Chapter 27
Dean
It didn’t concern me and I wasn’t all that interested, but I could hear Oli and Remi talking through the wall.
That was how I picked up a few things. Cole was a name that came up a couple times.
Oli was angry; that much I could gather from his tone.
It felt odd on him, but I somehow preferred it to the worry that was on his face when Remi and I walked in the door.
I’d left the bar a mess, too intent on getting him here. Now, I wanted to go back and clean it up. It’d be easier if I got it over with rather than trying to do it when I opened tomorrow.
Just a moment after I sat up and put my feet on the floor, there was a knock at my door.
“Yeah?”
It opened slowly, then Oli’s face appeared in the crack. “You awake?”
“No, I’m sleepwalking.”
He chuckled as he stepped into the room. When he shut the door behind him, it was dark again, only his outline visible.
“Is he okay?” I asked.
“He’ll be fine. Better if he’d actually listen to me sometimes.”
“He doesn’t seem the type.”
Oli sighed and leaned against the wall, sinking his hands into his pockets. “He is, but at the same time, he isn’t. He doesn’t understand healthy relationships.”
“Good thing he has you, then.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
Reaching forward, I grabbed his hand and pulled him closer. He sat on the bed beside me, then scooted backward.
“He’s sleeping on the couch,” he said.
“Do you wanna stay in here?”
His lips quirked upward. “That’s a stupid question.”
As he settled on his side of the bed, I watched him, trying to figure out if he was alright. In the dark, it was hard to tell. His voice sounded tired, though.
“Go to sleep,” I told him. “Do you work tomorrow?”
He shook his head before he laid it on the pillow. I settled on my side facing him, which had become a bit of a default position when he was here.
“It makes me wonder,” he murmured, “if people like me and Remi are doomed to be stuck in these cycles.”
“What cycles?”
“For him, abuse. For me”—he met my eyes—“loneliness.”
My gut twisted at the word. “I didn’t know you were lonely.”
“Probably cause I’m not when I’m with you.”
“Because of the crush?” I teased.
“Because of the way you look at me.”
I tried to ignore how it felt with his eyes on me. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“I notice things too, you know. Do you want me to tell you what I see?”
“I’d rather talk about you.”
“No.”
“Okay,” I whispered.
“You have friends, but you don’t spend a lot of quality time with them. Maybe some of them know about your situation at home, but you’re shackled by your pride, which tells me that it’s unlikely you’d share it with most people. You shared it with me, though.”
I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t fold that easily. Instead, I stared into his eyes, hoping he’d be the one to back down.
“You feel protective of me,” he went on.
“The only other time I’ve seen that look is when you talk about your family.
It wasn’t necessary for you to let me sleep in your bed, but you did.
When we left that party together, something in you visibly changed.
I’m not going to pick that apart because I don’t think that I need to. ”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because lately, when we’re near each other, you watch me.
You’re good at hiding the emotions on your face, but I can see them.
I see everything, Dean, and I’ve cataloged each one.
” He leaned closer, then stopped just in front of me.
“Protective, curious, and attracted to me. What would you call that?”
“Bullshit is what I’d call it.”
He breathed a laugh. I gritted my teeth when he reached forward to touch my chest.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ve spoken my truth, and I’ve given you a chance to speak yours. That’s all I needed, really.”
Even though his voice sounded nonchalant, his eyes fell to the mattress.
I threaded my fingers through his hair and tightened my grip. His lips parted as I tipped his head back.
“God, you’re . . .” I shook my head.
“What? Tell me what’s in that head of yours, you sexy bastard.”
“I don’t understand what you want here.”
“I want to know whether I should close this door. See, I just listened to my best friend tell me how he got hurt by the same asshole for the hundredth time, all because he’s so desperate to be loved that he can’t see what’s bad for him.
I’ve never been one to chase something that’s not meant for me, so if you want this door open, even just a crack, you have to tell me. ”
“No. I don’t want that.” I let go of his hair and dropped my hand to my side.
He nodded once and started to scoot backward, but I put a hand on his waist to stop him. His eyes lifted to meet mine, and I didn’t know what I felt. It made me not want to let him go knowing that this metaphorical door was about to be slammed in my face.
“I . . .”
“What is it?” he asked.
“I don’t know.”
“That sounds like a door that’s left a little bit open.”
“Maybe,” I muttered.
“Okay.”
“What does that mean?”
He wrapped his fingers around the back of my neck and pulled himself closer. My skin was on fire, more than it ever had been at a simple touch.
He was right; I felt protective of him. That was it. Somehow, it was playing with my emotions, but it didn’t mean anything. Not really.
“You should sleep on the couch with Remi,” I decided.
He blinked a few times as my words settled. I wondered if he was going to argue. My resolve felt thin, and I prayed that he would just listen to me.
It took a minute, but eventually he released me and got to his feet. My gaze followed him around the room. Every step. Every moment of hesitation. When he stopped at the door, my heart tried to evacuate through my throat.
“Goodnight, Broku.”
Once he was gone, I put a hand over my mouth. What just happened? There was no way I’d just admitted to possibly having feelings for Oliver goddamn Bennett.
With a groan, I grabbed my phone from the nightstand. It was late, and New Mexico was an hour ahead, but he might answer.
It rang almost to the end before the line clicked. “Hey, what’s up?”
The sound of my brother’s voice made my eyes close. Even though we weren’t all that close anymore, he’d helped raise me. When things were bad and I didn’t want to bother my parents, or if it was something I just didn’t want them to know, I called him. And he usually picked up.
“Just wanted to talk,” I replied. I kept my back to the door, but I couldn’t help but wonder if Oli could hear me. Dropping my voice lower, I pulled the blanket over my shoulder. “It’s been a while.”
“Adulthood, where we’re all busy and too exhausted to check in enough.” He chuckled, and I heard a door close on his end. “You been alright? Dad mentioned you’re living on your own now, or with a roommate or something.”
“Yeah, it’s cool. One step at a time, right? That’s what you always said when I was struggling.”
“Are you struggling?”
“No,” I said quickly. “Not any more than usual, at least. It’s just school and work and my social life, you know? They take a toll.”
“I feel that. Gotta say, I’m glad I didn’t go to college.”
“Now you just work in god-awful weather and go home with a sore back.”
“Not as much anymore. I’m supervising now.”
“Damn, really?”
“Yup. I’m thinking about starting my own business, actually. Being independent has its perks, and some of these guys are looking at getting out from under these big builders.”
“Wow. Good for you, Blake.”
“If you’re tired of classes, you could come work for me.”
I snorted. “That’s funny.”
“I’m serious. The money is damn good. Just imagine what we could do with the business. Kennedy Brothers Housing or some shit like that.”
With a laugh, I rolled onto my back. “It has a nice ring to it, but it’s not my dream.”
“Yeah, I know. When you’re done being a slave to your student loans, maybe you’ll hire me, though.”
“Only if you give me a big discount.”
He made a skeptical sound. “We’ll see.”
“I have a better idea. Build Mom and Dad a new house. Somewhere away from the city.”
There was silence on the other end, which made me close my eyes.
That was my goal, and I couldn’t imagine seeing it any other way.
One day, I’d get them out of the hole they’d been stuck in for so long.
Even if I had to sacrifice for a while, I’d make sure they got to relax after how much they’d put in for us.
All those hours that were destroying my mom’s body.
The pain my dad was in every day. The way they’d been screwed by broken systems that existed on false promises.
“Yeah, maybe I will,” he said after a while.
I wasn’t sure if he meant it, but it was better than nothing.
Now that we were talking, I didn’t want to bring up anything that was going on. I just wanted to have a conversation with my brother and shoot the shit. That was what I needed—a little slice of normalcy in this whirlwind I’d been swept up by in the past couple of months.
The whirlwind was still waiting out there, but right here, I was just Dean Kennedy. A simple, unassuming linebacker who didn’t stand out in any meaningful way because I didn’t want to.