For Us

I don’t know what time Norman woke me up, but he drove me back to Stella’s. The sun was already up, but she also wasn’t up waiting. She was passed out in her room. Only Ash greeted me.

Norman kissed the top of my head. “Get some sleep, babe. We’ve got a boat ride at two, and you’re not getting out of this shit.”

I sighed and started pulling off my boots. “Yeah, yeah. Got it. I’ll see ya later, Normy.”

He gave me a half-hearted smile in return, almost hesitant even. I don’t think he was gonna say anything until I cocked an eyebrow at him. “Just . . . let him talk?”

“That was the plan,” I admitted, and I gave him this weird grimace-smile type thing that I wasn’t even sure of myself. “I’ll see ya later. Where are we meeting again?”

“Sean’s, I think,” he said, and he rubbed the back of my head. “Fuck, I don’t know.”

“Well, you’re really helpful.”

He smirked. “Hey. That’s what you’re here for. To keep me in line, or some boring shit like that.”

I frowned. “Huh. And all this time, I thought it was you keeping me in line. Guess I’ll have to, like, go to therapy to sort this shit out. How can I live being the one keeping you in line?”

“Admitting you have a problem is always the first step.”
***
Stella made me lunch in bed. Called it her “special remedy” for sadness. Honestly, I was a bit surprised she didn’t have an opinion on the matter she was getting out, too. Fuck, even Norman was like, “Roll with it, you dirty slut.”

And Stella had nothing? She knew. I knew she knew. Why else would she make me breakfast in bed? If I had to guess, Sean told her what happened.

So why wasn’t she Gibbs slapping me?

Her “lunch in bed” was fantastic. Four slices of cheese pizza, the Mason jar cup Sean had gotten me full of Mountain Dew, a random bag of doughnut holes for dessert.

She was literally the best friend I could ask for.

“What time are we meeting the guys?” I asked, almost absentmindedly, while she did tricks with Ash, throwing beef jerky her way when she got something right. Ash was smart, so there was a lot of beef jerky given to her.

“Two, at Sean’s place,” she said without even flinching, without even hesitating to think. “I think he wants us to get there a bit early, though.”

I took a deep breath and finished off the slice of frozen pizza Stella had made. She tried to act like she did it all by scratch, but when I got to the kitchen to refill my drink, the DiGiorno box wasn’t exactly hidden in the trash can.

I smiled and shook my head, but I didn’t say anything. I rinsed my plate off, put it away, and walked back into the living room. Ash had laid her head in Stella’s lap now, her big brown eyes closed while Stella stroked the top of her head.

Stella always liked to pretend she didn’t give two fucks about anything, but I knew pretty damn well that wasn’t true. All the shit she had done for me growing up, all she had protected me from—all she still protected me from . . . people don’t protect people they don’t really care about. Not like that.

“How are you, Stell?”

She let out a breath. “What do you mean? I’m fine.”

“I don’t know, you seem stressed,” I disagreed, and I plopped down onto the couch. “You’ve been able to distract yourself with everyone here, but I don’t really think you’re fine.”

“I mean, I’m tired, and I work all the fucking time,” she sighed. “But, I’m really okay, beautiful. This is the dream.”

“Is it worth it?” I asked, but I made sure to keep my tone light. I didn’t at all wanna sound like I was being judgmental or too “parent” like. Man, did I hate it when she told me that.

“Stop being such a mom, Elli.”

Worst thing she had ever said to me, by far. I hated that I was the way I was, so scared of everything and so . . . reserved. Sean, Norman, Stella . . . they were all living proof that living carefree and fearless lives were the best.

Fearless. Fuck, I was so scared. The thought of seeing Sean again wrecked me pretty hard inside. I didn’t know if I would try and hide from him or kiss him. Either was equally plausible.

I wanted to kiss him. Hell, I was ready to pick up where things left off. The reality of the situation was, Norman was kinda right. It wasn’t really a good situation either way, but if I were him, I would’ve done the same thing. I’d like to say I would’ve told him, but fuck, I probably wouldn’t. Because when Sean was in my life, I had trouble remembering much else. Just him.

I had three people in my life that from the moment I met them, they were my best friends. Sean was one of those, but things changed with him almost immediately. He was fucking gorgeous as hell, and every time he came in the room, I forgot what I was saying, or tripped over the fucking air. I mean, he messed me up, and one night, sitting under the stars, talking about the future . . . I realized that I loved that motherfucker.

He wasn’t just my best friend anymore, and that never changed.

Yet I didn’t need to just kiss him. I needed to think rationally about all of this anyways. Sure, I wasn’t mad anymore, but shouldn’t I let him think I was? Make him prove to me that this wasn’t just some fling that would go away when I left New York? I couldn’t handle that.

He shouldn’t have to prove anything to me, but if this was gonna be long term, we had to take it slow and careful. We had to date like normal people, be reserved—get to know each other all over again and make sure this was the same. That we were the same.

The only way to do that was pretend I was mad at him, right?

I almost missed Stella’s response to my question. “Fuck yeah it is. Do you see all that cranberry juice? The booze? The fucking car?! This angel in my lap? It’s worth everything, Elli. I really wish you would move up here, too. Life would literally be perfect.”

“If I move up here, I’m fucking living here,” I informed her. “I am not living by myself. I’d probably never sleep, get addicted to meth, and somehow end up drowning in the bay.”

Stella smirked. “Not alone, sure, but I doubt you’d be here.”

“Most of the time I would,” I protested, and I smirked back at her. “Sean only gets me on the weekends, remember?”

She was as surprised as I felt when I first woke up. The nausea was gone. My clouded judgment was gone. All the useless pain and anger was gone, so I realized that I’d rather get the fuck over this stupid . . . nothing than lose Sean. He was too important to lose over something so unimportant.

“Damn straight,” she said, and she got this big grin that I always loved. Stella was one of those people who smiled a lot because she was just that fucking happy, but her smiles weren’t always “smiles.” A lot of times, they were smirks, or these arrogant grins that made you wanna slap the bitch.

I really don’t recommend that. This girl did that in high school after her boyfriend dumped her for Stella, and she had to quit cheerleading that year because she had a broken arm and broken ankle.

I think she had to go to rehab for close to a year. It was pretty bad. Complete reconstructive surgery on her ankle, pins in her arms . . . and the funniest part was, Stella didn’t even like the guy. She thought he was an obnoxious pig.

But, he didn’t listen. He broke up with the girl and ended up single.

“Stella, can I ask you something?”

“That was a dumb question,” she informed me. “You know damn well you can ask me anything, anytime.”

“Except Fight Night.”

“That’s different,” she pouted. “Fight Night is . . . it’s sacred, okay? Fuck! Speaking of Fight Night, there’s one this weekend. I gotta make sure those bitches at work know I’m not gonna be there Saturday, and sorry, El, but my place may be off limits.”

“Why not go to Sean’s?” I asked, and I laughed as she made a face. “He’s got a fucking big screen.”

She huffed. “My home is small and cozy whereas his is just too big. Besides, the satellite people didn’t install his dish right, so he doesn’t get the right channels.”

This brought me back to my fear . . . did Sean and Stell have something? Even a one night fucking stand, did they? I mean, I wanted to ask, but if they hadn’t, Stella would flip. If they had, Stella would flip. So, really, it was a lose-lose situation.

“How long has he been in New York?”

“Two months, I think,” she said, and her eyebrows furrowed. “He came by Gotham a month or so ago, and we just kinda ran into each other. He’s . . . still the same Sean he’s always been. Looks after me.”

I wasn’t entirely convinced, but she was right about that. Sean had taken over the big brother role for her, though he swore she was his younger brother. Actually, now that I thought about it, he made it quite clear that he didn’t have a little sister. Just a little brother. I never really questioned where I came into the equation, but it made sense.

I wasn’t his little sister, little brother. Incest is kinda frowned upon.

Stella surprised me when she stood up, barely remembering to get Ash’s head out of her lap before she did. “It’s, like, one thirty. Let’s go ahead and head over there. We should probably make sure Norman’s actually awake, too. If that fucker causes us to be late, I’ll probably gut him.”

“If you do that, Daryl Dixon can’t be on the Walking Dead,” I reminded her. “Just, like, lock him up. Handcuff the motherfucker to your bed or something.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh! That reminds me! I’ve got something for you!”

When she ran back to her bedroom, I knew this wasn’t gonna end well. So, while she was getting whatever it was she was getting, I ran out the front door and down the stairs, out of the apartment.

Her Stingray was as gorgeous as ever, glistening in the sun. I swear, I think she washed the fucking thing every day because it never had a speck of dirt on it.

Stella wasn’t far behind me, and she had this huge smirk on her face as she unlocked the door. “You know, running away only made it worse. Now Sean gets to see them, too.”

I climbed into the car and covered my face with my hands. “Please, for fuck’s sake. Promise me that’s not any kind of sex toy or lingerie.”

I heard her rummaging through the blue shiny gift bag, and whatever was inside, she tossed into my lap.

Oh. No big deal. Just a pair of fuzzy blue handcuffs.

Stella Strange, the only person who could get me sex cuffs without ending up handcuffed and stranded in some random place.