Page 2 of Trust Me

“Let’s make a bet about how long it takes them to kiss. Loser buys dinner.”

Dean didn’t say anything. It was a joke, which he clearly didn’t find funny. I wondered if he disliked me for some reason. I didn’t really know why, but sometimes people just didn’t click, I guess.

Pulling back, I watched as Brooks and Tilian laid on the bed. They were smoking, and when Dean took the dab pen they offered, I assumed we weren’t going to be doing any more brainstorming, so I got to my feet.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

I froze, feeling like I’d been caught. It was the bass in his voice—not necessarily commanding, but to anyone who used to listen for the sound of footsteps and could recognize who they belonged to, it was enough to turn a man to stone.

Reminding myself that he was just Dean, I smiled. “Going home. Unless there’s more to do right now.”

He glanced at the others, but they were still talking softly. After a second, he held the pen toward me. “Want a hit?”

“Nah, I don’t smoke. Thanks, though.”

“Alright. See you in class next week.”

“For sure. See ya, Brooks, Tilian.”

Tilian’s blond head popped up. Characteristically, he blushed a little, then smiled. “See ya.”

He was so awkward, yet Brooks was incredibly forward. They would just be so damn right together.

Without another word, I left the room. Once the door clicked behind me, I pulled out my phone and read a text.

Remi: Dating = I’d rather die

Me: That makes no sense, bro

Remi: It sucks. Not a fun time. I’m too old for this shit

Me: You’re twenty-seven

Remi: Exactly. Cheer me up. I’ll be at your place in ten

With a sigh that was also kind of a laugh, I twirled my keys around my finger.

Needy bastard.

*****

“I have an idea,” I said around the piece of sushi I’d shoved in my mouth. “Stop being so picky.”

Remi turned to face me on the couch with a look of pure exasperation. “Stop being so picky, huh? You’ve never dated men, so you have no idea what’s out there.”

“Nah, but I’ve been around men and I am a man. It sounds like a nightmare. Women aren’t much better, though.”

“Aren’t they supposed to be?”

I laughed. “I don’t think they’re supposed to be anything in particular. I don’t really date, so I probably can’t speak from either side.”

With a huff, he set his tray on the coffee table and leaned back. As I studied him, I noticed that he looked more tired than the last time I’d seen him. His hair was down, and it fell just slightly past his jaw. Even though it looked clean, he usually styled it so it wouldn’t get in his face. Maybe he’d taken it down after the date. I might have believed it if his eyes didn’t look somewhat dull. And there were dark circles beneath them.

Hmm.

“How’s the bar?” I asked.

“Really good.”