The Other Wesley Ch.8

GREYSON

I think I'm beginning to see why my asshole brother kept Xavi as a "best friend" all this time. Apart from being there to stroke his ego, the dude is as fragile as he looks. It's almost annoying watching him cry on the floor like a toddler.

I almost didn't want to intrude, but I'm not about to let Ryan use Xavi as a punching bag in our mother's house.

"What the fuck, Greyson?" Ryan rasps, touching his nose. He moves to stand and I clench my fist, ready to go again, but he's smarter than that. He knows he can't take me in a real fight.

"You know the rules, baby brother. No fighting in this house," I say, my voice steady and cold. "And most definitely not because of a woman."

He grinds his jaw and walks over to Xavi, who has turned the shade of a tomato, frantically wiping his eyes. Ryan reaches down, his tone shifting back to that manipulative, soft voice I've always found funny.

"Need a hand?"

"No... I'm... I'm good," Xavi stutters.

"Shit, I hit you too hard..."

"No, no. I totally deserved that, Ryan. The tears, they're..." He laughs shakily as he comes to his feet, doing his best to avoid my eyes. "It's just... my glasses."

I can't even say I'm speechless because I'm not. I'm just disgusted. Xavi was all talkative bravado with me, but in the presence of Ryan, even after receiving a punch, he's stuttering like a pathetic fool. It makes me want to hit them both for good measure.

"Fuck, I'm really sorry, dude, but you made me really angry and I just... I lost it," Ryan says to Xavi, his thumb almost tenderly inspecting the bruise he just put there.

"You're not going to introduce us properly, brother?" I interrupt, leaning back against the wall.

"I think you've already done that!" Ryan snaps, finally looking at me with nothing but venom in his eyes.

"Yes, but wouldn't it be better if it came from your mouth? The same mouth that's been telling everyone we're 'estranged'?"

Xavi visibly flinches at that.

Ryan ignores me, turning his focus back to Xavi. "I'll have the maids prepare something for you, okay? It's just... God, I'm so sorry. I'll make it up to you I promise. Delancy... you saw her. You provoked her and now everything is a mess. Not that I blame you, but..."

He stops then, as if noticing for the first time that his friend's eyes are bloodshot and strained. "Where in God's name are your glasses? You know you shouldn't be without them."

Xavi gives him a look. "I was without them during our entire flight. You didn't notice?"

Ryan actually flinches, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He doesn't have an answer for that. He spent seventeen hours staring at his phone or thinking about a woman who is currently being screwed by a billionaire, and he didn't even notice his best friend was partially blind the whole time.

"It's okay." Xavi moves toward him, touching his arm. "You're okay, though?"

He turns towards me, not exactly meeting my eyes. "You didn't have to hit him. It was just a misunderstanding."

I raise a brow at that.

"Delancy didn't hit you?" He continues toward Ryan, doting lamb that he is.

Ryan's jaw tightens. "She's dead set on marrying that man!"

"That man is your boss and my friend, baby brother!" I call out.

"Mind your fucking business!" Ryan yells back.

"Everything will work out fine, I'm sure. I'm here for you, Ryan," Xavi cuts in.

Of course you are.

"I know." Ryan squeezes his arm, then looks at me. "Can I have a moment with that ass--my brother?"

"Sure," Xavi replies almost too quickly. "Just point me to my room and I'll get ready for dinner."

"Sure, man. The room next to mine," Ryan says, clearly desperate to end the conversation.

Xavi turns and starts heading for the stairs, his skinny shoulders hunched. I catch his eye for a split second as he passes, and he looks away quickly, like he's scared of me.

What a beautiful fool.

The moment his footsteps fade, Ryan rounds on me like a viper, gripping my shirt by the neck.

"Stay away from him, homo."

"Why do you care?" I ask.

"I know what you're doing. I saw you!"

"Do you really?" I grin, feeling the familiar itch of adrenaline.

"I'm serious, Greyson. Stay away from Xavi. He's not a toy for you to play with."

"But he's a toy for you to lead on?"

"You bloody asshole. He's my friend. You can't keep hating me for what happened years ago."

I laugh then, slowly peeling his fingers off my shirt one by one.

"You think this is about the past, Ryan? You think I've spent years nursing a grudge over your little betrayal?" I lean in until our noses are almost touching, close enough to smell the sweat and desperation on him. One of the few times I appreciate the fact that we're the same height.

"Stay away from him, or you won't like what I'll do to do" he grits.

"Oh but I won't. That way, we're even."

His eyes blaze and he laughs stepping back. ""You know what? Do whatever the fuck you want. You think I give a shit? Xavi is not that stupid to fall for a loser like you."

"But he fell for you, didn't he?"

The silence that follows is exquisite. Ryan's jaw works, but no words come out.

"You might want to zip up." I gesture to his jeans, which are sagging down his torso.

He curses under his breath, fumbling with it and bounding up the stairs like the absolute asshole that he is.

Yes, run along, baby brother.

I'll make you pay, and it'll be worth every bit of the effort. It'll be so much fun taking something from him. And who better than his devoted, loyal lapdog?

The thought of Xavi brings a smirk to my face. He's such a pure delusional golden flower. Too naive and far too ashamed of what he is to ever truly be himself.

The kid needs a backbone, a taste of real danger, and a hell of a lot more self-confidence.

I remember the way he trembled when I touched him earlier. I highly doubt he even realized he was arching toward me, his body seeking the very thing his mind was trying to reject.

Maybe there's a bit of a demon hiding behind all that angelic, freckled facade. It makes me want to break him. I want to peel back those layers of "best friend" loyalty until there's nothing left but what he actually wants. I'll make him mine, if only to hurt Ryan.

~~

"You really gonna make me wait out here, Robb?" I call out, slamming the hood of the Ford Mustang I just finished working on, the heavy thud of metal echoing through the townhouse driveway, mingled with the sound of barking dogs.

I managed to drop in the replacement engine I brought over from my garage, and my hands are covered in the proof.

"Is that ye I see from my window? Ye're actually fixin' ma car? But it's late, GreyGrey. How d'ye even see whit ye're doing?"

Robb's Scottish accented voice comes through the phone currently pressed between my shoulder and ear.

I look up at the second story and wave at him.

"I'm full of surprises, old man. Besides, you forgot I've been working on cars since I was old enough to spell my own name."

"Aye. What cant ye do, Greyson Wesley?" he chuckles from the window of his townhouse. I cant see him properly, just the light coming from his phone.

"You gonna let me in or... is the fiancée keeping you worked up?" I joke, walking towards the front door, wiping my greasy palms on a rag. The lights are blazing inside from here, and I can see shadows moving quickly behind the curtains.

"Delancy's coming to open the door. Give me a sec to shower," Robb says.

The second the call ends, the door bursts open as if she's been standing there with her hand on the knob the entire time.

"Greyson!"

Her eyes are as wide as saucers. She immediately looks past me, her gaze darting to the dark driveway.

"Expecting someone?" I ask, walking past her into the spacious room. "I know you've been watching me work on that car through the window. Like my ass so much?"

"What are you doing here?" She asks, pulling that transparent robe together with so much force I'm almost scared her poor ribs will crack.

"Atleast offer me a glass of whiskey to cleanse my pallet. I'm sure robb has some in stock?" I say, leaning back on the sofa and making myself at home.

"You know what I mean, Greyson." She looks around to make sure we're alone, then stops right in front of me, teeth gritted. "Why are you here right after I just left your place? You're not planning to tell Robb about what you saw, are you?"

"Am I?"

She sighs, her expression softening as she tries to read me. "God, I hardly know when you're being serious or not. Damn your poker face."

"Get me that whisky then we'll talk."

She bristles but obliges nonetheless. "Anything else?"

"Yes... don't spit in it."

She sighs and walks away, coming back with a bottle of whisky and a glass. She pours it and hands it to me.

"You didn't spit in it, hopefully?"

Delancy's eyes narrow. "Poison would have been a better choice."

I chuckle, taking a sip of the rich liquid. I gesture toward the couch in front of me, and she sits with an irritated groan.

"Well?"

I set the glass on the small table in front of me and lean back. "That stuff you did today?"

"What? Sleeping with Ryan? Are you jealous it wasnt you?"

"I hardly care about your conquests, Delancy. Or whatever shit you have going on with my brother. I'm talking about Xavi. The skinny guy you slapped? Don't ever try that again."

Her eyes widen, and she throws her hands back in disbelief. "Seriously? That's what you got all settled in to say? Xavi?"

"I'm not joking."

"He deserved it, didn't you see? He insulted me!"

I watch her, unmoving. She sighs, crossing her legs and giving me that seductive look of hers. "Fine. Does it help that I was thinking about you the whole time Ryan fucked me?"

I just stare at her. Beautiful Delancy Donovan with the shiny brunette hair and perky tits. "And Did you cum while thinking of me?"

"I would've, if you hadn't barged in with that boy..."

"You really are a manipulative bitch, aren't you, princess?" The words come out harsher than I expected.

She opens her mouth to say something, probably to curse me to hell or to beg. I can't tell, because the sudden sound of footsteps stops her short.

"Don't tell him anything," she mouths.

"Don't fornicate with your ex before your wedding," I mouth back, watching her face pale.

"Greyson, my best man!" Robb grins, walking down the stairs with his customized cane. After he got into an accident for drunk driving two years back, he hasn't been able to walk without it.

"I see ye made my guest welcome." He nods with approval at the drink and at Delancy, who quickly flies over to him and slips her arms around him, planting a long kiss on his mouth.

Yeah. Because that's gonna fix anything.

"But of course, baby. Greyson is, after all, a great friend of yours." She purrs.

"That he is," Robb agrees, looking at me with a fond smile. Poor man.

"Alright, run along now." He says, smacking her ass playfully but she's not letting go. She whispers something against his ear, dragging her finger down his bulging belly.

"Later Mo ghràdh. I need some alone time with Greygrey."

"But baby..." she whines.

"I said run along," he says sternly.

I smile, watching her attempts to stop me from talking to Robb fail. I wouldn't have minded if she stayed in the room. I'd actually enjoy the show. She leaves but not before shooting me a warning glare.

"She's a sweet lass, is she not?" Robb laughs. He grabs the bottle of whisky. "Makin' me feel like I'm in my youth again."

"I'm very happy for you."

He gives me a look I know too well. "Ever thought o' settlin' down? Get a wife, or a boyfriend, whichever works for ye?"

"I'm very comfortable with my singleness."

"Ahh, but ye're not gettin' any younger. I used to say the same when I was yer age. I was a looker, too. Strong-boned, and the women used to flock around me."

"They flock around you now," I point out.

"Ahh, for ma money, as ye know." He sighs, sitting next to me. He's not wrong. Robb isn't necessarily an ugly man, but his addiction to alcohol has left him looking like a worn-out lawn mower. It brings me to my next question.

"Are you happy, though? Like, really happy with yourself?"

He freezes mid-drink. "I'm gettin' married to a bonnie lassie. Of course I'm happy, Greyson."

"You know she's among the category of people that love you for your money."

He hesitates, then leans back against the couch, rubbing his belly through the robe. He looks up the stairs, then back at me with an expression I don't quite understand. "Your brother resigned."

"As he should," I say. He shrugs.

"I was plannin' to make him managin' director, but oh well. I don't blame him. I saw a beautiful woman and I just had to have her, Greyson. I'm no fool. I just hope he finds it in his heart to forgive me."

I doubt he will.

"I know you're not a fool Robb."

He's just a lonely man in love. I did say I wasn't going to intrude, but a certain pretty boy with golden hair and biteable lips said I would be a terrible friend if I didn't try. One way or another, this wedding wouldn't happen. Either Delancy poisons him before the week runs out, after making him sign his life away, or I find a way to break the spell.

"Let's go to a strip club," I say suddenly.

Robb frowns. "The bachelor party is not until next week."

"So? As long as the wedding hasn't happened, every day is a bachelor party."

He chuckles, moving to stand, but I hold him down by his chubby thigh. "Where are you going?"

"The lass. It wouldn't be fair if we go without her."

I roll my eyes. "Not a chance, old man. Delancy is not coming with us."