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"You don't have to do that. I'm not a wreck."
"I want to. Come on, it's been a while."
"I don't know..."
"Up to you." Never did I think there'd be a time I called Greyson 'indefatigably cheerful', but here we are. "But I'm pretty sure Nolan wanted to take you out to O'Malley's, so you could avoid that."
"I'm in," I say immediately.
For whatever reason, Nolan's obsessed with that Irish hovel with horrible food and perpetually bickering though busty waitresses.
Greyson chuckles. "Great. See you at seven."
Sure enough, a few hours later, Nolan calls me up for a 'long-overdue-dinner at a premier establishment', which I have to, unfortunately, decline.
The rest of the day, I continue my fury of productivity. It keeps me from checking my phone too much, seeing as I know already what I'd find there: a grand total of nothing.
Once seven rolls around, I head to the restaurant.
Harley and Greyson are already there in the entry, both dressed to the nines and looking obnoxiously happy.
"Isn't this place cool?" Harley enthuses, her gesture to cavey surroundings making the low lights illuminate her silver dress and jewelry. "Oh, and hey there."
We give each other a light hug.
"How's Dakota doing?" I ask dutifully.
She chuckles. "You don't have to feign interest, you know. I know you and the other brothers are about as interested in kids as you are in starfish. Though I appreciate you asking - he's good. Starting to talk already."
I chuckle too. "Got me. You look great, though."
"Careful now," Greyson says lightly.
"Didn't mean it like that," I return easily.
Harley just grins, then flexes her bicep. "I've taken up this new yoga regimen."
"La Caverna," Greyson says, purposely a bit loud, smiling at the echo his voice makes. "Place is well-named."
"Let's see if the food is good too," Harley says, hooking her arm in his.
I let them go a bit ahead of me, watching them. They make it look so easy. Guess it is when you're with the right one.
Now, as for me and Kyra...
Not thinking about it.
"How are things with you?" Harley asks me after we sit down. "You enjoying being President?"
I shrug. "Not sure enjoying is the word."
"Babe." Greyson takes Harley's hand and squeezes it. "You don't enjoy being President - you bear it."
"Oh." She giggles. "My mistake."
"Should I even ask about the court case?" Greyson asks.
"Better you don't," I say, hands clenched on the edge of the table.
Another one of my fuck-ups. Hopefully not an irrevocable one, though.
Just then, the waitress comes, notepad at the ready, so we order. I'm about to order a bottle of wine when Greyson stops me. "We didn't want to tell anyone, but... Harley's expecting."
"Again?" Cue smile. "Congratulations, you two!"
Harley wrinkles her nose. "I know: again. Guess it'll be nice to get them over with."
She and Greyson crack up.
"It's fine," I tell the waitress, "I'll still take the wine."
I grin at Harley and Greyson. "More for me."
Once the waitress has left, Harley fixes me with a worried smile. "You OK? Greyson told me about..."
"I'm fine."
Greyson squeezes her shoulder lightly. "Told you, babe. Landon probably doesn't want to talk about it."
"What happened, though?" Harley asks, before her hand flies to her mouth. "Oh God, I'm so sorry. That just slipped out. Feel free to tell me to go to hell." A small smile. "Although I am curious."
"She has a kid," I say.
Then, seeing their expressions and realizing how it sounded, I clarify: "She has a kid that she didn't tell me about for weeks. And God only knows what else she's been hiding from me. The kid must have a father, so she probably has a husband or boyfriend in the picture, for all I know. She was just using me to get dirt on Storm Media."
"If she has a husband or boyfriend already, then she's a really shitty partner," Harley says quietly.
"Yeah. Well. Who knows? All I know is that she's been acting weird lately, and that's probably why."
"Fuck her," Greyson says, sipping his water. "You're probably right."
"Am I the only one who thinks maybe she really just has a kid and waited too long to tell you?" Harley wonders aloud.
As we look at her, she continues, "Don't shoot the messenger, but maybe she was just freaked about telling you she has a kid. Wasn't ready for you to meet them yet. It is a big deal."
"But then why not tell him that?" Greyson says reasonably.
"Exactly," I agree.
Harley shrugs. "I can't answer that one for you. But hasn't this whole... relationship been kind of messy from the start?"
"Sorry," she says, seeing my look, "Greyson might've filled me in on a few of the details."
"What?" Greyson says, under my glare. "Sorry, man, but we tell each other everything."
"I'd rather not talk about it," I say finally.
"Fair enough," Harley acquiesces.
The rest of the dinner is more pleasantries, chatting about the Coldplay concert in town next month that they snagged tickets for, how Dakota has a thing for throwing macaroni, how Nolan's new comedy routine is almost too controversial. My mind isn't really in it.
