2. Chapter 2
I pace back and forth across Jasper’s apartment, stopping occasionally to watch his chest for the rise and fall, making sure he’s still breathing.
I know I’m being a little dramatic, but he hit his head. Concussions can be a serious thing. I see him shift out of the corner of my eye. He’s been asleep for about an hour and a half. According to Dr. Google, I am supposed to wake him up every two hours. And I should really do what Dr. Google says.
“Olly, if you continue to pace back and forth in my living room, you’re going to make me vomit. You need to stop moving. My head is throbbing.”
“Oh shit, I read you might have a headache. Let me get you something for the pain.” I don’t wait for a response, just head into the bathroom and check out the medicine cabinet where I saw a bottle of pain medicine earlier. Yes, I may have snooped when I was using the restroom.
“Olly.” I jump, almost dropping the bottle. “I thought we were supposed to stay off of Dr. Google,” he says of the running joke.
“It was my only option. I don’t know of any doctors I can call and ask.” Jasper sways on his feet and I reach out to steady him. “What are you doing up? You should be relaxing. Plus, you could’ve fallen.”
“I’m a big boy, Olly, and I need to take a piss.”
“Oh, right, of course,” I say, then just stand there awkwardly.
“Do you maybe want to move, Olly?” He inches closer. “I mean, unless it’s your kink and you wanna watch.”
I practically choke on my tongue. “What? No, that’s not my kink. I don’t have a kink… I don’t think.” Jasper chuckles.
“To me, it sounds like you haven’t tried enough.”
“Yeah.” I give an awkward laugh. I can’t believe we are having a conversation about my kinks…. or lack thereof.
“Hey, Olly, you gonna move?”
“Shit. Of course.” I suck in my gut and slide past him. “I’ll grab you a glass of water to take these pills with while you take care of business.” My eyes widen in horror at the words tumbling out of my mouth. Oh, my God, this is all sorts of awkwardness. What the fuck?
I head into the kitchen, trying to compose myself as I grab a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and set it with the medicine next to the couch. Last night, I’d tried to convince him to take the bed while I would sleep on the couch. It’s a studio apartment. I can see him from anywhere. But he refused. Something about me working and standing all day. It sounded like a groggy mumble, and it was late, so I didn’ t argue.
The canvas in the corner of the room catches my eye, much like it has all evening. I make my way over, finally giving in. It’s stunning. The colors are muted, almost like they are fading away, mixing with the black and gray. The painting is of a man standing in a puddle laughing, but in the reflection is the same man with tears cascading down his cheeks, almost as if he is creating the pool beneath his feet. I hear the door open as Jasper comes out of the bathroom, his jeans slung low on his hips, feet bare, and the shirt he’s wearing sits just above his waistline, showing off a sliver of skin. My breath hitches in my throat and I swallow thickly. He eyes me wearily.
For months, I’ve had a crush on Jasper that I’ve kept tamped down. I may not be the kinda guy Jasper wants, but I can be his friend. We all need more friends in our lives. And I guess, maybe, I could use a friend too.
“Jaxon called to check in on you while you were sleeping. I told him you would call him later.”
Jasper rolls his eyes. “What is with these people?” he mutters. It’s almost as if he’s never had a group of friends before. He does not talk a lot about his time in the foster care system, but from what he has said, it doesn’t sound like it was all that great. He probably didn’t have a lot of friends and that makes my heart break. Just as it would for anyone. Just keep telling yourself that.
“This is really beautiful,” I say, gesturing to the painting.
Jasper clears his throat, clearly not comfortable with the recognition.
“How long did it take you to paint?” I ask, hoping to get a peek inside Jasper’s world.
“Not long. ”
“Yeah, okay, got it.” I turn to walk away. Of course, he’s not going to tell me anything real.
“When everything gets bottled up inside of me, I paint. Sometimes to the point of not realizing how much time has passed. This one took me a night.”
I stare back at the painting in awe. “Does it help?”
“I would like to think so.”
“You’re really talented,” I say, afraid to say too much and risk scaring him away.
He gives me a half-hearted grunt. “I don’t know why I just told you that; must be the head injury,” he mumbles, quickly walking away. And… too late.
“Are you hungry? Do you want me to make you something to eat?”
“Look, Olly, you don’t have to stay here and cook me food. I’m fine.”
“Jasper, you are not fine. You fainted and possibly hit your head. Obviously, your body is trying to tell you something. You should pay attention to it.”
He cocks his head. “Why are you like this, Olly?”
I take a step back. The words feel like a slap. “What do you mean, why am I like this? Because this is who I am.” My tone has a hint of anger.
He winces. “Sorry, that came out wrong. I don’t mean it in a bad way. We’re friends, right? But you don’t really know me, so why would you leave The Diner in the middle of the dinner rush just to check on me and take a day off so you can stay with me?”
“I care about my friends. I don’t want to see them hurt or sad. As you can probably tell, I don’t have a lot, but I’m okay with that, because the ones I do have I care about deeply. ”
My heart jumps at the admission and the possibility of just showing my hand. I quickly change the subject. “Let me make you something to eat. Please, sit down.”
“Oh, telling me what to do in my own home, are we?”
“That’s not what I…” The corners of Jasper’s lips tick up, and I can see the smirk. “Jasper!”
“I doubt I have any food here but have at it,” he says, sitting down at the table.
“While you were sleeping, I went through the refrigerator and threw away anything spoiled. I saw some slices of cheese and the bread doesn’t look like it has mold on it. I could make grilled cheese sandwiches.”
“Whatever you make, Olly, I’m sure it’ll be delicious.”
“Pfft, it’s just grilled cheese. Anyone can make it.”
“But will anyone spend over an hour picking out the best seasonings to use on a simple grilled cheese sandwich?”
Knowing that I already scavenged through his cupboards looking for seasoning, I roll my eyes, a blush covering my cheeks.
I get to work taking out a pan and placing it on the stove. Jasper hisses at the loud bang.
“Shit, sorry. Do you want some soup to go with it, too? I mean, what’s a grilled cheese sandwich without tomato soup, am I right?”
Rubbing his temples, he nods. “Sure, Olly. That sounds good.” I grab a pan and this time, quietly set it on the stove. I take out a can of tomato soup that I saw earlier when I was digging for spices.
Grilled cheese isn’t that hard to make. Unless you’re not paying attention and burn it. I put the soup on the stove, waiting for it to warm up, and grab two pieces of bread, slathering them with butter and sprinkling on the different seasonings I found in the cupboard.
I can feel Jasper’s eyes on me. It’s a feeling I’ve come to know well. At first I thought it was creepy, but now, his eyes on me feel like comfort.
“Was it always a dream of yours to run The Diner?”
It’s interesting he brings that up because I’ve been bouncing around the idea of my own dreams. “Yes and no. I like cooking, but I enjoy baking more. The Diner is a great place with a wonderful atmosphere. My employees are great.”
He rolls his eyes. “That doesn’t really answer my question.” I shrug because I don’t know how to answer.
“Do you ever even take a day off?”
“No, in fact, this is the first day off I’ve taken in three years, besides leaving early on family dinner nights. I work every day, and if I’m not cooking, then I’m doing bookkeeping work.”
“You know… for someone who gives me shit for not slowing down, you’re just as bad.”
“Yes, but I’m not jumping out of a perfectly good airplane,” I say. Oh, that fight was a big one.
“No, you’re not. You’re working yourself to the bone, instead of feeling the rush of life by jumping out of a perfectly good airplane.”
“See, that’s where we differ. You call it a rush. I call it a terrible idea.”
Jasper gets up and goes to the fridge. He still seems unsteady on his feet, but I stay back, hovering—unless he needs me. I take in his slumped shoulders, seeing the weight of what has to be worry resting there. He looks tired and worn out. Even after the sleep he got, I can still see circles under his eyes .
Jasper pulls out a beer. I look at him. “Really? Maybe a beer isn’t the best thing to be drinking right now. How about some water?”
“Water… it’s soooo boring,” he complains, but puts the beer back, anyway.
“I could have gotten that for you. You’re supposed to be lying down.”
“Olly, I have been lying down all day. You know the paramedic only said I should have somebody with me for 24 hours.”
“No, at a minimum, 24 hours. I looked it up.” I know this man didn’t just roll his eyes again. “It’s best to be on the safe side, so I’m just gonna stay one more night.” I concentrate on the grilled cheese sandwiches, flipping them until they’re golden brown.
“Fine,” Jasper says. “Just for one more night.” His mouth ticks up.
I think he’s actually enjoying this.