Page 53 of Trust Me

He did it without question. I didn’t know if he was too trusting or simply didn’t care to hide anything.

Checking the date on the bill, I searched all of his transactions from that day forward. There were so many of them, it took me a godawful amount of time. He spent a lot of money. Most people seemed to blow their cash on trivial shit like booze, food delivery, OnlyFans, coffee, and the like. Oli, on the other hand, bought the type of things that went on his shelves. And a lot of them weren’t cheap.

“God, Oli.”

He scooted closer. “It’s bad.”

“Oh, so you know it.”

He scrunched his nose. “It could be worse.”

“How?”

“Cocaine.”

I laughed, even though it was hard to find it funny. Grabbing one of the envelopes, I took the pen I’d been using to do homework and started scrawling numbers as I scrolled through his account. Next, I continued through the entire stack of mail, jotting down pertinent information before organizing it into piles. When I finished, I let out a heavy sigh.

“In the past two months, you’ve paid ninety dollars in overdraft fees,” I said, tapping the number with my pen.

“Damn. I didn’t even know.”

“You have two overdue bills. Seventy-three dollars total. You’ve paid almost sixty in late fees, and that’s just on the bills that sent you payment confirmations in the mail. I’m willing to bet there are more that are paperless. Do you know how much you’ve spent on non-essentials from what I can see here?”

“A hundred?” he guessed with a grimace.

“No.”

“One-fifteen.”

“Four hundred and twenty.”

“Your favorite number.”

I couldn’t smile at the joke, and after a second, he became serious.

“That’s not terrible,” he said, although it was clear he didn’t even believe his own words.

“Oli—”

He let out a wispy breath, making me stop talking.

“What was that for?”

“Just the way you say that,” he replied easily.

“Your name?” He nodded. “Why would you like the way I say your name?”

“I’m attracted to you.”

My eyes widened. For a second, I just sat silently, then I cleared my throat. “That’s . . . Okay.”

“Don’t worry, Broku. I’m just communicating, not flirting.”

Was this what whiplash felt like? I was just going to chalk it up to the weed.

“Anyway,” I went on, “you could be saving a bunch of money.”

“But I wouldn’t have all those.” He gestured toward his shelf. It was definitely fuller than when I’d moved in.