Chapter 22
Oliver
The drive home felt slow, but it was probably just my nerves.
Nothing had happened, yet it felt like something had.
It was in Dean’s demeanor, in the way he spoke and looked at me, the way he’d gripped my hand as we raced out of that party.
It was like we were running toward something—the stars themselves, maybe—but now I wasn’t sure.
I wouldn’t let my mind run off with ideas. Those were ridiculous, and I already allowed myself too much daydreaming on the best of days.
As soon as I parked, I jumped out of the car, not giving myself a second to think.
I opened Dean’s door, and he grumbled about it.
I wanted to help him, but he wasn’t hammered.
Just a little drunk. Enough to sway slightly and complain about the stairs, as if he was being asked to run the football field.
Without a word, he veered toward the bathroom. I wondered if he felt sick. Was it a nice gesture to be there for support if he was? I’d handled Remi’s bouts of irresponsible behavior, but I was far from an expert.
I’d just check on him. Just to be sure.
“Dean,” I called. I rapped on the door, but he didn’t respond, which made my heart rate spike. “Dean, you okay?”
I opened the door at the exact moment that he leaned over to turn on the shower. Bare freaking naked.
“Shit,” I muttered, stepping back.
He whirled around with wide eyes. “What are you doing?”
“Checking on you.” I looked away, considering whether it was weird to just close my eyes entirely.
“Oh, okay. I’m just gonna shower. I could’ve sworn I said that.” He sounded casual, unbothered, even as he stood there with his entire dick out.
“You didn’t. Have fun with that.”
Closing the door behind me, I ignored the little voice that asked if it was safe for him to do that right now.
I didn’t need to protect Dean, but he was more vulnerable than usual right now.
It sort of felt like our roles had reversed.
I didn’t mind, but it didn’t feel natural, whereas he seemed to fall right into his protective state without question.
I, on the other hand, was questioning everything.
While I sat on the couch, I chewed on my thumb nail. When it cracked, I didn’t pause. My teeth had a vendetta against the damn thing at this point.
The shower shut off, bringing me back to reality. I didn’t know how long it had been. I also didn’t know if it was weirder if I did. If I started tracking Dean’s shower time, I’d know that I’d officially cracked.
The door swung open to the living room, and he waltzed out wearing a towel around his waist. He could’ve gone directly into his room, but he hadn’t. His eyes landed on me, and a light smile lit up his face.
“So, that was awkward, huh?”
I tried to stay casual. “Was it?” Lifting one shoulder, I rolled my ankle idly. “Not the first dick I’ve seen.” Like a weirdo, I gestured at my own.
To my horror, his eyes followed the motion. “Yeah, same.”
“Oh?”
He ran a hand through his hair, and I watched some drops of water slide down his forehead. “Been playing sports my whole life. Comes with the territory.”
“Sure does. Dudes on the swim team were almost too comfortable stripping right in your face.”
“Sounds like a hard time.”
The joke helped me relax a little as I chuckled. In the silence that followed, I wasn’t sure what to do. Apparently, neither was he, because he offered me an awkward smile before he turned and walked into his room without a word.
I tilted my head back to stare at the ceiling, but then I heard him swear. Loudly. Without even thinking about it, I jumped to my feet and rushed after him.
“What happened?”
He looked at me from his place on the bed. He had his knee bent and his foot on the edge. Thankfully, he was wearing shorts now, so I didn’t get a full-frontal view of his gooch.
“I stubbed my toe on the bedframe.”
Unable to help myself, I laughed. “Seriously?”
“I wouldn’t joke about that.”
“Right, of course.” Shaking my head, I walked closer. “I’m going to supervise until you’re safely tucked in.”
“You’re acting like I’m a danger to myself.”
“You probably are.”
“You probably are,” he mocked as he scooted backward. “Damnit. My pen is in my pocket.” He looked toward the bathroom, half pouting.
“You don’t need it.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do. You’re tipsy and your inhibitions are low.”
“It’s just my pen.”
“And you can ride out your alcohol without adding weed on top of it, thank you very much.”
With a huff, he twisted himself in odd ways until he managed to get under the covers. He wiggled, then let out a satisfied sound when he was settled.
“Well, you’re good to go,” I said.
“You can sleep here.”
I froze, instinctively looking toward the window to check if it was raining. I didn’t hear anything and the glass was dry.
“Oli?”
“Do you want me to?” I asked quietly.
He just shrugged, keeping his eyes closed.
I should’ve walked away. There was no reason for me to stay in here with him, especially not right now.
It was a bad idea, but I found myself moving to the other side of the bed. When I was lying on my side facing him, he rolled over. His dark eyes met mine, giving me too many reasons to stay.
“Why do you look freaked out?” he asked.
I drew in a slow breath. “Your inhibitions are low, remember?”
“What do you think I’m gonna do, grope you?” He snorted a laugh. “I’m not gay.”
“So you’ve said.”
“I didn’t know you were either.”
I remained completely still as he reached toward me. His fingers touched a piece of hair that had fallen over my eye, then he moved it away from my face. I could feel the heat from his skin as he slowly pulled back, and it made me want to grab his hand.
“I’m attracted to men,” I said, “but I’ve never had a real crush on one.”
“I’m not special then.” The corner of his mouth quirked upward, making my throat feel dry.
“Never said that.”
“You think I’m attractive, but that’s it.”
“Do you . . . want me to have a crush on you?”
“No, that’d be weird.”
“Oh. Right.”
He smacked my chest lightly. “Chill, man. I’m just messing with you.”
“Sorry. I’m just nervous.”
“Why?”
“Cause I have a crush on you, dumbass.”
He blinked a couple of times, then cleared his throat. “Well, that was straightforward.”
“I’ll go back to the couch.”
Before I could throw the covers back, he grabbed my forearm and laid it on the mattress between us. “Just sleep, Oli.”
“Here?”
“Don’t mess things up. Not now.”
I nodded once, unsure what to say. With his hand still on my arm, he closed his eyes. It didn’t take long for his lips to part and his breaths to deepen. Even as he slept, I couldn’t convince my heart to relax.
Something inside of me started to spiral out of control, making my stomach twist with nausea.
Despite logic telling me to pull back, to distance myself from these feelings that were bound to end badly for me, I found myself rooted in place.
It wasn’t fear or nerves. It was like a growing sense of loyalty, the same kind that had sprouted with Remi.
That one had driven me to abandon everything I knew and chase him across two states.
If I’d done that for my best friend, what would I find myself doing for this man who didn’t—and couldn’t—feel the same attachment to me?
It was pointless to consider that he might. I was never the one who got chosen—not from the moment I came into this world, never feeling the touch of a mother or the safety of a father.
I scooted just a little bit closer and shut my eyes, focusing on the sound of Dean’s breath to lull me to sleep.