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Samuel: I mean, maybe I haven’t been clear, so here it is
Samuel: You’re amazing and I want to spend more time with you, in a non-work kind of way
There was another ten minute break between texts. It could have been a coincidence, or maybe it was Roan trying to craft an excuse.
Finally — finally! — he put this asshole in his place.
Roan: That’s really nice and you’re great, but I’m seeing someone
Samuel: I KNEW that guy wasn’t your cousin
Roan: No, it’s not him
Samuel: Who?
Roan: It’s better if I don’t say
Samuel: Why not?
Roan: I don’t want either of us to get in trouble
Samuel: WTF would you get in trouble for?
Roan: It’s complicated
Samuel: If you’re not interested, just say it. You don’t need to try and make me feel better by making up a fake boyfriend
Roan: Trust me, I’m not making him up
Samuel: Then who is it?
Roan: You know the investor guy? With all the tattoos?
Samuel: Yeah
Roan: It’s him
Samuel: WTF?????
Samuel: You’re joking right???
Roan: No
Samuel: You and Ivan Drago??? I don’t buy it
Roan apparently felt the need to prove it, so he sent a picture. I had no idea when the hell it was from, but I was going to fucking kill him.
It was us, of course, but I was fuckingasleep! My cheek was pressed against his bare chest and my arm was slung across his stomach. It was clear I was also shirtless, from the amount of tattoos visible on the upper part of my body. His nose was buried in my hair, his lips pressed to the very top of my forehead.
At least I wasn’t fucking drooling in the picture, but I didn’t look scary in the slightest. Aside from my size, there was nothing about that picture that told Samuel he’d barked up the wrong tree. Of course he hadn’t backed off! The sleeping version of me wasn’t a threat at all! I looked… ugh. Peaceful.
Roan followed up the picture with another text.
Roan: You can’t tell anyone
Samuel: Yeah
Roan: I’m serious! NO ONE can know
