Page 95 of Trust Me

Chapter 26

Dean

Twelve. That was how many times Oli had slept in my bed now.

We hadn’t really talked about it. It wasn’t that big of a deal, but it also wasn’t exactly normal.

What was less normal was that I hadn’t slept well last night, which happened to be the first night I’d slept alone all week. I’d gotten home late from work and he’d already been settled on the couch. He looked at me, and I looked at him, but I decided it was time to cut that cord. So, I went to bed by myself.

Remi told me I looked tired today, and a couple other people had asked if I was okay. I wanted to blame something else. Anything else. When I tried to come up with an excuse, there was just nothing that stuck.

I opened the front door, unable to suppress my sigh. Too tired to give a shit, I tossed my keys on the counter and kicked my shoes off in the entryway. Maybe I was adopting his messy habits. He tried to clean up more because he thought it bothered me, which it sort of did, but I was getting used to it.

Clearly, he was a terrible influence, yet I kept stepping closer instead of backing away.

I expected Oli to pop his head up, but the couch was empty. With a frown, I looked toward the bathroom. The door was open and the light was off. He was probably on the balcony.

Resisting the urge to check on him, I headed into my room. It was only ten, but I was exhausted from my restless night, so I stripped out of my shirt and pants, then dropped into my bed. When I rolled over, I ran into a body.

“Jesus,” I exclaimed.

“Sorry,” Oli mumbled.

I propped myself on an elbow and looked down at him. He was bundled in the blanket, which was pulled up to his nose. With the way his waves fell over his forehead, he sort of looked like he was wearing one of those ninja masks. All I could see were his eyes, and even in the darkness, they stood out like shards of kryptonite.

“I figured you were on the balcony,” I said.

He shook his head, still holding the blanket to his face. I scooted closer, lowering my cheek to the pillow. Like this, I could feel the heat from his body. My knee bumped his, and my heart pounded when he hooked his foot over my ankle before I could pull back.

“You’re quiet,” I said.

“Mm.”

“Oli. Talk to me.”

“Why?”

“Because, against all odds and everything holy, I’m worried about you.”

“I feel like an asshole.”

The way he blurted it was so sudden, I raised my brows. “You’re the furthest thing from an asshole.”

“I knew I had a thing for you when I offered you the room.”

“And?”

“And what? That’s a dick move. I feel like I dragged you into this.”

“What is this? So you have a crush on me. It’s all good, man.”

“If you want to move out, I won’t stop you.” The words rushed out of his mouth so fast, I barely had time to process them. “I’ve been expecting you to do it this entire time anyway, especially after how much I’ve screwed up. Besides—”

I gripped his jaw tightly, and he stopped talking. I didn’t know if he moved closer or I did, but my face was only a foot from his as I drew in a long breath.

“If you don’t stop making assumptions . . .”

“Then what?” he asked.