11. Gray

CHAPTER 11

Gray

I double checked with Griff that three extra people wouldn't drive Eleanor over the edge, and he assured me that it would not. When we arrived, a large shout ran up around the living room.

“Who’s the new boy toy, Gray?”

“OooOoOOO, Gray’s got a fella!”

“Hey, isn’t that the pilot from Chicago?”

I tightened my grip on Sunny’s hand and gave the entire room my arched brow. That shut up enough people, and Baz laughed.

“That is some look, man. We should have you come to our investors’ meetings to keep those billionaire assholes in line.”

The room laughed, but then welcomed both Sunny and Baz with warm greetings and offers of adult beverages.

“We were just about to start the card games,” Arthur, Griff’s dad informed us.

Baz rubbed his hands together. “I love a good card game.”

We were quickly ushered out of our coats, which was good since the full house had gotten a little warm with all the bodies. Drinks were pushed into our hands, and we joined everyone in the living room.

I wasn’t sure how so many people fit into one house, but I appreciated that Eleanor always made room for everyone. Hors d’oeuvres were passed around, and there were so many people that we split into two groups. One group was assigned to the living room to play Nertz, the other group was sent to the adjoining dining room to play Bullshit. Both games got loud, quick.

Baz was even more gregarious than Sunny, which I found amusing. He made friends rapid-fire style, and his flirting seemed to indicate that he swung multiple ways. He attracted more than a few hungry looks, and I was glad that I’d already claimed Sunny in front of these hooligans because I didn’t want to have to tell people to fuck off.

Not that I minded telling people to fuck off; it was one of my favorite pastimes.

Our group, the one playing Bullshit, was dazzled by Baz’s upcoming Paris adventure. He regaled us with all the details—how he won the deal, how a coin flip helped him to decide that Paris—Sénart, actually—was the perfect location, and how long he thought it would take.

Amid all the busyness and eating—I wasn’t drinking since I was the designated driver—we had been there nearly an hour before I realized I’d barely heard a peep from Sunny. Unlike the rest of our table, he seemed unwilling to call Bullshit on the bluffers, but that didn’t exactly surprise me.

It also struck me that Baz had pretty much taken over the conversation. That wasn’t a bad thing—he wasn’t a bore and never talked over people. He was just interesting and naturally gregarious.

When I turned to check on Sunny, though, my stomach bottomed out. He appeared to be mildly enjoying himself, except his smile was . . . wrong. His hands were clasped in his lap, tight enough that I could see the whites of his knuckles, and he hadn’t touched his drink.

Logan jumped up and shouted “Nertz!” and the living room went wild. Sunny grimaced, then quickly plastered on that awful fucking smile.

I hadn’t realized how packed the place had gotten—there were at least two dozen people between the dining and living room. This was a spacious house, and everybody had a chair, but I had already forgotten his reaction in the bakery.

Carefully, I wrapped my arm around his shoulders. He startled at the contact and pulled away.

“Let’s get out of here,” I whispered.

He turned to me; his eyes wide. “What? No, we haven't even had dinner yet.”

“That’s okay. Why don't we get into the truck and take a drive around town? I’ll show you what the place looks like at night.”

“Won't it offend Eleanor?”

“I'm not worried about that right now,” I said low and slow. “Here, take my keys. Go to the truck, and I’ll make our excuses.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed, and his eyes gleamed, like his emotions were so close to the edge that he might not have it in him to hold back. He nodded, and at the next break in conversation, stood up quietly and left.

Baz was in the middle of explaining to Griff why Musée d'Orsay was leagues better than the Louvre, so it took me a few minutes to subtly get his attention. When I finally had it, he looked at the empty seat beside me and raised an eyebrow.

Where’s Sunny? he mouthed.

I gestured to the front porch, and he followed me outside.

“What happened? Did Sunny drink too much? He really can’t hold his liquor at all,” he joked.

I shook my head. “No. It’s just this place is way too crowded for him.”

Baz frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you know how he hates being pinned in by so many people.”

Baz’s brows met in the middle. “What, like claustrophobia?”

Had Sunny never told him that crowds bothered him?

“Kinda. From what I can tell, it’s more that he gets overwhelmed by the noise and being surrounded by so many people. We were at the bakery the other day, and he froze when he realized how many people were in there.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It’s one of the reasons he’s leaving Chicago—too crowded.”

Baz was quiet for a moment. “I thought he was just talking about traffic, you know? Wanting a quieter life. I didn’t realize he had a problem with the crowds themselves.”

“Why? Is this thing with the crowds new?” I asked, sneaking a peek at Sunny, who was sitting in the truck with his eyes closed, his seat back reclined.

“Well . . .” Baz closed one eye, thinking intently. “When we were kids, big crowds always scared him. But I thought he’d grown out of it.” He looked into my eyes. “I wonder how long it’s been this bad.”

“Don’t you see each other often?” I asked, confused.

They seemed so close.

Baz shook his head. “Not as much as we’d like. He holds down the office in Chicago while I focus on international business development. We talk every day on the phone, FaceTime, text, all that, but . . . I hadn’t realized.”

“Honestly, I think if I hadn’t seen it myself, I doubt he would’ve offered up that information.”

Even though we’d known each other less than a week, I was starting to understand how deeply Sunny kept things hidden.

“So, he had what, a panic attack?”

I shook my head, though I couldn’t be certain. “I’m not sure it works that way. An attack sounds like something short-term, but this . . . this feels chronic. Maybe with your company growing so quickly, it got worse, but . . . I think it’s always been there.”

Baz was thoughtful. “That might explain why he bought that massive penthouse. Yes, he had the money, but maybe he felt like he needed that much space?”

“Do you think he might feel crowded in my house?” I asked, remembering that he hadn’t contradicted me when I guessed that his bedroom was as big as my house.

Baz shook his head quickly. “No, I’ve never seen him more relaxed. Come to think of it, I don’t know if I’ve ever seen him truly relaxed.”

We both went silent, contemplating what that meant.

Baz cursed under his breath. “Mom always called him Sunny, and I think he tried to live up to that for her—especially near the end, when we knew she wasn’t going to make it. I was in a fog at the time, all of us were, but even back then I knew he never wanted us to see him struggle. He tried to focus on the good memories. Dad appreciated that.” Baz’s mouth settled into a disgusted slant. “Of course he did. That made things easier for him.”

“But not for Sunny,” I said, sadness creeping into my voice.

“No. I’ve always wondered if my brother ever truly gave himself time to grieve.”

At that moment, Griff stepped out onto the porch. “Hey, guys. Y’all coming back in?” He glanced around. “Where’s Sunny?”

I pointed to the truck, where Sunny was still resting with his eyes closed.

“I think I’m gonna take him home. He’s not feeling well,” I said smoothly.

“Oh no, do you think it was the appetizers?”

I shook my head. “Probably just a migraine.”

I turned to Baz. “You can stay if you want. Christmas Falls has a great car service that can take you home later.”

“No, I came here to see Sunny.”

He turned to Griff. “I’m so sorry we have to leave early. Please tell Eleanor that we really appreciated the invite. I hope she won’t think we’re rude.”

Griff straightened and held out a hand. “She’ll be disappointed, but she gets migraines, too, so she’ll understand.” He looked inside the house and grimaced. “She will, however, disown me if I let you leave without giving you some food to take with you.”

Knowing it was easier to agree, I nodded. “That would be fantastic, Griff. Thanks.”

True to his word, Griff darted inside and returned with three grocery bags full of Tupperware.

“Griff, this is too much,” I said, taking the bags.

“Never too much for old friends. Tell Sunny we hope he feels better soon.”

“Thanks, man,” I said, giving him a one-armed hug.

Griff tilted his head at me. “You know, I think Sunny might just be a good influence on you.”

I shot him the bird—in a good-natured way, mind you—and he sent us a wave before returning to the chaos.

Baz followed me to the truck, climbing into the backseat with the grocery bags. Sunny slightly opened his eyes when I got in the driver’s seat.

“Did they think I was rude?”

“No. I fibbed a little and told them you had a migraine.”

“Sorry you had to lie for me.”

I gripped his hand. “I’m not. We haven’t talked about how much you want people to know.”

Baz leaned forward between the two front seats. “That’s not to say I don’t want to know what’s going on.”

Sunny turned his head to face his brother, looking slightly abashed. “You remember how I was as a kid?”

“Yeah, I was just telling Gray about it.”

“Well, that never really went away.”

Baz raised his brows. “When you’re feeling better, I’m gonna want to know why you didn’t tell me.”

“You travel the world for a living.” Sunny shrugged. “Figured you wouldn’t understand.”

“Just because I don’t have experience with it doesn’t mean I wouldn’t listen.”

“Alright. Sorry.”

Baz gripped his brother’s shoulder. “I’m not coming down on you, and I don’t need an apology, Sun. I’m just sorry this is happening. You have to know that I’ll always get you out of a bad situation.”

“I know.”

Sunny glanced at me. I smiled. “Me too.”

“Thank you,” he said, sounding tired. “Thank you both.”

“Let’s get you home and into bed.”

“Not in front of my brother, Gray.”

I laughed, and Baz stuck his fingers in his ears. “La la la la la.”

Something about this night made me even more determined to give Sunny back the things he’d lost when his mother died. There had to be some way to help him enjoy Christmas without the crowds.

As I made my way to the stop sign at the end of the street, it occurred to me I’d been avoiding the Christmas Falls crowds for years now. I probably knew better than most how to navigate the craziness.

Now to use that knowledge for good.