked up Eric," I grumble out and reach over the bar into the ice and pull out the first bottle I feel. Hard cider. Great. Let's get fucking dainty.
"Oh good. Affton's excited for him to be here." He takes a swig of his beer and lets us sit in silence until I can't take it any longer.
"So is Carter. Why's it cool she's fucking Affton's textiles guy, but it's not cool if I'm fucking her?" I bark at him like he's been the one with the issue of me fucking Carter, but it was Affton with the issue. And she fucking knew why. Carter would fucking fall in love. Stupid ass women.
He laughs, shaking his head and turning on his stool. "Man, you know I never cared what you or her did. Wasn't it all fun and games? Ain't that what you said? Friends that fuck, right?"
"Yeah." I slap my hand to the bar. "That's exactly what it was." I gulp down the cider and gag, covering my mouth. "Fuck." I grunt pushing the bottle forward then shudder. "Gross as fuck."
"So then why exactly do you care who she's fucking?" He glances around the room at the small crowd. "Hey, there's Stacey." He nods. "Maybe you should take her home tonight. Didn't she used to be one of your favorites?"
I cringe over at Stacey. I remember her triple nipple piercings but Carter's pink nipples invade my thoughts and I shake my head.
"I care 'cause she ain't fuckin' me anymore. She's pissed the fuck off because I don't want to be in a relationship with her, so now she's fucking this textiles dude who I could crush with the back of my knee."
He chuckles and spins back to the bar, grabbing his beer. "So she wanted more and you bolted?" He nods. "Can you blame her? Why stick around for a guy who's not what she wanted?"
I gasp. I actually fucking gasp. Mouth hanging open and all. I'm fucking offended. And upon realizing this I want to hurl myself off a cliff.
"How dare you," I joke and try to laugh it off because he definitely caught my gasp and his brows are practically in his hair right now. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I check for a response to my jealous text, but there isn't one. "Dude, we had good sex, ya know?" I try to play it cool. "Kinda sucks I gotta go back to the old shit." My fingers flick my phone forward while I try to keep this anger and jealousy bottled up.
"Let me get this straight." Tommy finishes his beer, turns towards me, and clears his throat. His eyes narrow on mine. "You and Carter have been at this for months now. You've done shit with her you've never done with anyone else. Hell, Grant, you haven't even fucked another chick since you started whatever the fuck you were doing with Carter." He pauses and I make a move to defend myself but he cuts me off. "And to make it even worse, I watched the way you treated that girl. Like she was the fucking sun. I don't blame the girl, honestly. Let me guess, she opened up to you and you were a mega douche? So she's trying to move on and you're pissed because...why?"
Because...reasons I can't figure out.
"Because I haven't had sex in a few days," I meekly reply, figuring that's a typical response for me. Tommy's my best fucking friend. If anyone can help me figure this shit out, it's him, but I don't want to fucking figure it out. I want to go back to what we had.
"That's not Carter's fault." He shrugs. "The room's full of girls you could take home and fuck. I don't believe for a second this is about sex." His head shakes. "Look, I live with the girl. Whatever happened between you two changed her but she's not talking. I can guess from the look on your face that I'm right but it makes no sense you're mad at her about it. Find another pussy. Didn't that used to be your motto?"
"Maybe it's not just about pussy," I begrudgingly admit. "She's my friend. I'm losing a friend. And to go back to your pussy ass comment I treated her like the sun. She's my friend. I was nice to her like I am to all my friends." Fuck. Sometimes I forget I'm a grown man and have been out of high school for over a decade.
He barks out a laugh and sighs. "Man, I'm your damn friend and you've never taken me to the waterfall." He lifts an eyebrow. "Grant, how many girls have you fucked in the last couple months other than Carter?" He pauses. "Affton doesn't count," he blurts and I slowly grin.
Numbers keep flying into my head. I need to just lie. Not like he'll check up on me.
"Twenty...negative. Negative twenty," I start rambling like he's got a spell on me. I can't lie to the fucking guy. "Carter's pussy is good enough. I haven't needed to get any other." I shrug like it's no big deal.
He watches me squirm under his glare.
"And yet you told her you won't do commitment? Why, again, is that?"
I look at him like he just puked on me. "Why the fuck would I commit to her? That's your gig, dude. You're okay with being locked down. I'm not going to pass up opportunities elsewhere because of some chick. Why the fuck would I change my routine for this girl?" I scoff.
"Damn." He chuckles. "You're mighty pretty sometimes, but there's not many brain cells in there are there?" He knocks on my head, laughing. "You're a fucking idiot, you know that?"
I nod in agreement, no sense in arguing that. But I'm not an idiot because I won't commit to her. That makes me not an idiot...somehow.
"Grant, do you understand what you've been doing the last couple months is exactly what people in a committed relationship do? They go on dates. They fuck. They share things with each other. They trust..." He sighs. "Somehow, your dumb ass put yourself in this relationship unknowingly committing to one girl. And she fucking fell hard. Then the minute you realize someone may actually love you for who you are and not want to change you you bolt." He scoffs. "Honestly I'm not sure what made her fall as hard as she did. You were a mega dick to her, dude."
"Same reason you fell for me, buttercup." I stand from my stool and kiss his cheek before grabbing the cider and downing the rest. I shiver in disgust, not sure why I just did that. "And she does want to change me. I don't want to be in a relationship. She wants me in a relationship. I don't want to have a girlfriend. She wants to be my girlfriend. That's changing me."
"You're already that man, Grant. You have been ever since she walked into this town. How the hell are you not seeing this?" He glances around. "You're sitting here, pathetic over a girl you claim to have no feelings for, rather than taking your pick of the meat you haven't touched in months." He waves around the bar. "She'll move on without you before you get your head out of your ass, Grant. I can promise you that." He finishes his beer and stands. "Don't be a dumbass, dumbass."
"I know where your remote is," I bark at him before marching toward Stacey. "You, my cock, your mouth." I thumb to
ward the door and she slides off the stool like the whore she is. Except she's actually a whore. Fuck. I don't want a whore like this, but Tommy's right. Carter's gonna move on 'cause she's a weirdo and needs to be in a committed relationship.
I lay in the dark staring at my ceiling like a useless sack of shit.
Grabbing my phone, I pull up our texts. She never responded to my jealous text.
GRANT: That egg's good luck. I used to keep it in my pocket when I was younger. Never failed me.
She never responds.
***
After a week of getting my head on straight, realizing I'm not changing shit for her, I head to Tommy's for dinner. I walk through the door with two bottles of tequila and Affton furrows her brows.
"I know you said not to bring anything, but I'm hoping for some awesome choices tonight." I hold up the bottles and kiss her cheek. Walking into the dining room, I see Eric's still here. I'm not sure why I thought he'd be gone. He said a week. It's been six days. I never flew him out of here, but I stopped thinking about the douche. "Heeeey." I chuckle, landing the bottles on the table and my eyes lock on Carter, accidentally falling to her tits, but they keep going back to her pretty eyes.
"Eric, I left my phone upstairs. Could you go grab it for me?" She pats his thigh and I grit my teeth that she's touching him.
"Sure thing." He smiles at her, staring into those eyes for a moment too long before standing and heading to her loft.
"Don't you look cute?" I sit across from her, leaning my elbows onto the table. "Nice and rested. Probably not much to do with such a boring dullard, huh?"
"Grant," she whispers, then sighs and stands, walking over to me but staying far enough away to consider herself safe. "Please don't. Not tonight. I didn't know you were coming, and honestly I probably wouldn't be here right now if I knew you were. But it's Eric's last night here and we're trying..." She curses and sighs. "Just please, for once in your life, act like an adult and don't embarrass yourself."
I bark out a laugh. "You're such a confused little girl, Carter Dawn. I'm never embarrassed of myself. It's you that's embarrassed of me. But yet you still wrapped those pretty little lips around my cock so tight you deprived yourself of oxygen enough to think it's a good idea to move onto this guy."
"This guy is good to me," she hisses quietly, fury burning in those beautiful goddamned eyes. "He's nice. I trust him. And he cares about his future." Her jaw sets as she glares at me.
I laugh again. "I wasn't bad to you. I just wouldn't play your stupid game. I'm glad he cares about his future. I hope his 401k and pensions are nice and neat. I'm sure when you get married there'll be a prenup, because his future matters. Then you can move onto more pressing matters like getting rid of your pig so you can squirt out some kids for him. 'Cause I'm sure that's in his future. Fuck living in the moment, Carter Dawn," I belt out. "You were more fun when you took things day by day."
Her eyes gloss over and she lets out a growl, screaming a curse word or two then storming to the bathroom, slamming the door hard behind her.
"Hey, hey." Affton blows into the room. "What the hell is happening? Grant Fucking Matthews, why?" she snaps at me.
"Why what?" I mutter, sickness filling my gut. Carter was in tears. I move around Affton and head down the hall. Rolling my eyes, I lean against the door frame and gently knock, clearing my throat. "Carter," I softly call her name.
"Please just go away, Grant," she whispers, then I hear a sniffle and I bang my forehead against the molding.
"Uh, no." I clear my throat again. My palms are starting to sweat. "I can't do that. Can you open the door please?" I glance down the hall; no one's coming yet.
"Grant, please." I hear her blow her nose. "Please go home."
"Open the door and I'll go home." I rub my forehead, feeling completely confused right about now. I care she's in tears because even if I'm not her friend, she's still mine and I made her cry.
The door swings open and eyes blotted with black makeup meet mine, the tip of her nose is red and where I assumed would be fury burning in those eyes, it's just pain. And sadness.
"Happy?" she whispers, "You got your point across. Please don't ruin tonight any more than you have."
I step inside the bathroom and kick the door shut. Grabbing her face, I kiss her forehead, completely miserable. No ounce of happiness in me for making her cry.
"Baby, I'm a wolf. Don't listen to me." I pull her against my chest and wrap my arms around her. "I'm sorry, okay? Don't cry over assholes. I'm gonna go home now." I grab her face and step back, softly rubbing my thumbs over her cheeks. "If he breaks your heart, I'll beat his ass." I smirk, hating those words just came from me. But she's going to move on. And I'm not going to change.
Her face twists and her hands moves to mine, pushing them off her. She shakes her head as the tears start again. "He won't. He's not a wolf," her pained tone whispers out.
He's not a wolf. That's why he's not good enough for her. But he's also not an asshole, and that's why he is.
"Exactly." I force a grin. "Stay away from wolves." I reach back for the door handle. This expression could bring me to my knees and I need to get the fuck out of this house.
I don't say anything to Tommy or Affton as I walk out the door. My heart's hammering my entire ride home. Alcohol used to kill anxiety. Then it became Carter. Now all I got is empty space and memories. I gotta stay true to myself. I can't change just because she wants me to. It's not even for the better. How does monogamy make me a better man? It doesn't. It limits my future.
This is my new life. Alone, un-showered, and three...maybe four weeks into a long distance relationship with a really nice guy. Or has it been five weeks? Shit, I've lost track of time. Everything's blurred together since Grant used his claws to shred my heart. I'm sitting here on a video call with Eric, my fingers resting on a man's name tattooed on my arm. That man being the reason my heart is still lying on the floor in pieces, but yet I'm pasting on a happy smile that fools everyone around me.
I'm miserable. But I'll get over it. At least that's what my brother told me. I called him a few days ago. I needed someone to talk to, but the minute he answered I didn't have the stomach to tell him the details. So all that came out was 'it's over' in a pained whisper because my throat was so tight I could barely talk. I'm sure my little brother doesn't want to hear about the details of my love failures. What twenty-one year old guy would?
"I'll be in town next week." Eric smiles and I nod. He's so nice. So, so nice. He treats me well, says the right things. He's the epitome of the perfect boyfriend and I truly believe that given enough time I could probably fall in love with him.
"That's exciting. I miss you." The correct words roll off my tongue and I glance out the window, watching Tommy play with the goats and Tink. I can't bring myself to leave the house. I barely leave my loft over fear that I'll run into Grant.
"I miss you too, Carter." He sighs and I know I need to end this call. It's been a month but Eric is dead set on us being able to see each other more than once a month.
Me? I'm okay with this arrangement. For now, at least. He didn't question the night of his first trip here when Grant ruined everything. I played it off as a stomach bug and instead of being mad that I ruined whatever plans we had, he drove the half hour to the store to get all the ingredients he needed for his grandma's famous chicken noodle soup and doted on me hand and foot until he flew out the next day. He didn't even complain when he had to buy a last minute plane ticket because Grant suddenly couldn't fly him out as it was planned.
Like I said. He's a good guy.
"Me too." My fingers trace the tattoo on my arm, a habit I've adapted over the last month and most days I don't even realize how much I do it until Affton's around and stops me. "I have to get back to work." I smile at him and notice the look on his face fall a bit. "I'm sorry." I scrunch my nose, giggling. "I can call later?"
"Yeah, absolutely." He smiles and ends the call and I groan, lying back on my bed
.
I'm not depressed. I can do this. I can move on from Grant Matthews because...well because I don't have a choice. He made it perfectly clear he didn't want me like that. I was a warm hole for him, that's all. I have a kickass job, an awesome loft, and a best friend others would die to have. I fucking hate living here, though. Because everywhere I turn once I leave my personal space reminds me of him.
But I'll be fine.
I head to my kitchen and glance in the fridge. I haven't been to the store in a week so all my healthy munchies are gone. I could devour that jar of peanut butter right about now, but I'm trying to watch it. I can't let myself go, not with Eric. He's never mentioned anything about the whole weight thing, but he's fit, good looking, and runs with a crowd that resembles that lifestyle. Plus he posts gym selfies on the daily. I don't want to embarrass him. It was different with Grant. It actually never made sense to me, because if anything, Grant's in better shape than Eric is, but Grant was very verbal about loving every curve on my body. He made me feel like I was enough. He made me feel sexy. Not that Eric doesn't. Well he hasn't yet. He's said I'm beautiful, but he hasn't commented on liking my body, or complimented my outfits like Grant used to. But in Eric's defense, we don't see each other in person.
Trudging down the steps, I try to sneak into the kitchen without anyone hearing me. I haven't talked much to Affton about what happened. I think she's happy I'm with Eric but I see the way she looks at me. Like when we're deep into work, focused on shit for the new line and trying to keep a few of the other smaller lines up and running...when she thinks I'm focused but I'm just sitting there daydreaming. She's watching me with pity in her eyes.
"Holy shit, she emerges." Tommy chuckles and my eyes fly to him, sitting at the table.
"Shouldn't you be at work?" I head straight for the fridge, praying there's carrots or something. And a fuck ton of ranch dressing.