Chapter 6
Dean
Rick groaned as he struggled to rack the bar. I let him sweat for just a second before I helped. When he flopped his arms to the sides, I chuckled.
“Weak,” I said.
His eyes narrowed. “I’m not competing with you.”
“Fine, I’ll stick with Linc from now on.”
Linc snorted mid-bicep curl. “I’m officially out of the game.”
“Football, yeah, but there’s no end to friendly competition.”
“Friendly? You’re the king of unhealthy competition.”
“Nah, that’s Densmore.”
He laughed, which surprised me. Usually, he was all scowls and changed the subject when his over-ambitious rival was mentioned. If there were ever two people completely opposed to each other, it was them.
“Anyone know how Densmore’s ribs are doing since the game?” Rick asked, sitting up.
I took his place on the bench. “Don’t know. He hasn’t been around much, but he seemed fine at their apartment.”
Linc was staring at his phone with a blank expression. When he noticed me watching, he tossed it onto a bench and went back to his curls. “West has Kai to take care of him.”
“Got anyone to take care of you?”
He lifted one brow. “What’s that mean?”
I shrugged. “You look a little lost lately.”
“I’m good. Just shifting my focus these days.”
“The team’s gonna miss you,” Rick said.
“I’ll be around.”
“Better be. We’ll drag you out if you disappear for too long.”
I racked the bar and chuckled. “Good luck finding his secret apartment. He doesn’t trust any of us with it.”
“For good reason,” Linc said with a smirk. “I need peace and quiet.”
“Yeah, yeah. You and your piano against the world.”
“Exactly. Dean gets it.”
“Maybe Linc will finally let you take his spot at the frat house,” Rick noted, winking at me.
I considered it while he did his set. Would it be better than Oliver’s offer?
I was pinching pennies in the dorm, barely able to keep myself fed.
Generally, that amounted to black coffee that tasted like burial ash, ramen, and a severe deficiency in beneficial vitamins and nutrients.
The rent at the apartment would be more manageable, but the guys at the frat might be more . . . tolerable.
While I spiraled into the realm of what-ifs, I didn’t realize that someone else had come up to our group. I blinked a few times, trying to figure out if Tilian was actually in the land of the living right now—in the gym that was currently occupied by most of the football team.
He looked out of place here. Tilian was cool, if not a little strange. I wasn’t sure what ate at him every day, and I wasn’t the type to push for information. Anxiety was a good bet. A general distaste for society felt on brand.
“What’s up?” I asked.
He looked from me to the guys. Linc smiled at him, which made Tilian blush before his eyes met mine. “Uh, can I talk to you?”
I just nodded, then started walking toward the locker room. He followed, still looking like this was his worst nightmare. When we were inside, I leaned against a row of lockers.
“You alright?”
He lifted one shoulder. “I’m worried.”
“Go on.”
With a sigh, he ran both his hands through his hair. It fell over his forehead, and when he hung his head, I couldn’t see his eyes anymore.
“I can’t get ahold of Brooks.”
Of course we were back to this. The guy hadn’t been in class today, and I could see the way it got to Tilian. He was the king of overthinking, and it didn’t help that he seemed hella attached already.
What would a friend do in this situation?
“Do you need me to check on him?” I offered a little reluctantly.
He lifted his head. “Would you?”
“I mean, maybe, but why don’t you?”
“He obviously doesn’t want to talk to me.”
“I don’t think that’s obvious. Maybe he’s busy.”
“Too busy to text?” He snorted. “That’s not like him.”
“Do you even know what’s like him?”
He frowned, and I scolded myself for sounding rude. As much as I didn’t trust the guy, this wasn’t about my history with Brooks. It was about Tilian.
Putting a hand on his shoulder, I waited for him to look at me again. “I’ll see what I can do. You shouldn’t worry so much about it.”
“If I’m not worrying, I must be dead.”
“Seriously, don’t let this guy mess up your head. I’ll let you know if I find him.”
Wrapping his arms around himself, he nodded. “Sorry I interrupted your workout.”
“I’m done anyway. You heading home?”
“I was going to get some coffee. Have you been to that place down the street?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Walk with me.”
I just grunted my agreement and stuck by his side.
“So, what’s happening on the roommate front?” he asked as we left the building. “Distract me with good news.”
“I told him I’d do it.”
“That’ll be cool.”
“Maybe.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him look at me. “Have you told your parents?”
My nose wrinkled. “Not that it’s official, no. I’m worried they’ll think it’s a bad idea.”
“So what?”
It was hard not to laugh. “You don’t care what your parents have to say about your decisions?”
“Not really. If I think it’s a smart move, it doesn’t matter. Do you not think it’s a smart move?”
“I don’t know yet, honestly. I’m not a fan of uncertainty.”
“I get that. But if anything goes wrong, you can sleep on my floor.”
With a smile, I tucked my chin to keep the rain off of my face. “You’d let me?”
“Sure, but not for long. I’ll get tired of stepping on you at night.”
“Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
He took a long pull from his dab pen and gave me a stern look that felt out of place on him. “Be positive,” he said after a minute. “Oli seems like a good guy.”
“He’s kind of weird.”
“We’re all weird. Grow up and get over it.”
Shaking my head, I kicked a rock on the sidewalk. “You’re the weirdest of us all, man.”
He flipped me off, then passed me the pen. Just as I started to hit it, the sky decided to open up, releasing a mighty downpour. Swearing, I broke into a run.
“Come on,” I called, looking over my shoulder at Tilian, who was spinning in a circle with his arms out. “Crazy bastard.”
“Rude. I was going to buy you coffee.”
“Did I say crazy bastard? I meant . . . adorable little gremlin.”
“Gremlin?” He scoffed.
Slinging my arm over his shoulders, I pulled him in close, tightening it around his neck so he couldn’t squirm free. “Like a cursed little Labubu.”
“Fuck you,” he gritted out as he tried to pull away.
Releasing him, I stepped to the side to dodge one of his sharp elbows. I was about to make another comment, probably even more likely to incur his wrath, when I saw a commotion up ahead.
Two men were facing away from us, but it was clear that they were fighting. The shorter one got the guy in a headlock and yanked him backward to destabilize his footing. Unbalanced, the one in front managed to spin them around and—
“Is that Oli?” Tilian asked.
I took off, recognizing that he was already in a bad spot.
“Hey!” Tilian shouted, outpacing me. It annoyed me that people were just walking by, as if a man wasn’t being fucking mugged in broad daylight.
Noticing we were headed for them, the guy released Oliver. I reached for him, not wanting him to get away, but another hand snapped out, locking around my arm. With more strength than I expected, Oliver spun me to the side, then grabbed my other bicep. His grip was firm, his green eyes intense.
“What are you—” I started.
“Don’t,” he said. Before I could respond, he let me go and turned away.
Tilian gave me a curious look, but I just shrugged as I watched Oliver walk over to his attacker. He said something I couldn’t make out, then opened his wallet. After passing him some cash, he offered him a bright smile and nodded toward the other side of the street.
“Is this a turn the other cheek thing?” Tilian asked when the guy was gone. He looked Oliver up and down with narrowed eyes. “If you’re Jesus, you’d better come right out and say it.”
Oliver’s brow tightened. “Jesus?”
“Walked on water, liked figs, wore some dope sandals.”
“I know who Jesus is.”
“Oh.” Tilian grimaced. “Well, consider yourself proselytized anyway. Points for my eternal soul.”
Shaking his head, Oliver breathed a laugh. “You’re a weird little dude.”
“Don’t call me little.”
“Oops.” Shifting his attention to me, Oliver frowned. “Sorry for grabbing you. I thought you were going to hit Cyrus.”
I lifted a brow. “The mugger told you his name?”
“Mugger? No, he’s a friend of mine.” His head cocked. “You thought I was being mugged?”
“I mean, that’s why I tried to help.”
“Aw, that’s sweet.”
Not sure if he was mocking me, I didn’t respond.
“I’m gonna go ahead and order those coffees,” Tilian chimed in. “Want a latte, Oli?”
His eyes brightened. “Peppermint tea would be cool. Thanks, man.”
Walking backward, Tilian offered me a double thumbs up and a wink before he rushed away. I wanted to run after him, but Oliver was staring at me expectantly.
“So, are you mad?” he asked as he rubbed the back of his neck. “That I manhandled you.”
Surprised by the question, I laughed. “No, we’re cool. I just didn’t know you were having a friendly brawl on the sidewalk.”
“He was showing me how he fought someone off the other day.”
“Ah. If you give out cash to everyone who beats you in a fight, I might have to request a match soon.”
“Do you need it?”
I opened my mouth to respond, but I saw him pulling out his wallet again. Holding my hand up, I shook my head. “It was a joke.”
“Okay.” He offered me a smile and gestured for me to start walking.
God, this was the most awkward conversation of my life.
“I would have introduced you,” he said after a minute. “But Cyrus is sort of skittish.”
“I’m sure he wasn’t a fan of me anyway.”
“He wouldn’t hold it against you. He just expects the worst from people.”
“Bad experiences?”
“You could say that. He doesn’t have a place to live, and he’s been through some things out here over the years.”
“I can imagine.”
“I offered to let him crash with me for a bit, just so he could get things straightened out, but he said no.”
“That sounds like a good deal. Why’d he turn it down?”
“I told him he’d have to get sober. If he could do that, he can do anything, but he says he isn’t ready for that. And hey, I appreciate his honesty, you know?”
“But you still help him out,” I noted, trying to wrap my head around it all. “Some people would say giving him money is a bad move.”
“Some people don’t understand that life isn’t simple. Just because he’s struggling doesn’t mean he deserves to be hungry.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Anyway, that’s why I’m out here today. I have people I check on.”
As I opened the door to the coffee shop, I glanced at the sky, which was still pissing all over us. “Not a great day for being outside.”
Pausing halfway through the door, he looked at me. I wanted to tell him to stop taking his time, but he’d grown serious.
“They have to be out here, even when it’s miserable. I think I’ll live.”
With that, he continued to the corner where Tilian had snagged three plush chairs.
I took one, still feeling like I’d been scolded.
As someone from a city more crowded than this one, I was used to seeing people living on the streets.
Whereas I had started to tune them out, accepting them as part of my surroundings, Oliver went out of his way to check on them. That was . . . something else.
“So, Oli says the guy you almost punched lives in a tent,” Tilian said, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Shame, Dean.”
My eyes narrowed. “I didn’t almost punch him. I was being a hero.”
“I don’t know if you should be part of our sociology project anymore. It’s a bad look, you know?”
“Your sole coping mechanism is weed. Get yourself straight before you come at me.”
“Straight? Never understood the hype.”
Oliver chuckled around his cup. When he looked at me, his eyes were bright. “You guys are funny.”
“You must be easily entertained.”
“Oh, very.” He leaned his elbows on his knees, keeping his fingers locked around the cup. “You’re from New York, right? Is it as exciting as it looks?”
“Uh . . .” I adjusted in my seat, glancing briefly at Tilian, but he was tapping away on his phone. “Not really. How’d you know where I’m from?”
“I asked Brooks,” he replied without hesitation.
A little awkwardly, I breathed a laugh. “Right. You know, most people would sound at least a little embarrassed about that.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
“Is it embarrassing to ask about you?”
“I guess not.”
“Cool. Glad we cleared that up.” He winked at me before leaning back. His gaze went out the window, full of wonder as if he’d never seen rain on asphalt before.
When I looked at Tilian this time, he was watching me. Sweet, he mouthed with a little smirk.
My nose wrinkled, and I focused on drinking my coffee, wishing I had just stayed home. Although, home would soon mean being around Oliver far more often, so it was probably best if I got used to it.