Old Habits Die Hard

chap. 7

"Go back to sleep, Con. I'll call you in the morning," I say before blowing him a kiss and hanging up.

I tap my fingers on my phone, unsure of what to do next. I planned on having at least an hour long conversation with Connor, but now here I am with nothing to do and it's only 8pm. I look at my phone and decide to do what Ron would definitely advise against doing.

Text Greyson.

'hey so i had that interview you set up for me today...can we talk?'

His response is almost immediate. 'i assumed you'd want to. nightcap?'

It's weird because we're both adults now and can drink casually in the middle of the week when all I can ever remember is us getting drunk together in his room at Scarsdale. 'sure, anywhere in particular?'

'there's a hotel with a great bar right next to my apartment building.'

'sounds good. text me the address.'

* * *

I step out of my cab, taken aback at first by the size of the hotel in front of me. I look to the right and see an even bigger apartment building, presumably the one Greyson lives in. It's pretty fucking massive, not to mention it looks quite expensive.

I think it's safe to say Greyson is doing pretty well. That must be one popular book. Still itching to know what it is, but I guess I'll have to settle without it.

I walk inside the hotel and notice the bar up to the left. I make my way towards it and notice Greyson sitting up at the bar. As I get closer, I see him swirling the glass with clear liquid inside of it.

I take the seat next to him, placing my bag in the seat next to me and looking over at Greyson. "Hey stranger," He says, looking up at me with a smile. All these years later and that smile hasn't changed, and neither has the way it makes me feel. God damn it.

"This is a really nice hotel. And your apartment next to it? Wow, Grey. You're doing really well," I say.

"It's mostly Taylor," He says shyly, but I can tell he's definitely making a lot of money. "Speaking of, if you do decide to stay in New York, I'm sure she would love to meet you."

His words make me uneasy as he talks so casually about it. Maybe our last conversation gave him a different impression that it did to me. I left it heartbroken and confused and he left it thinking we are besties who can talk to each freely about our exes. "She knows about me?" I don't know why I ask the question because Connor knows about Greyson. "I mean, sorry, she obviously does. Connor knows about you. I just, she wants to meet me?"

He laughs at my nervousness. "She knows how important you were in my life."

I guess that to Greyson and Taylor, me and Greyson's story ended fine, but to me and Connor, it didn't. Connor has had to see all the hurt Grey caused me, while to Taylor, I'm just a blip in his past that helped him with his dad's abuse.

The smell of his drink reaches me. Bacardi, same as his dad. Same drink all these years later. "Still drinking cheap rum, huh? I guess some things don't change," I say looking down at his glass. His dad, somewhat of a raging alcoholic, abuser and drug dealer, would drink Bacardi. I knew this from when we went to confront his dad back in our junior year of high school.

"Some habits are harder to break than others," He tells me, looking straight into my eyes. He used to be my habit, we used to be each other's. And now? "Order something, Pete's the best bartender in the city."

An old guy in his 70s appears with a smile. "No need for the flattery. Hard to get pouring rum into a glass wrong," He teases Grey, bringing a smile to both of our faces. "What can I get you, darling?"