Chapter 26
Dean
Twelve. That was how many times Oli had slept in my bed now.
We hadn’t really talked about it. It wasn’t that big of a deal, but it also wasn’t exactly normal.
What was less normal was that I hadn’t slept well last night, which happened to be the first night I’d slept alone all week.
I’d gotten home late from work and he’d already been settled on the couch.
He looked at me, and I looked at him, but I decided it was time to cut that cord. So, I went to bed by myself.
Remi told me I looked tired today, and a couple other people had asked if I was okay. I wanted to blame something else. Anything else. When I tried to come up with an excuse, there was just nothing that stuck.
I opened the front door, unable to suppress my sigh.
Too tired to give a shit, I tossed my keys on the counter and kicked my shoes off in the entryway.
Maybe I was adopting his messy habits. He tried to clean up more because he thought it bothered me, which it sort of did, but I was getting used to it.
Clearly, he was a terrible influence, yet I kept stepping closer instead of backing away.
I expected Oli to pop his head up, but the couch was empty. With a frown, I looked toward the bathroom. The door was open and the light was off. He was probably on the balcony.
Resisting the urge to check on him, I headed into my room. It was only ten, but I was exhausted from my restless night, so I stripped out of my shirt and pants, then dropped into my bed. When I rolled over, I ran into a body.
“Jesus,” I exclaimed.
“Sorry,” Oli mumbled.
I propped myself on an elbow and looked down at him.
He was bundled in the blanket, which was pulled up to his nose.
With the way his waves fell over his forehead, he sort of looked like he was wearing one of those ninja masks.
All I could see were his eyes, and even in the darkness, they stood out like shards of kryptonite.
“I figured you were on the balcony,” I said.
He shook his head, still holding the blanket to his face. I scooted closer, lowering my cheek to the pillow. Like this, I could feel the heat from his body. My knee bumped his, and my heart pounded when he hooked his foot over my ankle before I could pull back.
“You’re quiet,” I said.
“Mm.”
“Oli. Talk to me.”
“Why?”
“Because, against all odds and everything holy, I’m worried about you.”
“I feel like an asshole.”
The way he blurted it was so sudden, I raised my brows. “You’re the furthest thing from an asshole.”
“I knew I had a thing for you when I offered you the room.”
“And?”
“And what? That’s a dick move. I feel like I dragged you into this.”
“What is this? So you have a crush on me. It’s all good, man.”
“If you want to move out, I won’t stop you.” The words rushed out of his mouth so fast, I barely had time to process them. “I’ve been expecting you to do it this entire time anyway, especially after how much I’ve screwed up. Besides—”
I gripped his jaw tightly, and he stopped talking. I didn’t know if he moved closer or I did, but my face was only a foot from his as I drew in a long breath.
“If you don’t stop making assumptions . . .”
“Then what?” he asked.
“I don’t know, but I’ll figure something out.”
His lips parted, and my eyes locked onto them.
This was ridiculous. I needed to let him go and kick him out of my bed.
Now. I needed to do it now.
My grip on him softened, but instead of moving back like I expected, he inched forward.
“Talk to me,” I said quickly, before he could get closer.
He paused. “Say please.”
“I don’t find this funny, Oli.”
He rolled his lips inward, making him look . . . I didn’t know. Impossible. That was pretty accurate lately.
I shook my head, closing my eyes. “This is a bad idea.”
“Or it’s a good one.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re good for me. And I might be good for you too.”
For a second, I was stunned into silence. “Dude, I think you’re actually insane.”
“Maybe.”
“Just . . . go to sleep. Please.”
“You sure you want me to be in here?”
“Yes,” I said, refusing to question how fast I answered.
He scooted closer to me until we were practically cuddling. With a deep breath, I readjusted the blanket, making sure he was covered. Like he’d done to me, I hooked my ankle over his and closed my eyes.
“Goodnight, Dean.”
I didn’t answer, holding onto that one sliver of control over whatever this was.
*****
BossMan: I know I’m supposed to close tonight, but I need you to help me out.
I looked at the time, suppressing the urge to sigh.
It was eleven, which meant there were still three hours before last call.
I’d just clocked out at nine, and it had been slow when I left, but I couldn’t really say no.
I could use the extra hours, plus I didn’t think Remi would ask if it wasn’t important.
While I stepped into my shoes, I wondered what had happened. Most likely, he was hit with a random rush. A bunch of drunk college guys, maybe. He never had trouble running shit on his own, but it was possible he was getting used to having help.
I was making him spoiled. That was kind of funny, and it gave me a reason to go back in, possibly a little smugly.
“I’m headed out,” I said as I walked through the living room.
Oli sat up abruptly. He had his laptop on his legs and nearly sent it flying. “Where?”
“Work.”
“But you already worked.”
I shrugged. “Remi needs help.”
He pulled his lip between his teeth. It was usually when he felt shy or awkward, but this time, there was a tight set to his brows.
“Stop worrying,” I scolded. “It’s just busy.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“I notice things.”
Grabbing my keys off the hook, I left the apartment before he could respond. It only took a few minutes to get to the bar, and I took a deep breath while I prepared for what I’d walk into.
My keys fell from my hand as soon as I stepped in the door. The clang of them on the hard floor snapped me back to myself, and I quickly grabbed them before I rushed toward the counter.
“Hey!” I shouted. The guy behind the bar looked up in alarm, but he didn’t stop pouring the row of shots. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I work here.”
My eyes narrowed. Remi might’ve been an asshole, but I couldn’t imagine he’d stage this little stunt as a way to tell me I was fired. Judging by the raucous behavior going on, I didn’t think he had a hand in this at all.
“I work here,” I countered, marching around to the other side.
The guy swore and leapt over the surface, making sure to grab his drinks on the way.
“Nuh-uh,” I said. “Get the hell over here.”
I chased him over to the dart board and grabbed him by the back of the shirt. Finally accepting he’d been caught, he hung his head and let the drinks fall to the floor. The glass shattered, making me slam my teeth together.
Shaking my head, I dragged him to the door. I used my foot to push it open, then thrust him outside.
“You’re banned.”
“But I—”
I held up my finger to shut him up. “You’re lucky I don’t call the cops. Get the hell out of here. Don’t try my patience.”
It looked like he wanted to argue, but he seemed to think better of it. Once he was out of sight, I turned around and took in the state of the place. It was like a bunch of teenagers had been left unsupervised for the weekend.
“Where the fuck are you, Remi?” I muttered as I headed toward the back.
The sink was full of dishes and the basin was about to spill over. I rushed toward it and shut off the tap, then scanned the space. When I didn’t find him in the little office, I decided to check the last place he could be.
The walk-in made me shiver, but by some weird chance, Remi was sitting on the floor inside. He was scrolling on his phone with his hat pulled low, and he seemed intent on ignoring me.
“Remi.”
No response.
“Remi, what the hell’s happening?”
“Yeah, can you just take over? I know it’s a mess.”
“A mess? There was a guy using the bar as a self-serve station. Are you, like, having a panic attack or something?”
He shook his head sharply but didn’t respond. That wasn’t gonna work for me, so I marched over to him and yanked the hat off his head, removing any chance of protest. As if he realized there was no stopping me, he tipped his head back, leaning it against a shelf.
“Jesus,” I gasped. “Your face.”
“Pretty, huh?”
My jaw clenched as I looked at the bruising around one of his eyes. There was crusted blood beneath his nose, plus his lip was split.
Dropping into a crouch, I rested my forearms on my knees. “I’d say I didn’t take you for the fighting type, but that’d be a lie.”
“You should see the other guy.”
I looked at his hands, which were clean aside from what looked like his own blood that had dripped onto them.
“I’m shutting down the bar,” I decided.
“Fine.”
His lack of protest made me more wary, but I left him there so that I could deal with the situation.
“Everyone out!” I shouted.
Some people listened, but there were others who either ignored me or didn’t hear. Probably the former.
“Out before I throw you out. You’re nothing compared to the guys I’ve taken down on the field.”
They grumbled about it, but after a few minutes, the place was empty. I pulled out my phone and brought it to my ear as I leaned against the counter.
“Hey, Broku,” Oli answered, sounding conspiratorial for God knows what reason.
“There’s a . . . situation.”
“God damnit, I knew it. I’ll get in my car right now.”
“No,” I said quickly.
“Why?”
“Because if he wanted your help, I think he would’ve asked you, not me.”
There was a long silence that made me shift on my feet.
He sighed. “Something happened with Remi?”
“Yeah.”
“Bring him here.”
“But—”
“Dean, don’t argue with me right now. He didn’t text you because he wants your help. He just doesn’t want me to know whatever he did. He’ll deal with it himself, which means not dealing with it and stuffing it away to screw him up later.”
“Alright,” I muttered, knowing Oli understood Remi more than anyone. “I’ll see you soon.”
“And Dean?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you for telling me. He’ll ask you not to, if he hasn’t already.”
“Sure.”
After ending the call, I went back to the walk-in. Remi looked up, offering me a tight smile.
“You’re useful after all. Maybe I’ll keep you around.”
“Come on. We’re taking my car.”
His smile fell, giving way to an expression I could only describe as cold. “Don’t you dare try to take care of me. I’m not Oli.”
I scoffed, shaking my head as I grabbed his arm and hauled him to his feet. “Me? Nah, I don’t care enough to mend your fucked up face. But he does.”
“Wait.” He grabbed both of my shoulders tightly. His eyes were pleading now, the crazier Remi no longer visible in them. “Don’t tell him. He’ll just worry. You don’t want that. I know you don’t.”
“Jesus, man. Don’t start trying to manipulate me.”
“You care about him, obviously. Let’s just save him the stress. He holds onto a lot more of it than you know.”
“Give it up. I already told him.”
“Fucking hellfire.” He pushed me away from him and left the room. I followed close behind, thinking he’d try to bolt, but he just folded his arms and gestured for me to hurry up.
I wanted to question if he was actually seven years older than me. He sure wasn’t acting like it right now.
All that mattered was getting him to his best friend so he’d be out of my hands.