Something More | Randy

chapter seven | her

Well fuck. I liked him. 

'Liked him'. It sounded so childish, but there was no other way to describe it. After spending the entire night after our spa chat smiling stupidly into my pillow, unable to shake him from my thoughts, I just gave up and admitted it. I had a goddamned crush on Rye Beaumont. 

This didn't mean I was about to do anything stupid. I knew the price of that would not be worth satiating a fleeting desire born out of close friendship and sheer proximity. Rye was an objectively attractive guy, I knew for a fact I wasn't the first straight guy to bend a little around him. The difference in my case was, before anything else, Rye was my best friend in the world. There was no passing craze that would make me risk that friendship. 

So I let myself go in my imagination only, drifting off into dreams about kissing him and holding him. I let myself obsess over little details about his appearance; starting with the obvious ones like his muscled torso and sharp jawline, and eventually progressing into more obscure features like his knuckles and the balls of his feet. It was like falling down a Youtube rabbit hole- starting somewhere seemingly normal and ending up in a place where you suddenly need to delete your browsing history. 

What I did not let myself do, was show any of this to Rye. This turned out to be easier than I expected. Now that I had the outlet of my private fantasies, I didn't feel as tense around him. I could be the bro he needed me to be during the day, because at night I would have him the way I wanted in my subconscious.  

It was a good thing I did keep myself in check, because Kylie started showing up at the house again. A lot. 

Although Rye still claimed they weren't 'official', they sure acted like boyfriend and girlfriend. I would catch her in his clothes more than her own around the house. They watched Netflix and cooked dinners together- hardly fuck buddy behaviour. She got to know the rest of the boys and everyone- with the surprising exception of Brook- loved her. I began to get used to her being a part of his life. 

***

"Babe! I just realised our names rhyme!" 

Babe. That was a new one. My heart took the dull blow in stride, used to these little everyday heartbreaks by now. 

Rye looked at Kylie in bemusement as he replied, "What, Ryan and Kylie?" I snorted.

"No! Obviously I meant like Rye and Ky," she rolled her eyes and hit him playfully in the chest, "you're so annoying."

"Does anyone actually call you Ky?"

"They could."

"But do they?"

"Sometimes..." she siddled up closer to him, eyes flirty.

"No one calls you that, do they?" he grinned, pulling her against his body.

Their faces leaned in closer until they both suddenly remembered they weren't alone. They looked at me, expressions of sheepish guilt on their faces. 

"Don't stop on my account," I said blandly, picking up my bowl of soup, "I wanted to eat this in my room anyway."

Kylie giggled in a self-effacing way, but Rye just studied me, meeting my eyes. I kept my cool facade up, refusing to let him see the pain behind my irritation. I wondered if he was looking for a reaction from me, expecting me to be jealous. Did he want that? 

"What?" I challenged. Rye just shrugged in response. 

"Come out with us later, Fovvs," Rye invited, "we're going to the club again tonight with Kylie's friends."

"You're going clubbing again Ryan? Party animal you are." I sniped.

"It'll be fun!" Kylie grinned.

"I'll think about it." I grimaced, walking away knowing full well I wouldn't be saying no to an evening with him, even one spent in the club where this whole nightmare began. 

***

Third wheeling was a unique kind of torture, but I was addicted to him and couldn't stop. Over the next few weeks I spent an unhealthy amount of time with them. I must have been a masochist, because the experiences were generally uncomfortable. My heart panged with jealousy whenever one of Kylie's friends playfully referred to the two of them as 'Rylie'- a ship name that was, in my humble opinion, deeply inferior to 'Randy'. I awkwardly feigned disinterest whenever Kylie tried to set me up with one of her girlfriends. Despite all of these reasons and more that I should have distanced myself, I simply couldn't do it. Being around him in his state of excitement, happiness, and occasionally arousal- whenever things got heated in the club or cosy on the couch- it made all the awkwardness worth it.

Kylie and I had grown closer too, and she had begun to view me as her ally amongst our rowdy group. She didn't connect as easily with Mikey and Jack, and Brooklyn was still inexplicably cold towards her. I was her bridge to the band, good old Andy, the trusty BFF. 

She came to me one day on her own while Rye was in the shower. 

"Andy- can we talk? I want to ask you something about Rye?"

"Sure. What's up?"

My response was casual, but instinctively, my defences shot up. Had she caught on to me? Did she know I liked him? Shit. She knew.

Of course, she didn't. "Can you be honest with me? Is Rye kind of a player?"

"What do you mean? Did he do something" I questioned, genuinely confused. Had Rye shown interest in other girls around her?

"No, he didn't do anything. That's kind of the problem actually. Like, I'm okay with casual but it doesn't feel like that's what this is. We've spent so much time together. But he still doesn't show any interest in making anything official. I'm kind of confused and I wanted to know if this is something he does." She looked upset as she made her confession, obviously ashamed to have made herself so vulnerable. I knew the feeling.

"You still haven't known each other that long. He's probably just taking his time. Doesn't mean he's playing you." I pointed out.

"You're right, it doesn't," Kylie sighed. "I guess I just, for once, really like a guy. Could see myself falling for him actually. And I wish he'd just man up and call me his girlfriend."

I looked at her then, and tried to find sympathy for her. After all, like me, she was hurting because of Rye, because of him not giving enough of himself to her, as he wasn't to me. But the sympathy wouldn't come. 

Instead, I was filled with resentment. Because here was this girl, who had barely known him two months, complaining about not having Rye officially, when she had more of him than I would ever have. I, who knew him better than I knew myself. I had to sustain myself off small touches and looks, living constantly in a fantasy. She could hold him, kiss him, have him inside her. Yet she said it wasn't enough. 

She had more Rye Beaumont than she deserved. 

***

"Fuck sake, Finally." Brooklyn commented bluntly as Kylie finally left the house one day after spending it lounging in our living room with Rye.

"Bit harsh?" I noted. He had never warmed up to her. I had never figured out what his problem with her was. 

"I just reckon Rye can do better," Brooklyn said to justify himself.

I scoffed. "She's stunning, intelligent, and can actually put up with his antics. How much better are you expecting him to do? Ariana Grande?"

Brook just stared at me as if the answer was obvious. I shook my head at him for how much he venerated Rye. 

"I'm sure she's great, Andy. But she shouldn't be here with him, should she?"

"What? What do you mean?"

I was honestly not prepared for Brooklyn's response. When it came, my faithful snark abandoned me, leaving me, for once, speechless. 

"He should be with you, Andy."