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Owen yelps across the room. “Christian!”
“Stay out of this, Owen.”
Devon’s breath hitches in surprise, hands coming up to scrabble at my shoulders. “Move.”
“No.”
The glare he gives me nearly makes me shiver. “Let me go.”
“No,” I repeat. “You’re not leaving like this. You can hate me tomorrow but tonight, you sit your stubborn ass down to sober up.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then I’ll drag you back to the couch again and fucking sit on you all night.”
A myriad of emotion ripples across his features—humiliation, humor, relief. “You’re an asshole,” he whispers, swallowing hard.
My gaze drops to watch his throat flex before I study the way he licks at the cut on his swollen lip. “Yeah. So are you. We gonna have a problem or not?”
His eyes bounce between mine for a silent moment before he looks away. “Whatever. I'll sleep on your dumb couch, just let me go.”
Hesitating for half a second, I finally step back and lower my arm from his chest.
He stumbles immediately, catching himself on the wall with a grunt before scowling at me like it’s my fault gravity exists. When he shoulders past and hobbles toward the couch with all the grace of a disgruntled kitty cat, I almost laugh. It'd be cute if I weren't so pissed at him.
“You suck,” he mutters, dropping onto the couch cushions.
“Pretty sure that was you, pastelito,” I say flatly, unsure why those words come out of my mouth. In all honesty, I've done my best to put Ohio and the tour last year out of my memory.
He just flips me off over his shoulder without speaking.
“Uh…” Owen hovers near the doorway awkwardly. “Do you want some water? Or something to eat?”
“I’m fine,” Devon snaps.
“No, you’re not.” Sauntering over to grab the icepack off the floor, I wrap it back up in a towel. “Keep this on your bruises tonight and leave my roommate alone.”
He cracks one eye open as I kneel in front of him, lifting his shirt. “What happened to Taylor?”
“Moved out.”
When I press the ice to his skin without warning, he gasps. “Fuck, that's cold.”
“Stop being dramatic, asshole.”
His muscles tighten under my hands, and silence stretches between us thickly. Eventually, he lifts his fingers to brush a gentle touch over my temple. “You're bleeding,” he murmurs.
I flinch at the twinge of pain that shoots through my skull. “Fuck, I didn't notice. Those fuckers got some good hits in, but I was too busy worrying about your dumb ass.”
“I’m gonna, uh…” Owen clears his throat before retreating into the room. “Goodnight.”
It isn't until the door closes that I finally look at Devon’s face.
His stubbled jaw tightens. “You didn’t have to pay that money.”
Sighing through my nostrils, I just grab his hand and place it over the icepack before getting to my feet. “I know. Get some sleep and don't die on my couch.”
As I turn toward the hallway, intent on taking a hot shower to ease my own aches, his voice stops me.
