I hated that my mind immediately went there, but the way he spoke made me wonder if part of Elijah’s job involved sleeping with his female clients. He didn’t seem like the type of guy who’d do that—especially since he’d given me shit about supposedly sleeping my way through college the other day—but what did I know about the pressures of his career? Honestly, he wouldn’t be the first guy I’d known who’d used his dick to get ahead in the world. A guy who’d lived in my dorm my freshman year made a killing on OnlyFans and PornHub with videos of him fucking his girlfriend and his wife. The world truly worked in mysterious ways.
“So what’s the big emergency?” I asked, not wanting to dwell too long on the idea of Elijah fucking rich old ladies in exchange for them working with him.
“The guy who’s overseeing my accounts while I’m on sabbatical lost a shipment.” He scrubbed his palm across his creased forehead. “How the fuck does someone lose a 1965 Porsche 365C?”
“I don’t know much about cars,” I admitted, “but I’m guessing this isn’t your run-of-the-mill Porsche?”
“Please.” He rolled his deep blue eyes in annoyance.
And when had I started noticing the color of his eyes?
“Any asshole can go out buy himself a pre-owned Porsche 911 for twenty grand,” he continued. “I’m talking one of only twenty cars like it left in the world.”
I made a mental note not to tell him that I drove a Porsche 911. At least I’d paid full price for it—back when I could still afford such luxuries. “So why’s your assistant hounding you if this guy misplaced it?”
“Because my boss is hounding her. He didn’t like the idea of me taking a sabbatical, but his wife convinced him it would be good for business. Now he’s taking my absence out on everyone else.”
“So what you’re telling me is that even though you gave me shit the other week about not being here for the right reasons, you’re actually here to get publicity for your company.” I wasn’t necessarily pissed, just surprised by his hypocrisy. I’d thought better of him than that.
The muscles in Elijah’s jaw flexed at the accusation. “I’m here because I want to find love. My boss only approved my time off because he wants new clients. Honestly, I was coming on the show regardless of his support.”
“You were seriously going to quit your job to be here?” Frankly, I didn’t understand why anyone would do that. How they could do it. The only reason I was able to be here was because it was summer vacation and I didn’t have to be back at school for another ten weeks. When I’d moved back home on crutches, I might not have been able to play football anymore, but the high school was keen to let me coach it.
Elijah nodded brusquely.
“Why?” I probed.
“What do you mean, why? I told you; I want to find love.”
“Right. But why this?” I circled my finger in the air as if to encompass the entire crazy world that surrounded us.
All the wind seemed to go out of Elijah’s sails as his shoulders slumped in on themselves. “Honestly, I’ve tried all the usual ways—apps, blind dates, set ups, hook ups—and nothing seems to work. I thought I’d finally found the one until I caught him fucking my client in my bed. Turns out I wasn’t the only one wooing the old bastard, but at least I was doing it honestly.”
Wait, what?!
“Dude. You’re gay?” I blurted before realizing how loud my voice was. I quickly scanned the bus to make sure no one had heard me. Thankfully, the guy sitting closest to us was focused more intently on his playlist than the conversation taking place less than four feet away. Everyone else on the bus was focused on their own discussions, paying us no mind. I dropped my voice to a low whisper and repeated the question. “You’re gay?”
“I’m bisexual,” Elijah said, his voice bold and unwavering.
I could tell from the defiant lift of his chin that he was waiting for me to react negatively. To try and shame him in some way. Not that I would. Frankly, I admired him. Not all of us could be the people we wanted to be without worrying about what the rest of the world would think of us. It sounded like something you’d see on a poster in a girl’s college dorm room, but Elijah was living his truth, and for that, I envied him.
It also scared the hell out of me.
“Does Allie know?” I asked eventually. Then, “Wait; do the producers know?”
Suddenly, I was very worried for my friend. For the repercussions of his declaration. I’d never been what you would call a huge fan of Happily Ever After before coming on the show, but I’d done my homework. Each season the producers picked one or two guys they hung out to dry for the sake of ratings. Elijah’s sexuality would make him an easy target for such treatment, the show’s more conservative fans undoubtedly willing to rake him over the coals for it.
“Yes,” Elijah nodded brusquely. “Look, I’m under no illusions about how the producers could use my sexuality against me. It’s why I told Allie during the first cocktail party.” He chuckled lightly, then shook his head. “When you asked me afterward if I’d dropped any bombshells on her, I nearly lost it.”
I chuckled along with him, thinking back to that night. It seemed like ages ago, even though in reality it had only been a couple of weeks. “You looked so guilty, but you recovered quickly. I nearly talked myself into thinking I’d imagined it.”
Elijah’s voice dipped low, and his serious gaze found mine. “I’m not ashamed of who I am.”
“I didn’t say you were.”
“But you think I’m crazy.” It wasn’t a question.
“Honestly, I think we’re all a little crazy,” I replied. “Who in their right mind willingly puts themselves through this shit?”
As if to punctuate my words, we pulled up to our destination, a large warehouse whose exterior was splattered with paint. Standing in front of a rack full of gear that included chest plates, helmets, and shin guards, Allie waited for us with a pleased smirk on her lips.
Next to me, Elijah groaned. “Ugh. I fucking hate paintball.”
5
Oliver
Elijah stood at the stove, his back to me as he stirred the ingredients for tonight’s meal. Despite having grown up in my dad’s restaurant, my cooking skills left a lot to be desired. I could fry eggs, bacon, and hashbrowns with the best of them, and my grill game was on point, but anything beyond breakfast or steaks was touch and go. Thankfully, Elijah was a goddamn genius in the kitchen, so he’d taken over cooking for Brett, Matty, himself, and me. The other guys fended for themselves in groups or individually. Unfortunately, he’d recruited me as his sous chef. When our meals weren’t being catered, my job was to dice onions, garlic, and any other ingredient he happened to push across the marble island toward me. I’d only cut myself twice this week, so things were definitely looking up.
He twisted around to address me over his shoulder. “Can you bring me those peppers?”
I grabbed the red, yellow, and green peppers he’d had me chop earlier, circling the island to meet him at the stove.