Page 79 of Trust Me

Chapter 22

Oliver

The drive home felt slow, but it was probably just my nerves. Nothing had happened, yet it felt like something had. It was in Dean’s demeanor, in the way he spoke and looked at me, the way he’d gripped my hand as we raced out of that party. It was like we were running toward something—the stars themselves, maybe—but now I wasn’t sure.

I wouldn’t let my mind run off with ideas. Those were ridiculous, and I already allowed myself too much daydreaming on the best of days.

As soon as I parked, I jumped out of the car, not giving myself a second to think. I opened Dean’s door, and he grumbled about it. I wanted to help him, but he wasn’t hammered. Just a little drunk. Enough to sway slightly and complain about the stairs, as if he was being asked to run the football field.

Without a word, he veered toward the bathroom. I wondered if he felt sick. Was it a nice gesture to be there for support if he was? I’d handled Remi’s bouts of irresponsible behavior, but I was far from an expert.

I’d just check on him. Just to be sure.

“Dean,” I called. I rapped on the door, but he didn’t respond, which made my heart rate spike. “Dean, you okay?”

I opened the door at the exact moment that he leaned over to turn on the shower. Bare freaking naked.

“Shit,” I muttered, stepping back.

He whirled around with wide eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Checking on you.” I looked away, considering whether it was weird to just close my eyes entirely.

“Oh, okay. I’m just gonna shower. I could’ve sworn I said that.” He sounded casual, unbothered, even as he stood there with his entire dick out.

“You didn’t. Have fun with that.”

Closing the door behind me, I ignored the little voice that asked if it was safe for him to do that right now. I didn’t need to protect Dean, but he was more vulnerable than usual right now. It sort of felt like our roles had reversed. I didn’t mind, but it didn’t feel natural, whereas he seemed to fall right into his protective state without question.

I, on the other hand, was questioning everything.

While I sat on the couch, I chewed on my thumb nail. When it cracked, I didn’t pause. My teeth had a vendetta against the damn thing at this point.

The shower shut off, bringing me back to reality. I didn’t know how long it had been. I also didn’t know if it was weirder if I did. If I started tracking Dean’s shower time, I’d know that I’d officially cracked.

The door swung open to the living room, and he waltzed out wearing a towel around his waist. He could’ve gone directly into his room, but he hadn’t. His eyes landed on me, and a light smile lit up his face.

“So, that was awkward, huh?”

I tried to stay casual. “Was it?” Lifting one shoulder, I rolled my ankle idly. “Not the first dick I’ve seen.” Like a weirdo, I gestured at my own.

To my horror, his eyes followed the motion. “Yeah, same.”

“Oh?”

He ran a hand through his hair, and I watched some drops of water slide down his forehead. “Been playing sports my whole life. Comes with the territory.”

“Sure does. Dudes on the swim team were almost too comfortable stripping right in your face.”

“Sounds like a hard time.”

The joke helped me relax a little as I chuckled. In the silence that followed, I wasn’t sure what to do. Apparently, neither was he, because he offered me an awkward smile before he turned and walked into his room without a word.

I tilted my head back to stare at the ceiling, but then I heard him swear. Loudly. Without even thinking about it, I jumped to my feet and rushed after him.

“What happened?”

He looked at me from his place on the bed. He had his knee bent and his foot on the edge. Thankfully, he was wearing shorts now, so I didn’t get a full-frontal view of his gooch.