Page 91 of Trust Me

Chapter 25

Oliver

When I opened the door, I was struck by the scent of food. Immediately, my stomach growled like a ferocious bear. I put a hand over it as I walked into the kitchen, only to find exactly what I dreamed about. Literally. I’d dreamed about Dean last night, even as I slept right next to him.

Yeah. Again.

“Testing your skills?” I asked as I leaned against the fridge.

He glanced at me only briefly before he refocused on the cutting board. There was a small orange pepper there that made my brows raise. The only reason I was familiar with it was because I worked at a grocery store. I’d never been brave enough to handle something like a habanero.

“I’ve been practicing,” he replied after he put the knife in the sink.

“Does that make me your guinea pig?”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “If you don’t mind.”

“Anything for you, Broku. I’d rather take the L than make your parents try an untested dish.”

“Yeah, that would be embarrassing.”

“I’m sure they’d be proud of you regardless.”

“Unless it killed them.”

“Hey, friend. Remember that negativity thing we talked about?”

His smile deepened, although I didn’t think he was aware of it. There was such a fond expression on his face when he talked about his family. I enjoyed it even more when he was actually on the phone with them. It had been an effort not to be obvious about the way I’d watched him, especially when I heard about his mom’s new job.

I’d have to send Dr. Matteo a thank you note or something.

I nodded toward the pepper on the cutting board. “Don’t touch your face after that.”

“Good looking out.”

“I’m gonna hit the shower.”

“Alright, it should be ready in an hour.”

I watched him for another second, enjoying the way he was locked in. He seemed a little lost but not incompetent.

With a yawn, I stripped out of my shirt on my way to the bathroom. I tossed it into the basket that stood in the corner, then closed the door most of the way, leaving it cracked slightly. For a second, I stared at myself in the mirror. I looked tired, and I decided it was probably best if I didn’t stay up too late tonight. Dean didn’t work, so I wouldn’t need to wait up.

Once I was in the shower, I ran my fingers through my hair. They got caught in some of the waves, making me hiss.

God, it would be nice to have someone to comb their fingers through it for me. Maybe even wash it. That sounded romantic as hell.

I’d never had much intimacy, even in my adult life. Meaningless interactions weren’t my thing, and I’d seen too many people fall victim to the wrong partners.

Like Remi. He had been burned so many times, I was surprised he didn’t have scars to prove it. Not for the first time, I wished he’d let me vet the people in his life. He was just terrible at connecting with the right ones, and somehow, he never seemed to learn.

Hopping out of the shower, I grabbed a new towel from under the sink. I couldn’t even lie; seeing them neatly stacked had a sort of aesthetic to it that felt nice, like I had my life in order.

Realizing I hadn’t brought a change of clothes, I wrapped the towel around my waist and left the bathroom. Before I made it to the closet, I heard Dean swear in the kitchen. Something clattered, so I rushed in that direction.

“What happened?” I demanded.

He had his hands hovering in front of his eyes, which were squeezed shut. When he tried to open them, they fluttered, and I saw that they were red and watery.