Page 127 of Three Grumpy Groomsmen

Harrison offered to pay me a salary to stay in South Carolina. I know he had good intention, but for fuck’s sake, does he even hear himself sometimes? I don’t want to give up my career and I don’t want to bepaidto be his boyfriend.

I want to be his boyfriend because I’m in love with him and I want him to understand me. It shocked me he didn’t get that.

I’m also a little stunned that Ivy has no immediate plans to return to California.

She said there was nothing for her here and whether she meant it to sound the way it did or not, that shit hurt.

What also hurts is that not one of the three of them has reached out to me since I got on that airplane and came home.

Home.

It doesn’t have quite the same feeling now that my three favorite people are on the other side of the country.

Yes, three.

I don’t know when or how it happened, but in a mere ten days me, Ivy, Harrison, and Ford became a foursome. A fully functioning, love all around poly unit.

I’ve always loved Ivy. For a year, I’ve been fighting the truth that I’m in love with Harrison too.

Then seeing how Ford takes care of Ivy and enjoying his incredibly loyal and deep friendship with Harrison and finding a connection with him myself, well, getting them out of my system was never going to happen.

But here I am and they’re…there.

I sigh and rub my temples. “Put a pin in the dinner party,” I tell Toby, heading for the front door. I need fresh air and a coffee. “Ivy is still in Honeysuckle Harbor.”

“What’s Honeysuckle Harbor, a lingerie shop? Sex club? Your girl getting a little sexed up for you? I love a good role play session.” Toby drops his arm and adjusts his bow tie.

He’s the only one who wears a suit daily. Given our many meetings, brainstorming, and bantering, most of the six writers on the show dress like Ross from Friends. Bulky sweaters, loose pants, and sneakers. Toby always looks like he’s a salesman on the floor at Saks.

I’m actually wearing old gray joggers and a Star Wars T-shirt that has seen better days. Which was a poor choice because it just reminds me of Harrison and Ford back in South Carolina.

And Ivy.

God, we left things on a fucking terrible note.

We were all frustrated and not on the same page. At all.

“It’s neither. It’s a town in South Carolina. It’s where Brad bought the house for Ivy.”

And Harrison and Ford are from and live.

And now presumably Ivy, since she wants to launch a new business there.

I push the front door open harder than I need to and warm air hits me in the face. At least today is overcast. The gloom suits my mood.

“Why on earth is she still there?” Toby makes a face. “It sounds sogauche.”

And he sounds like my grandmother, but I don’t bother to point that out.

“It’s actually a very cool place. The people there aren’t fake.”

“Hmm.” He doesn’t sound convinced.

I don’t really want to have this conversation. “Are you parked down here?” I ask him as he walks down the sidewalk next to me. I’d really prefer to be alone right now.

“No, I’m going to the coffee shop with you. I heard you tell Andrew that’s where you were going and I need a double espresso, pronto.”

“I’m actually going straight home,” I say, instantly changing my mind. I’m not up for either shallow banter or a work bitch session with Toby. “That’s what I meant. I got a new coffee maker from Sur La Table.”

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