Elevator Pitch (Hapless In Love #1)

56. Open Up

56

open up

Greyson

Manhattan, NY | March 11, 2024

Before everyone got up from dinner, I asked them to stay put so I could get a picture. Selah offered to take it for us, but I wanted her to be a part of it. This night wouldn’t have happened without her. I set up my tripod and took a photo of us all together. I snapped a few of everyone before they left and got some good shots of my parents too. I haven’t seen them look that happy since I was a kid. It really was a perfect night. There’s a few where I’m looking at her like a lovesick puppy that I didn’t want her to see. I’m still worried about scaring her away. More now than ever.

After the last of our guests leave, I ask her if she’ll stay the night with me on purpose this time. She agrees with no argument, which actually surprises me, I fully expected her to go back to her no sleepovers rule. She mentions that she needs to check on Peach and I suggest that she could start bringing her over here to hang at my place. She had concerns about her and Clifford not getting along, but he gets along with everybody. Plus, if he doesn’t, Peach will smack some sense into him, I’m sure. I got her to agree to a ‘trial run play date’ between the two of them soon and I’m looking forward to bringing them together. If they hit it off, that’s even more time we can spend together and Cliff will have a new friend.

When we lay on the couch later that night, I’m catching up on sports highlights while she lays beside me cackling every few minutes at her phone. Her feet are draped across my lap and I started to rub them absentmindedly. Once I realized it, I didn’t stop because she’s been stifling her moans. I love how domesticated this feels. I ask about the Fleetwood Mac tattoo on her left ankle, it’s a quote from the song Landslide . She tells me that was the first tattoo Daya did for her after they became friends last year.

Now I know the music behind her tattoos and need to listen to them together.

What is the overall story?

Hoping this gets me closer to figuring out the beautiful enigma that is Selah Bailey.

I remind myself of what I wanted to discuss tonight. My thoughts have been extremely heavy today and I am now considering going to therapy and it has a lot to do with the woman in front of me. If I am not willing to confront my past, my fear of failing another person will come true. I understand that now and I think I’m ready to do the right thing for myself this time.

I’m hesitant to ask her about her experience with therapy so far, but I’m not sure what to expect and I’m nervous. As shy as Selah is naturally, mental health is something she’s pretty open about. Of course, when I bring it up, she answers every question I have and even offers advice on what I should be looking for in a good therapist. She informs me she’s been in therapy for almost two years and was fortunate to have found her perfect therapist right away. She texts me a list of recommendations she got from Audrey when she moved to New York and lets me know that she’ll support me through this and that she’s proud of me for advocating for myself.

I told her earlier that I wouldn’t keep anything from her and I intend to keep that promise. I have a good reason to keep the love thoughts to myself for now, at least until I can learn more about how she’s feeling.

I take a deep breath and ready myself for this conversation.

“I told you some about my ex-wife, but I didn’t tell you about our divorce.”

“Grey, you don’t have to,” she says while shaking her head.

“We met our freshman year at NYU and dated all throughout college. I proposed a little while after graduation and we were married for three years. We weren’t the best communicators and poor communication is something that can’t be ignored. Though we really tried. I poured myself into work after many failed attempts of getting her to communicate with me. I soon prioritized my career over everything and things didn’t work out.

I had come home early from a trip to surprise her. Well, I walked in on her packing her bags and she wasn’t very happy with my surprise visit. She had planned to leave while I was out of town so she wouldn’t have to face me. She served me the papers on my birthday. She didn’t even remember what day it was. I missed her so badly after a week away and just wanted to see her, but she forgot. I came home and watched her leave.”

“I’m sorry, Greyson,” she says and places her hand in mine.

“I wanted to make it work and she didn’t. To this day, we haven’t really talked about everything that went wrong. I blamed myself and felt like if I failed my marriage, I could make up for it with SoulBlend . Like, if it wasn’t in the cards for me, I could help others.”

I pause and rub the back of my neck as I gather my thoughts .

“I haven’t celebrated my birthday for the past eight years. I haven’t spent it with anyone besides Cliff. Today, I woke up with you in my bed and I was so happy you stayed the night. I originally hoped I could spend the day alone with you.”

She frowns and averts her eyes. “I’m sorry I ruined your plans,” she whispers, her bottom lip wobbles as she sucks in a breath.

“Hey.” I say, and she looks up at me. “Today was the best fucking birthday I’ve had in a long time. All my favorite people were here, thanks to you.”

I lean in to kiss her forehead, then her nose. She giggles in response.

“C’mere.” I pat my lap urging her to climb on it. She lifts her dress as she straddles me and we lock eyes.

“What are you plotting?”

“Nothing,” she sings as her eyes dance over me. “Just thinking about how your tongue felt this morning.”

I raise my brows in response.

Fuck me.

“I’ve been dying to touch you all day. This fucking dress should be illegal,” I growl and grab her waist. “Can I properly thank you for my surprise?”

“I don’t know, can you?” she says in a mocking tone, wearing a playful smile.

“Alright, brat. My room n?—”

My words are halted when she climbs off my lap and unzips her dress revealing nothing underneath. The fabric melts from her body onto the floor as she heads straight to my room.

I get up and grab the dress, following behind and it’s very clear who’s running the show tonight.

I wonder if she’ll call me a good boy.

Happy Birthday to me.