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His heart began to thud so loud it was the only thing he could hear, and his face went hot all over.
Wren was signing enthusiastically with the bartender, not looking anywhere near Percy’s direction, so he contemplated sinking back into the shadows, but of course, he’d never had the best of luck. Just before he found a path to slip by, Wren dug his fingers into his hair and tilted his head to the side.
Their eyes locked.
Percy felt his fight or flight kick in—and as usual, flight was winning. But he was rooted by the spot by some unseen force, and then to his extreme horror, his feet started moving without his permission. Before he could do something absurd, like scream, he was at the bar just inches from Wren’s elbow.
‘What’s up?’ Wren signed, his middle finger dragging up the side of his chest.
Percy swallowed heavily, lifted his hands, then dropped them when they started to shake. Fucking hell, he was still so worked up.
Wren sighed and shook his head. “It’s too chaotic in here for me to hear properly, and Luke said you were making good progress. But if you’re still too embarrassed to sign in public…”
‘No,’ Percy signed, his fingers snapping against his thumb. ‘No. I…’ His hands began to shake harder, and his throat went hot and tight. ‘I’m sorry.’
Wren’s face morphed into concern when he realized why Percy was acting strange. ‘What’s wrong?’
Percy glanced over at his table of friends. Dan was missing, but Derek was staring at him. ‘I,’ he signed, his finger trembling just a little as he pointed to himself.
Before he could get anything else out, a firm, pressing arm wrapped around his middle, and his face went hot. “Excuse us,” Dan said, actually shouting. “This. One. Is. Mine.” He swayed, and the drink he was holding sloshed all over Percy’s front.
Percy froze completely. He couldn’t move other than to stumble back as Dan tugged on him a second time.
For a terrible, terrifying moment, Percy thought he was going to fall apart. To be completely helpless. Then Wren shot to his feet with a grin that should have chilled Percy down to his bones, and he reached out. His fingers curled around Dan’s wrist, and without any sort of obvious effort, he removed his grip on Percy.
“Actually, he and I were just leaving. Right, Perce?”
Percy nodded and looked back at Dan. “Have a good night.”
“Who the fuck do you?—”
“No,” Wren interrupted. “In fact, fuck no. We’re having zero conversation, friend. You shout at me like I’m a toddler, and then you put your hands on a man who clearly doesn’t want you near him. Fuck off to your table before I beat your face unrecognizable.”
“That’s a threat,” Dan growled.
Wren laughed, then offered his hand to Percy, who took it. “Good job. Don’t let anyone ever tell you that you’re completely obtuse.”
Percy was still shaking, but his legs moved more freely as Wren gently pulled him toward the exit. When they got to the gravel where his car was parked, Wren glanced over his shoulder, then tapped Percy on the arm.
“Do I need to stay and beat him unconscious?”
Percy laughed, and then, to his extreme horror, he burst into tears.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Sitting on Wren’s sofa, Percy held the cup of tea between both hands while ignoring his phone, which had been buzzing in his pocket nonstop. He knew it was Derek calling and text-bombing him, but Percy wasn’t going to talk about it. Not tonight, and maybe not ever.
Derek had been drunk, and while that might have excused him for not noticing what an absolute shit his friend was, Derek wasn’t drunk all the time. And he was actively friends with a person like Dan, which made Percy want to be sick all over his shoes.
How was his luck this terrible?
“Here.” The sound of Wren’s voice made him jump, and he nearly spilled his tea before Wren snatched it from his hands and replaced it with a T-shirt to replace the one Dan had spilled his drink on.
Percy glanced toward the door he knew led to the bathroom, but he didn’t want to get up.
“There’s nothing under that shirt I haven’t already seen,” Wren reminded him with a small grin. “Just take it off. I can wash it, or we can burn it. Whatever you want.”
Percy managed a small laugh as he quickly undid all the buttons and peeled it off his skin. He smelled like old alcohol, but the soft cotton of Wren’s worn tee was a balm against his skin. It smelled clean, sort of like laundry powder, and he wanted to hug it closer to his body, which was absurd, considering it was small enough to look painted on.
