The Dating Experiment by Briar Prescott

8

Jamie

“Boo!”

I nearly drop my phone and have to do some sort of a butterfingered juggler’s act to catch it before it smashes into the sidewalk.

I glare at the snickering Grayson.

“Scare a guy into an early grave, why don’t you?”

“Hey, you were the one with your nose glued to your phone. I called your name twice, and you didn’t pay me any notice.”

I stuff the phone back into my pocket.

“Sorry.”

He shrugs, sits down next to me, and nudges me with his shoulder. “Good practice back there. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you skate so fast.”

Gray and I are both part of a rec league hockey team. I missed our last practice since I was in Chicago. And now I’m skating out the frustration that has been festering inside me this whole week.

“I missed the ice,” I say with a shrug. It sounds better than the truth. Your fucking brother is doing my head in, so I was trying to skate away from my thoughts.

Gray cocks his head to the side and looks at me with a frown.

“What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

Gray waves his hand in my direction.

“What’s with the subdued attitude? Where are the jokes? If you’re not careful, you’ll start to sound like Connor.” He nudges me with his shoulder. “Don’t tell me my brother is finally rubbing off on you?”

I nearly choke at the insinuation of anybody rubbing anything, and then I proceed to stare at my shoes to hide my flaming cheeks.

“Nobody’s doing any rubbing,” I mutter. I toy with the Velcro of the pocket of my gym bag. “Speaking of your brother, is he okay?”

Gray purses his lips. “In general or…?”

I rub my hand through the hair at the back of my neck.

“He’s being weird.”

“You’re going to have to elaborate on that. Weird is Con’s natural state.”

My head snaps up, and my eyebrows rise to my hairline.

“It is?” I can’t help the skepticism in my tone. Connor Quinn, in my experience, is the most aggressively normal person in the world. Bordering on boring, to be honest. In the three years I’ve known him, Chicago is the first time I’ve seen him act as if he wasn’t bound to some strict moral code and just let go.

And I want more. I want to yank him out of the confines he’s set for himself and help him relax.

I can feel Gray’s eyes on me. “You of all people should know you have to look underneath the surface with Con. That clammed-up businessman routine is a mask. Granted, he wears it religiously and twenty-four seven, so it’s difficult to look beyond that, but… Let’s just say Con has his reasons.”

“Reasons to act as if he has a stick permanently lodged up his ass?” I grumble. I’m being unfair, but I can’t help myself.

Because this past week, he’s been getting worse. Connor has always been head over heels in love with the idea of rules, but we used to talk. I didn’t pay any attention to it before. It was so ingrained into my routine. Get up. Get dressed. Go to work. Talk to Connor. And it wasn’t just limited to the morning chat.

Before The Great Silence descended, I didn’t even realize how much the two of us really talked.

And I know what I’ve repeatedly said about wanting to tape his mouth shut and murder him, but now that he’s limited all our conversations to just giving me short, to-the-point orders and nothing else, all the while being almost painfully polite—well, I find that I’m missing the old Connor with his biting remarks and sarcasm.

Now he treats me like I’m any other employee in the building.

I hate it.

“Who has a stick shoved up his ass?”

I turn my head to see Gray’s boyfriend amble toward us. Kai drops down on the bench next to Gray and gives him a smacking kiss on the lips.

“Hey, handsome,” he says. “How was practice?”

“Great.” Gray smiles like his day just got a million times better. I turn my gaze away. Excessive happiness does not jibe with my current mood.

“So?” Kai asks as he settles in. “What did Con do this time?”

“Nothing,” I mutter, which is kind of true.

What would I even complain about? Yo, your brother-in-law isn’t making enough acerbic remarks. Fix him. Fix him right now!

“Jamie here thinks Con is being weird,” Gray informs his boyfriend.

Kai considers the words for a second.

“He has been kind of mellow lately,” Kai says. “Which is weird by Con’s standards, if we’re being honest.”

That makes my head shoot up.

“Mellow? Connor? Connor Quinn?”

The guy shrugs like he hasn’t just dropped a bomb.

“Uh-huh. Past few weeks already.” He looks at Gray as if to confirm the timeline.

Gray nods.

“There have been eyewitness accounts of him smiling,” he says thoughtfully. “I figured work was going really well. Has there been something celebration-worthy?”

I shake my head.

“Business as usual.”

“Huh. He has been glued to his phone lately.” Gray’s eyes widen as he glances at Kai. “You think he might be seeing somebody?”

I go back to staring at my shoes. No wonder Connor looked so startled at that playground. An uncomfortable heaviness settles in the bottom of my belly. This is not okay. I don’t care if Connor is seeing somebody. More power to him. And to the poor person who has to deal with him. After what I witnessed in Chicago, I’m inclined to think it’s Bradbury. They deserve each other.

Kai looks thoughtful. “Maybe?”

After a few moments of consideration, Gray shrugs and says, “I guess we’ll find out eventually if that’s the case.”

My curiosity gets the better of me. Surely if anything is going on with Bradbury, Gray and Kai would know?

“I’ve never seen Connor with a date.” I try to sound as casual as possible. Not sure if I’m pulling it off.

“I’m pretty sure there was somebody when he was away in college, but I was about ten, so I don’t remember it all that well, and we didn’t exactly have a heart-to-heart about it. After that, I’ve never seen him with anybody.” Gray stares into the distance for a moment. “It’d be nice if he found somebody.”

Kai hums his agreement.

“Maybe he doesn’t want to. Not everybody dreams of domestic bliss, you know?” I grumble.

They both send me an almost identical raised-brow look.

“Sure,” Gray says slowly. “And that’s why I’m not going to be one of those assholes who’ll try to fix him up with everyone I know or badger him about falling in love day in and day out. I’m just saying that if he’s happy, I’m all for it. God knows he deserves some happiness.”

I sigh. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—It’s been a long day.”

“Want to come have dinner with us?” Kai offers. “Relax and kick back for the evening. We’re going to that new Irish pub that opened near my workshop.”

I’m about to say yes, but then my phone vibrates in my hand. Just the sight of Seb’s name makes my heart rate pick up. My bad mood is banished somewhere on the outskirts of my mind. It’s not gone. This thing with Connor still hovers somewhere in my mind, but it’s overshadowed by Seb for the moment.

“Jamie?” I look up from my phone, startled because as the good friend I am, I’ve kind of immediately forgotten Gray and Kai are still here.

“Rain check?” I ask. “I’ve got this thing.”

This thing where I go home to chat with Seb and forget Connor even exists.

“Sure. But bailing on us now means drinks are on you the next time.” Gray smiles.

“Deal.”

I grab my gym bag and wave my goodbye, fingers already moving over the screen.

Seb: Hey. Can we play a round?

J: Always.

Seb: Thanks. I need to get my mind off this week, and you get the dubious honor of being my distraction.

J: I’m one hundred percent fine with that.

J: Did something happen?

Seb: I did something stupid that I’d rather forget as soon as possible.

J: Been there. We can form a club.

Seb: The fuck kind of a word is fozy???

J: An English one?

J: It means spongy.

Seb: You’re making it up.

J: WWF won’t let you play words that don’t exist.

Seb: Okay. Deep breaths. I want to make it clear that I’m not accusing you of anything. But I do want to ask you something.

Seb: Did you or did you not cheat?

J: Define cheating.

Seb: Not using your own brain to come up with a word to play.

J: Oh! Well, in that case we’re cool. My brain was definitely involved in the process.

Seb: And?

J: And… also the feature where you just string random letters together until you hit jackpot.

Seb: I’m deleting this game.

J: You’re such a sore loser.

Seb: It’s the decided lack of practice.

J: Feast your eyes on this!

*image attached*

Seb: Thank you? Also, what the hell is it?

J: It’s art.

Seb: It’s the word “pussy” written in neon lights.

J: I know. What a powerful statement!

Seb: I can usually tell if you’re joking or not, but this time I’m a hundred percent lost.

J: I’m trying to blend in. My friend invited me to a gallery opening. The other people seem to be really into this. There’s this guy who’s been staring at the neon pussy for at least twenty minutes.

Seb: Have you ever considered this might be one of those the-emperor-doesn’t-have-any-clothes situations?

J: Good point. Let’s test it out.

J: Reporting back. I yelled, “People, this sucks.”

J: The security kicked me out.

Seb: You uncultured heathen.

J: I made you something.

Seb: You did?

J: My conscience has been tormenting the whole week about those cheating allegations you laid on me, so I’ve been trying to come up with a way to make it up to you. And then after the gallery, I got really inspired. So here.

*Image attached*

J: It’s my penis.

Seb:…

J: You’re speechless. It’s okay. Take your time to really feast your eyeballs on this magnificent work of art in all its glory.

Seb: You spelled out the word “penis” with onions.

J: Well, to a commoner it might look that way. But to a fellow person of sophisticated tastes, it’s clear that I’ve commissioned a sublime piece of art for you. It has multiple layers. It’s big and impressive. Also, if you cut into the penis, it’ll make you cry, so it’s very realistic. What more could you possibly want?

Seb: Am I supposed to hang it on my wall?

J: Nail it to the floor. I did my best, but even superglue couldn’t hold this many onions on a piece of cardboard. Those commercials where they tape dudes to the ceiling by the soles of their shoes are lying.

Seb: Somebody should let Loctite know.

Seb: Also, in the interest of clarity. Earlier you said it was a picture of your penis?

J: And it is! I made it, ergo, it’s mine.

Seb: I sort of feel that by insinuating this is a photo of your penis, you’ve created false expectations.

J: Did I? Okay. Yeah. You’re right. My mistake. I mean, since I gifted it to you, it’s now YOUR penis. Sorry for the confusion. Enjoy your penis.

Seb: Good morning!

J: Oh God! The cheerfulness. The awake vibes. That’s a no from me. Come back at a more reasonable hour.

Seb: You’re grumpy in the morning.

J: I’m normal in the morning. Right now, however, it’s still the middle of the night. Now go away.

Seb: May I remind you that you told me to check if you were up?

J: You just keep making everything worse.

Seb: Up, up, up.

J: No. You’re doing it all wrong. You’re supposed to buy me off by promising me something good.

Seb: Should I bribe you with my penis?

J: Well, you got my attention, at least. And one specific part of me is up. You should keep talking. Let’s see if the rest follows.

Seb: It just so happens that I have this lovely, commissioned piece of art promised to me…

J: And you lost me. I’ll have you know that at this hour, the only way you could get my interest is with a real dick pic.

Seb: The sacrifices I make for you.

*Image attached*

J: Umm… What the hell is this?

Seb: It’s a dick pic.

J: It’s a pic, sure, but there’s no dick. It’s just… black cloth?

Seb: There absolutely is a dick. It’s just in camouflage.

J: So, it’s a… Where’s Waldo, The Phallic Edition?

Seb: That just sounds wrong on every level.

Seb: How was your evening? Did the family dinner go well? I haven’t heard from you at all today.

J: It was fine.

Seb: Just fine?

J: Fantastic. My sister got engaged.

Seb: Do you not like her fiancé?

J: What? No. He’s very nice. He’s kind of perfect for her.

Seb: And yet you don’t sound that happy.

J: I don’t sound anything. You can’t hear my tone in writing.

Seb: Not true. I can hear yours just fine. Why are you in a bad mood?

J: God? Is that you?

Seb: You can’t joke your way out of everything.

J: Wanna bet?

Seb: No.

Seb: J? You still there?

J: How do you know I’m in a bad mood?

Seb: It radiates through the screen.

J: Are you spying on me? Are there cameras?

Seb: One in the bookshelf, one in the lamp and I’ve hacked into your laptop, too.

J: My wife and kids will be so disturbed.

J: That was a joke.

J: I don’t have a wife or kids.

J: I wouldn’t mind a husband one day.

J: That was not a proposal, by the way.

Seb: Siri, how do you cancel an engagement ring order?

J: Damn, you work fast.

Seb: When you know, you know.