It was a sweet gesture. That’s how they get you, these boys. They charm you with their perceived thoughtfulness even though I knew for a fact he ordered this bottle via an app on his phone from the liquor store two blocks down and only had to walk from the couch to the door thirty seconds before I arrived to accept the delivery. But I guess it’s the thought that counts. And the expense.

Graham popped the bottle carefully and poured three glasses as Reed slowly approached, his gaze jumping from Graham to me.

“You’re drinking?” Reed asked him.

He gave up drinking after that college bar fight, but sometimes I’d find an empty cabernet or Stella in the recycling when I was sneaking a midnight binge. They’d be hidden under a bottle of lemon-lime seltzer or jar of pickles, the same way I’d hide the chip wrappers and never bring it up. It’s better to keep things like this close to the vest until you figure out how to use them.

“Just on special occasions,” Graham said, taking a defiant sip. Reed seemed unconvinced. “It’s just a glass of champagne,” he continued. “It’s fine.”

That night, after Reed left, Graham and I continued celebrating with another bottle of champagne followed by some shower sex and kitchen counter sex and outdoor patio sex to consummate the move and make it all official, as if we hadn’t been fucking on every surface of the apartment this entire time.

I lay in bed, listening to Graham snore, louder and more congested from the drinking and the sodium-filled Chinese food dinner, and I had a hard time getting Reed’s face out of my head. The skeptical look he gave me when he saw my few belongings. The way it seemed like he was already convinced I didn’t belong. You just seem so familiar replayed over and over again.

My suitcases lay still on the bedroom floor, untouched since I got home. Graham decided the actual moving-in part was the least exciting thing to do on move-in day, so instead we just drank and ate and fucked. I’d become a master of slipping out of bed unnoticed and managed to do just that even after half a bottle of champagne.

I picked up the tote and rummaged around my underwear until I pulled out the envelope, still thick with all my cash. My entire life’s savings. All that was necessary to get out. I needed to put it somewhere Graham would never find it. While my underwear drawer was a good option, it seemed a little too risky for someone who had as many opinions about my lingerie as Graham did.