Grayson: An MM Friends To Lovers Romance

I still couldn’t believe I’d been such a lush the night prior, and not only that, I’d made a gigantic fool of myself in front of Henry, which shouldn’t have bothered me as much as it did.

For some reason I cared what he thought. But thankfully, another rampant ding pulled me from my pity party, and I prepared to gloat in all my glory, expecting Caroline to message me with sad emojis because she was utterly incapable of running the show without someone telling her what to do.

And Sven is about as useful as a bag of rocks.

Very pretty rocks, but I digress…

Only, when I opened my notifications, I saw it wasn’t my ill-fated co-workers who were messaging me with pleas to save them. It was my sister.

Honestly, I still don’t know which would have been worse.

I sighed indignantly, knowing it was best to respond to her.

Apologies, I was out and only just got back. What’s up?

Giselle tapped away quickly, sending me the eyeballs emoji.

And where were you at the tender hour of 9am on your day off?

A part of me debated lying to her, but I also knew better than to try and keep anything from my sister. She could smell a fib a mile away, even through text. So I shrugged, bit my lip and just let the cat out of the bag. It was better that way, at least then I could control the narrative.

If you must know, the martinis landed me on Henry’s couch last night.

I waited for the onslaught of her words, and sure enough, she fired them off without haste.

You what? I thought you had a ride… you said… wait, you didn’t…

I rolled my eyes.

Please, I’m not that easy, Giselle!

I texted her back. I did nothing of the sort, and Henry was a complete gentlemen. A perfect prince charming. Drove me home and put me up for the night.

I paused, wanting to say more, which was odd.

I never really felt the desire to spill all my secrets and feelings to my sister. Usually, I only gave her the bare minimum of information, but it seemed after Henry’s home cooked breakfast… and the close proximity against his door… I was feeling uncharacteristically off. Maybe I was still drunk.

Well, hopefully you won’t be too hungover to join Aaron and I for dinner tonight.

I fell back against the couch, the cushions squeaking. The memory of Henry’s soft couch cradling me threatened to erupt in my brain, but I pushed it away.

Now was not the time to grieve over such things.

Just you and Aaron? I asked, twisting my lips in suspicion.

Every Sunday, up until Mom had her surgery, rain or shine, we had family dinner. And even if I didn’t want to admit it, when I was living on my own, it was always nice to come home at least once a week and catch up with my sister, and devour my mom’s delectable desserts.

But those dinners were a thing of the past now, and my sister seemed to want to pick up the torch, which shouldn’t have bothered me, but…

Being over at Giselle’s was like stepping into the world I wanted, but knew I couldn’t have. And as much as I was proud of my sister for all she’d accomplished, and the life she and her groom-to-be had built, if my parents were in the room, I’d never hear the end of it.

The tiny little digs at my job, at my perpetual singleness, my perpetual failure to launch.

Mom and Dad are coming too, duh.

I leaned my head back on the couch cushion, debating how to answer. It wasn’t like I didn’t see enough of them already, but going over for dinner was a level of self-inflicted trauma I wasn’t sure I was up for at the moment.

My sister must have taken my pause for urgency, because she tapped out two texts in rapid succession.