Chapter 4
Dean
I looked at the building, feeling surprisingly hopeful about this whole thing. It was stupid, obviously, considering I didn’t even have a job yet. I had some savings—not much, but if I decided to make an impulsive financial decision like this, it could get me locked in, probably.
There was no point getting ahead of myself. I might not even get along with this person. Since Brooks was the one who found the guy—Benny, he’d called him—I figured it could be great or terrible. There was really no telling. Maybe it was all an elaborate prank. That felt on brand.
Stuffing my hands in my pockets, I stepped onto the curb and headed for what was probably a pointless meet and greet.
It was a small community, not far from campus.
The place was clearly dated, but it had the feel of somewhere that used to be quaint.
It had a compact parking lot next to the leasing office, then there was a gate to walk through, which didn’t have a lock on it, so I guess it was just for the aesthetic.
It let out into a small courtyard between three two-story buildings.
The one straight ahead was exactly where I was supposed to go.
It was hard to tell their size from the outside, but based on the number of windows and doors, I couldn’t imagine these were very big inside. Bigger than the dorm, at least, and all I really cared about was sleeping by myself.
Thinking about it like that was kind of depressing. A couple months ago, I was planning on moving into a place with Sadie, my now ex-girlfriend. Life was too short to mess around with things that weren’t working, and she definitely fell into the ‘not working’ category.
At least now, I’d be doing things on my own. Nobody could stand in my way.
I climbed the stairs, then stopped in front of the first door.
It was a corner unit, so that was cool. If my room was on the side that didn’t share a wall with the neighbors, I wouldn’t have to worry as much about being too loud, not that I was that kind of person.
I was a firm believer in using headphones when there were other people around.
God, what if this guy was the opposite?
I had to focus on scoping things out thoroughly. The last thing I wanted was to be too hasty, then end up with a roommate I despised. That was my worst nightmare.
My knuckles had barely touched the door when it swung open. I blinked at what stood in front of me, or more accurately, who stood in front of me.
“Is this a joke?” I asked.
Oliver laughed, his hand going behind his neck to rub it. “A joke? Nah, but I did have one prepared to break the ice.”
“I . . .” My stomach felt too acidic for me to force out any words.
“Knock knock,” he said. When I remained silent, he bit down on his lower lip for a second. “Who’s there? Me, obviously.” He made a ta-da gesture that made my nose wrinkle.
“Right . . .”
“Well, this is awkward. It was supposed to be kind of ironic, I guess. Like, you knew it was me, but you’re at the door, so it was fitting. It went better in my head. Anyway, you can come in.”
He stepped to the side and gestured into the apartment. I was still playing catch up, torn between disbelief and anger. Maybe I felt both.
Benny. Oliver freaking Bennett.
Goddamnit, Brooks. What was he playing at? I knew that he was perceptive—annoyingly so. There was no way he hadn’t noticed that Oliver and I hadn’t hit it off, so what was the point? To piss me off, most likely, and it was definitely working.
“Are you just going to stand there?” Oliver asked. His head cocked; I didn’t know if it was a curious or taunting gesture.
Without saying anything, I stepped inside the apartment.
He closed the door behind me, making me feel sort of trapped, then walked into the kitchen and leaned against the counter.
It was small, just a galley style with a couple of cabinets on each side.
Dated, but in good condition. At least it didn’t smell or anything, and the sink only had a few dishes in it.
I’d texted him yesterday, so it was possible he’d cleaned.
For all I knew, he lived like a rat most of the time.
“You know, Dean, I’m getting the impression you didn’t expect to find me here, which is weird since this is my place.”
“I didn’t,” I replied as I made my way further in.
The living room was small and there was no dining room, which I couldn’t care less about.
Most people didn’t actually use them anyway.
There was a couch, a wooden coffee table, and a TV on a simple stand.
I eyed the two bookshelves, which were stocked with manga alongside various decorative pieces I’d label as nerdy—anime, mostly.
I also saw some Lord of the Rings décor and a dragon that I thought was from Game of Thrones.
This made sense somehow. I hardly knew the guy, but it just felt like him.
Glancing to the right, I saw two doors. Assuming they were to the bedrooms, I opened one, but I found a bathroom behind it.
I walked through and pushed open another, which led to a bedroom.
It was plain, only a bed, a nightstand, and a tall dresser.
When I went through the final door, I found myself back in the living room.
My lips tilted downward as I sifted through the information. The Jack and Jill bathroom situation was fine and dandy, but if my calculations were correct, something wasn’t adding up.
“Is there not another room?” I ventured.
“No.”
I jumped a little when Oliver’s voice came from right behind me. It was kind of creepy that he’d been following me without making a sound.
Moving into the living room, I turned so that he couldn’t surprise me again. “Look, man, I don’t know what’s going on. If this is a prank you and Brooks have going—”
“A prank?” His head cocked again, making me clench my teeth.
“Well, I’m looking to rent a room, not shack up with you.”
He laughed a little, then leaned against the doorframe. “I’m not trying to shack up. The couch pulls out.”
“Oh. Well, I’m not really into that. It doesn’t seem much better than the dorm situation, honestly.”
“You’d have the room to yourself.” He pushed away from the wall and sauntered to the couch. With a very dad-like groan, he dropped onto it and spread his arms over the back. “I like to sleep out here.”
“You like to sleep in the living room? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“It makes perfect sense. The window is bigger and lets in more light, the TV is out here, and it’s roomier. Plus, I get to see my babies.” He motioned toward the shelves.
“Yeah, I guess.”
He studied me for a long moment before he stretched his arm over his shoulder, making his t-shirt rise above his pelvic bone. Combined with his burgundy basketball shorts, he looked incredibly casual.
“You want the room or not?” he prompted.
Realizing he was still watching me, I stuffed my hands in my pockets again. “I don’t think this is what I’m looking for. Thanks, though.”
I headed for the door, more than ready to get the hell out of here.
The whole thing was weird. He was weird.
Maybe he was a nice person, but we just didn’t click, and every interaction felt like it was forced, as if we couldn’t bounce off of each other at all.
Something about Oliver felt like a show that I didn’t care to understand.
“Hey, wait, man.”
His fingers wrapped around my bicep, pulling me to a stop. I immediately stepped away, but he didn’t get the hint and his grip stayed in place.
“What is it you don’t like about me?” he asked.
My brows rose slightly. “What do you mean?”
“It’s a straightforward question.”
I didn’t know how to put it into words, nor did I know if it was worth trying. He was staring, though, in that intense way he did, as if he didn’t know it was awkward. I really couldn’t get a read on this fucking guy. The look on his face spoke of pure, unrestrained curiosity.
After swiping a hand down my face, I leaned back against the front door. “I don’t dislike you.”
“You clearly don’t like me.”
“Do I need to?”
His cheek twitched, pulling to the side a little, and he cast his eyes to the floor.
Shit, maybe he did need reassuring. He didn’t look the type to seek validation, but who was I to judge a book by its cover?
“We’re just different people,” I explained as I roamed the space with my eyes. “I don’t get you, man.”
“You don’t know anything about me, so I don’t expect you to get me.”
“Okay, tell me this. Why do you think we’d be able to tolerate each other as roommates? Especially with this setup.” I gestured at the couch.
“I haven’t thought about it.”
“You’re offering someone a room but haven’t thought about it?”
He shrugged as if it really didn’t matter. I wanted to call him crazy. That, or simply walk out.
“What if you moved someone in here and hated them?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
“What the hell do you mean you don’t know?”
“I mean I don’t know.” Leaning back against the counter in the kitchen, he tilted his head, staring past me as he thought about something.
“Really, I actually don’t know. Brooks sent a text, I have a room that I don’t use, and you need a room.
If things ended up being shit, I’d deal with it, I guess. ”
“How fucking simple has your life been that you don’t have a care in the world?”
His jaw ticked, which was the first real emotion other than nonchalance or humor that I’d seen from him. Shaking my head, I put my hand on the knob and turned it, but I hesitated.
“Thanks for the offer. Sorry if I came off as a dick.”