Chapter 10
Oliver
I woke to the sound of footsteps.
Sucking in a breath, I sat up straight and looked around the apartment. My eyes paused on the front door, which was locked. Flipping around, I checked the back door. Also locked.
The sound came again, and I instinctively gripped the blanket tighter. When I registered that the steps were coming from the bedroom, I set my feet on the floor, readying to head for the patio. It was closer.
The door opened, revealing a sleepy-looking Dean. My shoulders slumped, and I drew in a long breath.
That was something I’d have to get used to.
“You good?” he asked.
“Yup.”
Apparently satisfied with that, he headed into the kitchen. I laid back, staring at the ceiling. Dean opened and closed a cabinet, then I heard something crinkle. A few taps. Water running. A button. A beep. Then coffee brewing. He must’ve brought those things from his dorm.
“You want any?” he offered. “Wait, you don’t drink it.”
Sitting up, the blanket fell into my lap. I leaned back on my hands and smiled at him. “You remembered.”
“Well, you just said it last night.”
“Still.”
“Why don’t you drink caffeine?”
“You know caffeine’s a drug?”
“I mean, sure, but not really.”
“I’m not knocking it,” I said quickly. “I just don’t take anything that causes dependency.”
“So, no alcohol.”
“Never tried it.”
“That’s impressive.”
My head cocked. “I’m surprised you didn’t say that’s weird. Most people think it is. They assume I’m an addict—which I’m not, by the way—or they want me to try it.”
“I think it’s weirder to act like it’s a necessary part of life.”
Great. My intrigue level just kicked up a notch.
Getting to my feet, I stretched my arms above my head. My hip popped, then my shoulder. If this was twenty-four, I couldn’t imagine the soundtrack I’d create at forty.
I walked into the kitchen, then leaned my elbows on the counter. The scent of coffee was strong as it brewed, and I wrinkled my nose a little. I’d never tasted it, and going by the smell alone, I didn’t think I’d like it.
Feeling eyes on me, I looked at Dean. He was gloriously bare-chested, but I didn’t stare. I met his eyes and offered him my best smile.
“Any plans today?” I asked.
“Nothing exciting.”
“I didn’t ask about exciting plans.”
Silently, he grabbed a mug and poured himself a cup of coffee. After adding a splash of milk and half a spoon of sugar, he brought it to his lips. My fingers tapped on the counter while I wondered if he hadn’t heard me. Or maybe the question was too intrusive coming from me.
“Getting some homework done,” he finally replied. “Might head to Harmon later.”
“Oh yeah? What for?”
“Check in with Tilian. He’s been texting me nonstop.”
“Is he okay?”
To my surprise, he kept talking. “He just needs some reassurance, I think.”
“Is it about Brooks? He’s been absent all week.”
He hummed as he took another drink. “The whole thing is complicated.”
“I’m gonna go out on a limb and say that Brooks was your errand yesterday.”
Dean just nodded. When it was clear that he was done sharing, I straightened, remembering that I had news for him.
“You still need a job?” I asked.
“Yeah. That’s another thing I should deal with today.”
“No need. I got a gig for you.”
His eyes widened, and the brown seemed to catch the light above him, making it shine like gold. “What do you mean you got a gig for me?”
“A job. I don’t know the exact hours, but I think it’d be mostly weekends. Plus the tips are allegedly good.”
“Uh, is it a server job or something?”
“Sorta. Bartender.”
An awkward laugh escaped him. Leaning one hand on the counter, he brought the mug to his lips. My gaze went to his arm, to the corded muscle, then to his face.
“I’m not twenty-one,” he said.
My mouth opened, but I didn’t know what to say, really. After a second, I frowned. “Oh. I guess I didn’t know you were that young.”
“I mean, I’ll be twenty-one in three months.”
Something about his defensive tone made me smile. Taking a step closer, I leaned my hip against the counter. “If it helps, you’re more on top of your life than I was at twenty. Probably more than I am now, honestly.”
“You have your own place. And a job. And, like, a bachelor’s degree, right?”
I lifted one shoulder. “Those aren’t hard. It’s the other stuff.”
“Like what?”
I just flicked my hand to the side vaguely. “Remi’s really smart. I bet he can still give you the job somehow.”
“Wait.” His easygoing demeanor shifted noticeably. “The job’s with Remi?”
“Yeah, I didn’t mention that?”
“Nope.”
“Ah, my bad. He’s down for it if you are.”
“He is?”
“Why do you look surprised?”
His nose wrinkled. “Well, he hates my guts.”
“He doesn’t know you enough to hate your guts. Maybe your face, but not your guts.”
His jaw ticked, then he shook his head. “Really. He doesn’t like me.”
My eyes shifted to the left, following the hum of the refrigerator. I thought about the way Remi had reacted to Dean yesterday when they met, then when I was at his place. He was bristling like a cat holding its ground on its own turf.
Breathing a laugh, I rubbed the back of my neck. “I hoped you didn’t notice.”
“So, you know?”
“I . . .” Twisting my lips to the side, I considered how to respond. “He doesn’t hate you.”
Dean snorted.
“Really,” I insisted. “There are very few people he hates, and they earned it. He’s just . . . protective.”
“Protective of you?” When I didn’t respond, he took a long drink. Once he set the cup down, he crossed his arms. “He said you’re brothers. Or something of the sort.”
“We lived together for a little bit. He watches out for me, and he’s going to be suspicious of you until he accepts you’re not a threat or something.”
“And if he determines I am?”
This time, I snorted. “He’s protective and sometimes feisty, but he doesn’t make things up. You’re not a bad guy, so you have nothing to worry about. Besides, if he really had an issue with you, he wouldn’t have agreed to give you the job.”
“Maybe you’re just really convincing.”
I ran my tongue along my lower lip. “I can be.”
“Well,” he sighed, “I guess I’ll give it a shot. As long as nobody will get in trouble. I guess it’s not any worse than hitting up freaking Walmart, and like you said, the tips are a plus.”
“That’s the spirit.” With a grin, I took a step back. “I have to work until eight, but I can make dinner.”
He lifted one brow, which somehow drew more attention to the chiseled lines of his face. “We don’t have to eat together just cause we’re roommates.”
“Sure, but we can.”
“Hm. Oh—” He started pouring more coffee, and I wondered if he needed it to function. “I was wondering about the lease.”
“For the apartment? What about it?”
“When do I sign it?”
My head cocked. “I hadn’t thought about that.”
His eyes widened. “Wait, don’t tell me you never cleared this with them.”
I grimaced. “I have to?”
“Bro . . .”
The way his lips pursed and his brows drew down made me step closer. His eyes landed on me, and as he held his mug with a tight grip, I thought he seemed mad.
“I’m sorry,” I said quickly, looking at the floor. “Honest to God, I didn’t know. When I lived with Remi for a while, he didn’t tell anyone, but I guess that was a little different.”
“It’s fine.”
I shook my head. “Damnit, I should’ve thought about it. Seriously, what’s wrong with me?”
He started to say something, but I couldn’t stand to be in the kitchen any longer.
My heartbeat was loud in my ears as I escaped the narrow space, heading for the back of the apartment.
I could’ve gone out the front, but there would just be too much open space.
Too tight, too wide. There was no winning.
My fingers fumbled with the latch on the sliding door.
When it sprung up, I yanked it open and stumbled outside.
Immediately, I felt a little bit better just by breathing in the crisp morning air.
I shifted my focus to the plants on my balcony.
There was a spider that had attached itself to my winter jasmine, and the silk of its web glistened in the sunshine with a spot of dew hanging from it, creating the perfect picture.
I wanted to pull out my phone, but I didn’t have it on me. Instead, I crouched to bring my nose closer to the flowers.
“Are you okay?”
My fingers tightened against my knee. “Look, man, I’m sorry—”
“Why are you apologizing so much?”
I felt his presence looming behind me, so I turned around abruptly, rising to my feet in the same motion.
My hand bumped into the jasmine, and I felt something tickle my finger.
I watched the spider crawl up to my wrist, searching for the home I’d just disturbed.
Carefully, I brought it back to the web, then waited for it to return to its place there.
When I turned back to Dean, he looked somewhat bemused as he watched. I was torn between making more apologies or shutting the entire interaction down. Then, his eyes found mine, and in the light of the morning sun, they were incredibly warm.
“Seriously, it’s cool,” he said before I could think of any words. “I’m sure it won’t be a big deal to the manager. And if it is”—he shrugged easily—“the guys at the frat have a spot for me. They bug me about taking it all the time.”
“Why don’t you?”
“You wanna live in a house full of football guys who have parties every other weekend?”
I laughed a little, though it sounded forced. My nails dug into the back of my neck, but when I saw him watching the movement, I dropped my hand. “No, I’ve had my share of fighting for space.”
“Big family?”
“Something like that.”
He nodded once, and the mood seemed to lighten, as if the air that had once been heavy had suddenly thinned. “Well, I’m gonna shower. I’ll let you know about dinner.”
“Yeah, cool.”
He went back inside without another word, leaving me staring at the door.
With a sigh, I turned and set my hands on the railing while I stared into the distance.
This place didn’t offer a great view since all the buildings around it were taller, but I didn’t care about that.
All I needed was the sense of freedom that came with it, the space to exist in a way I’d never been able to before I came here.
Hopefully, I hadn’t weirded out Dean enough to drive him away already. I didn’t want to stare at that bedroom door anymore, knowing it was empty in there but fearing what might come through it.
Was it fair to see him as a solution to that? Maybe, maybe not.
It’d be fine. I wasn’t going to keep freaking out over nothing. This was new, and there had never been anyone in my space like this.
My entire life, I’d lived in other people’s houses, always existing as the extra, the boy who had to stretch and mold himself into whatever space he walked into.
The boy who had to wonder how long it would last. How bad it would be this time.
Whether I’d become unlucky enough to end up with the scars Remi carried around on his soul.
I wasn’t that boy anymore. It was starting to feel like I’d have to remind myself every day for the rest of my life.