Adam tilts his head, which means he’s about to ask something personal. “How are… Have you been seeing anyone since you broke up with Natalie?”
“She broke up with me.”
“Either way…”
“Nah,” Elliot says.
“You want to?”
“I don’t know.” Elliot thinks about going out on dates and getting to know another person and being awkward around them before you settle into the whole relationship thing and… nah. Then again, his apartment is really quiet. And he thinks a lot about his apartment being less quiet. He doesn’t know how to make it less quiet, because it’s not like he’s going to put another person in it from one day to the next.
“You miss her?” Adam asks.
“No. Yes. No. I… I miss having someone around.”
“We can find you someone… to have around.” Adam wiggles his eyebrows. “The entire world is at your feet, Moo. You’re a hot guy in your twenties. You’re a millionaire. This shouldn’t be hard.”
“I… I don’t know. I fucked things up with Natalie. It was my fault.”
“Because you didn’t want to get married yet?” Adam asks.
Elliot told him the whole story. He sort of had to explain what happened. The thing is, it wasn’t so much about getting married now. It was more about… “Because I didn’t want to get married to her.” Elliot scrunches up his nose. “Do you think there’s like… you know, in romcoms and shit… there’s always, like, that one person that’s exactly right for you. But that’s bullshit, right?”
“Yeah, probably bullshit. They’re trying to scare us.”
“But don’t you think Lou is the one?” Elliot asks. “How did you know you wanted to marry her?”
See, he would not even be asking this if he was sober. Sober Elliot would be too polite to ask questions that personal.
“Moo, I know that you know that relationships are hard fucking work. And with Lou… I guess she wanted to do the work.”
“And I guess I didn’t want to do the work with Natalie?”
“It’s not always just about doing the work, though,” Adam says. He shrugs and gulps down the rest of his drink. “Sometimes it’s about other stuff. You can’t make yourself love someone more just because you want to make it work.”
“Is this a weird conversation to have?” Elliot asks.
“No, dude, it’s not. You guys were together for a while and then you suddenly weren’t.”
“I tried to call her after and she didn’t pick up.”
“Can’t make her want to do the work either,” Adam says. “Here…” He takes Elliot’s empty glass. “I’ll get us another one.”
Before Elliot can protest, Adam’s gone. He returns remarkably quickly, handing Elliot another drink. “There were cute girls at the bar.”
“Good for them.”
“Okay, not in the mood for that. I get it. But right now you’re moping and that’s sad. Moo. You–”
They’re interrupted by Moby, who’s come to drag Elliot back on the dance floor and Elliot goes, because if he sits next to Adam, he’ll mope and it’s too early to go home. He has to be a good captain. Adam follows them, with great reluctance, hovering at the edge of the dance floor, slowly shifting his weight from one leg to the other.
Unsurprisingly, Adam is the first one to beg off, followed by Moby and his girlfriend, then the rest of the guys head home one by one, some on their own, some with a girl in tow. Elliot heads out of the club with them and hails a cab. He miraculously manages to stay awake until they’re at his apartment building and he somehow makes it into the elevator and somehow makes it through the door, tugs his shoes off and then faceplants into bed.
He’s not as wasted as he feared he would be.
Maybe he should set an alarm. He’ll get up before noon, so he won’t waste his entire day off.
When he fiddles with his phone to set an alarm for a reasonable time, he finds a text from Blake. Two, actually. The first one says, I think dancing is one of your duties as their captain, the second one says, try to have fun for like a second I dare you.
It makes Elliot smile.
It also makes Elliot call him. For some reason. He can’t explain it to himself.
“You’re so lucky that I’m in Seattle,” Blake says.
“Sailors tomorrow?” Elliot asks. It doesn’t come out steady.
“Yeah. Did you just get home?”
“Mmm, I made it. Finally.”
Blake coughs. Hiding a laugh. What an ass. “You’re an old man.”
“So what?”
“No, I mean, I get it, I’d choose a pub over a club at all times,” Blake says. “Did you have fun for a second, though?”
“No.” Elliot sighs. “Someone touched my butt, Blake.”
“Well, I’m sure that person had a great time.”
“You’re not funny.”
“That was the worst chirp ever,” Blake says. “Go to bed, Elliot. But drink a glass of water first.”
“No.”
“Seriously. You’ll thank me tomorrow morning.”
“S’already tomorrow.”
“Maybe where you are.”
Elliot groans. “Blake…”
“Yeah?”
“I…” Elliot squints and tries to remember what he was going to say. “Did I wake you up?”
“No… Seattle, remember?”
“Yeah. Right. I’m gonna cook for you when you’re back in town.”
Blake laughs and it’s soft and it makes a knot unfurl somewhere in Elliot’s stomach. “Okay.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t wanna call you but I wanted to.”
“Makes perfect sense,” Blake says and there’s some amusement in there. “You’re all good, Elliot. Don’t forget to drink water.”
“Water sucks,” Elliot mumbles.
“You’re about to fall asleep right where you are.”
“Bed.”
“Yeah, I hope that’s where you are.”
“Mmmm.”
“Good night, Elliot.”
“Hm.”
Elliot barely notices when the line goes dead, doesn’t look up when his phone gives one last chime.
In the morning, after half an hour of groaning, he reads the text
