Page 158 of Trust Me

“I heard you with Dad, you know. A week, Dean?” He held his hands up near his temples, looking frazzled. “Do you hear how insane that is?”

“You don’t know anything about him.”

“No, but I think he’s controlling. Maybe manipulative.”

It was impossible not to laugh. “Oli, controlling? That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Why the hell is he here?” he asked.

“Because he cares. Is that so hard to understand?”

“You can’t care that much after a week.”

“A week? That’s just how long we’ve been together. If we’re talking actual time we’ve been getting close, it’s more like two months.”

“Two months,” he repeated derisively. “Shit, I’m sorry. I take it all back now. Just tell me when the wedding is and I’ll bring the booze.”

With a growl, I paced closer to the water. “He got attached to me quickly, but the same happened to me. Like we built on each other’s feelings until it came to this.”

“That’s not healthy.”

“What do you know about it, huh, Blake?” Whirling on him, I stuffed my hands in my pockets to hide my anger. “You gonna give me some sage advice, even though you live alone and work more than you’re at home? You’re so quick to shit on how much Mom was gone, but you’re just as bad. At least she was doing it because she had to.”

“I work hard now so my future kids can actually have a parent,” he snapped. “One who shows up for them. Who’s in the front row when his son wins a spelling bee or their team wins their first game. For their goddamn birthdays, Christmas, trick or treating.”

“Good!” I shouted. “I’m glad you’re going to be the perfect fucking parent. Guess Mom should’ve prepared better for Dad to get injured and have their lives flipped upside down. Oh, wait. She couldn’t.”

“This isn’t going anywhere.”

He started walking away, so I stepped in front of him.

“Tell me you’re not a fucking bigot,” I said through gritted teeth.

“Is that what he told you?”

“No, I’m making goddamn inferences, Blake.”

His expression hardened. “Is that really what you think of me?” Shaking his head, he took a step back. “I want to make sure you don’t throw your life away for someone who clings to you like they can’t breathe otherwise. Seriously, Dean, you’re giving up football. For what? Some guy you barely know, who clearly wants to weasel his way into every part of your life.”

“That’s what you do when you care about someone!” Pursing my lips, I looked at the water. “It’s what you do when you want a future with them.”

“Two months, Dean. Come on.”

“Does it matter? It’s long enough for me to know who he is and what I want.”

“You sound like a child. ‘But dad, I love him!’” he mocked dramatically.

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you will. Just give it another, I don’t know—let’s call it a whole second week.”

As he started to walk away, I stared at his back. “I’m quitting football so I can work.”

He stopped, but he didn’t turn around. Dragging my toe along the shoreline, I took a breath.

“I made that choice before I even knew Oli. We were just in the same class, and I thought he was odd. He is odd. He gave me a room for cheap, even though he was just fine on his own.” One side of my mouth quirked upward a little. “He was a bit of a mess, and I thought I was teaching him things when I moved in. I’ll admit, I thought I knew better than him in some ways. But really, he was teaching me the whole time. He taught me how to slow down and enjoy the little, insignificant things around me.

“Maybe he clings to me and got attached too fast,” I admitted. “And conventionally, maybe that isn’t a good thing. But that man . . . He’s never had anyone except his best friend. Not one fucking person, Blake. So what if he jumped in the deep end? I chose to jump in alongside him, and whether you like it or not, that’s where I’m choosing to be, right there in that water where he feels at home.”