Chapter 9
Oliver
“You play this game too much,” I said, tossing the controller to the side.
Remi laughed. “You literally beat me.”
“Yeah, but barely. That’s how I know you play too much because I play too much. You’re a business owner, for God’s sake.”
“You’re a student with a full-time job. You shouldn’t have time to get this good.”
With a smile, I dumped the last of a bag of chips into my mouth. “School’s easy. Most teachers are just impressed to read a paper that sounds like it was written by a person, not ChatGPT.”
“Fair. Too bad I graduated before it became a big thing. I would’ve totally cheated.”
“Yeah, you’re a bad person. Nothing new there.”
“The future is bleak; the past was fucked. What’s the point in effort?”
“Personal fulfillment,” I offered. “Adding value to the world.”
He gestured vaguely. “I’m fulfilled and consistently adding value to our trash ass economy.”
With a sigh, I pulled out my phone. “You’re so negative.”
My mood lifted when I saw a text.
Broku: So, do you have a fav color or something?
Me: Yellow. Why? You getting me flowers?
Broku: You said there’d be questions. Thought I’d take the first swing.
“I should go,” I said.
“It’s only nine.”
I looked at Remi. His dejected expression made me frown. Leaning closer, I tapped his nose, which made his lips quirk slightly.
“We played three games,” I pointed out. “I can get on tomorrow when I’m done with work.”
“Today’s the only day I keep the bar closed.”
“Late nights have never stopped me.”
He grunted, pulling his legs up onto the couch. “You wanna check on him, huh?”
“He did just move in. I feel bad leaving him alone.”
“Why’d you really decide to get a roommate?”
Keeping a soft smile in place, I studied him. With his legs beneath him and his hands tucked between his thighs, he seemed smaller.
I put a hand on his forearm. “It’s like I said. The room was going to waste and he needed a place.”
“How well do you know him?”
“You don’t have to protect me, Rem. Not anymore.”
Finally, he met my eyes. His were like milk chocolate, dark and molten. “That wasn’t an answer.”
“Not that well,” I admitted. Before he could respond, I dug my fingers into his skin a little. “He’s a good guy. I’d never put myself in a bad position.”
After a few seconds, he nodded. “You don’t like living alone. I get it. I just wish you would’ve told me.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry. I was trying . . .” Rubbing the back of my neck, I breathed a laugh. “I was trying to be an adult about the whole thing.”
“Adults still talk to their friends about things.”
“You’re right. Maybe I’ll figure it out eventually.”
“A day at a time.”
I got to my feet and slipped my phone into my pocket. Remi followed me to the door, still looking like he had a million things to say. One thing I knew about him was that he wouldn’t hold his tongue, but he couldn’t be coaxed into saying something before he was ready.
“Oh.” I turned around, and he raised his brows, waiting for me to go on. “Are you actually wanting to fill a position at the bar?”
“Yeah, I want to open on Thursdays, and it’d help to have an extra pair of hands on the weekends.”
“Sweet deal. You take referrals? I’ve got the perfect candidate.”
He looked skeptical until I flashed him a grin. Even though he shook his head, he was smiling. “Who is it?”
“Dean.”
His smile faltered, but he didn’t let it fall entirely. “Ah. I have a better idea. You could take it.”
My nose wrinkled. “I would hate working at a bar. My job is perfect.”
“The tips are good.”
“Even better for him. You see the guy’s physique? I’m sure he could use the grocery money.”
“Oli . . .”
“Come on. For me?” I stuck my lip out and put on my best puppy dog eyes.
“Damnit. Why do you have to drag me into your good Samaritan shit?”
“It’s chicken soup for the soul.”
“Too bad I don’t have one.”
Narrowing my eyes, I fixed him with a stern look. “You’re not dead inside. Stop trying to be.”
A mischievous smile appeared on his lips. “Dead men tell no tales.”
“They also feel no pain.” Tapping my fist on his chest, I glanced at the rune on his necklace and softened my expression. “You’ll never stop protecting me, and I’ll never stop reminding you that you’re alive. It’s the way of the world, Rem.”
He let out a breath and nodded. “Fine. I’ll give him a trial run, but I’m not going easy on him.”
“I think he’d hate it if you did. You’re the best.”
“Mhm.”
At the door, I blew him a kiss, earning a scowl. I twirled my keys around my finger while I walked to my car, feeling lighter now that I had good news to deliver.
When I sat down, I pulled out my phone again.
Me: Favorite food? No dilly dallying. Do not pass GO. Do not collect $200.
Broku: You’re really weird. You know that?
Me: That’s what we call a dilly dally, pal. Chop chop. I’m impatient.
*****
Giant bag of food in hand, I jogged up the stairs. Thankfully, nobody surprised me at the door this time. Not that having Dean greet me there would’ve been bad. It might’ve been dope, actually.
I shook my head as I set the bag on the counter. The last thing I should do was think about him that way. We were roommates now. Friends, or on our way to it.
“Honey, I’m home,” I called.
Nothing.
Humming to myself, I walked to the bedroom. The door was open, so I peered in. When I still didn’t see anything, I stepped inside.
It looked different now, like it was actually lived in.
There was a picture of what I assumed was his family on the nightstand, and he’d added his own pillow.
I glanced at the four of them in the frame, at their easy smiles.
It didn’t look staged like most people’s family pictures.
His mom had her arms around a man in a wheelchair while Dean and another man, who I assumed was his brother, stood beside them.
He was in a headlock, but there was a giant smile on his face.
My fingers brushed the frame before I scolded myself for it. I moved to the dresser and looked at a trophy that had a baseball on it. The thing looked like it was from high school. I wondered if he’d grumble if I said it was cute.
The bathroom door opened, then Dean swore. “Warn a guy.”
When I turned to him, I licked my lips and leaned against the dresser.
His body was on display in just a pair of soft shorts that hung low on his hips.
Like this, it was almost too obvious how huge he was.
His shoulders were ridiculously broad, and he had defined abs nestled beautifully between his slim waist.
With him in front of me, I couldn’t pretend that Dean wasn’t hot. He looked like he’d walked straight out of the Marine Corps. If he started yelling at me, I might not even flinch.
“I did warn you,” I said.
He grunted as he made his way to the nightstand. “Didn’t hear you.”
“I still did my part.”
Sitting on the bed, he started pulling on a pair of socks. I was not a foot guy, but if he walked around here barefoot, I wouldn’t mind it.
Good God, I was screwed.
“You hungry?” I asked.
“I haven’t eaten yet.”
I rolled my eyes to the ceiling. “Direct questions should inspire direct answers.”
“Well, I thought it was direct.”
Looking at him, I found his eyes already on me. It brought a smile to my face, and there was just nothing I could do about it. I was pretty sure he was intrigued by me. That, or he kept thinking I was weird. I’d still consider that being intrigued.
“You like Dick’s?”
He snorted a laugh, then cleared his expression. “If we’re talking burgers, yeah.”
“Of course we are. You said you like, and I quote, ‘a fat, juicy, jaw-stretching burger.’”
“Is that what you got?”
“Come and see.”
He followed me out of the room, and for some reason, it felt like I’d accomplished something. If the way into Dean’s good graces was through his stomach, I’d happily get fat in pursuit of it.
“Christ,” he said when he saw the bag. “Are you feeding an army?”
“Nah, just a tank.” I looked at him meaningfully. He was still shirtless. Utterly indecent.
As I unloaded the pile of burgers, I could practically hear him salivating. The smell of them was downright intoxicating, and I would’ve jumped right in, but that wasn’t the way of things tonight.
When he reached for one, I swatted his hand. “Down boy.”
With a grunt, he leaned his elbows on the counter. “What weird shit are you on, then?”
“Weird,” I repeated, amused. “What’s weird about me?”
He nodded toward the counter where I’d left the key and note. They weren’t there anymore, and I wondered if he’d thrown it away. My body felt charged with the urge to check the trash, but I refrained.
“I like notes,” I said. “People just text in class now. It’s lame.”
“You like doodling too.”
My lips curved. “Sure do. It’s been a human pastime since the dawn of time.”
“I guess that’s an interesting way to see it.”
“How do you see it?”
“I kinda thought it was childish.”
I shrugged my mouth as I thought about it. “Sounds like a boring mindset to have. Who decides what’s childish? People who put a tie on every day and become slaves to corporate society?”
“Oh, you’re one of those.”
It was impossible not to laugh. “We all have to live in this society, and I’m cool with it, but I’ll be damned if I let it decide what I’m allowed to enjoy when I’m off the clock.”
“I respect it. Can I eat my food now?”
I held up my finger briefly, then started unwrapping each of the burgers.
It was clear that he was confused, maybe even annoyed, but I ignored him.
I took off the top bun of one, then stacked an entire burger on top of it.
After doing it a second time, I had a creation that might require me to unhinge my jaw.
“Fat, juicy, jaw-stretching,” I said before I brought it to my mouth. It took some wedging, but eventually, I managed to take a bite out of it. Setting the rest down, I put a hand in front of my mouth and began to chew.
Dean broke into laughter, which almost made me choke. I felt triumphant when he followed my example, except he added four together.
“Your bloodline is weak,” he said. After squishing it down the best he could, he took a massive bite, clearing nearly half of the mega burger in one go.
“Beast,” I garbled.
“Alright, what’s your favorite food?”
I tilted my head to one side, then the other. “I don’t know.”
“How do you not know?”
“It just depends on my mood.”
“If you were on death row—”
“Why am I on death row?”
“I don’t know. Just because.”
“Nah, I need a reason. Set the scene.”
He huffed, but he started tapping his fingers on the counter as he thought about it. “You stole the White House’s supply of Diet Coke.”
I nearly choked on a fry. “That’s not a killable offense.”
“You sure about that?”
“Fine. In your fantasy world, I’m facing a firing squad for absconding with soda. If that’s the case, I definitely want a 64-ouncer of full-sugar Coke, just on principle. And I want a full breakfast.”
“Like, a full English breakfast?”
“Ew, no. That’s foul.”
Shaking his head, he motioned for me to go on.
“Pancakes. The fluffy kind that choke you if you eat them too fast. Real maple syrup, not that corn syrup trash. Crepes with a bunch of berries and whipped cream. Thick, peppered bacon.”
“Lots of sugar, but no coffee?”
“I don’t drink caffeine.”
“Coke has caffeine.”
“Yeah, but I’m drinking that in retaliation, bro. Oh, I need a bowl of cereal.”
“Cereal,” he repeated. “You’re kidding.”
“That might be my favorite food, actually. I love me a big bowl of cereal.”
“Weird.”
“It’s the pinnacle of our society. It might be made of absolute garbage, but just go ahead and call me a trash panda, cause I’ll smash that all day.”
With how much he shook his head, I was starting to wonder if he was a bobblehead. Maybe I’d put him on my dashboard, as long as he was shirtless like that. It’d be the perfect way to start my mornings, along with a bowl of cereal the size of my head.