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“Willow,” Liam groaned at that one.
“No,” Ollie replied. “I wouldn’t last a day in jail. I’d drop the soap and get rammed.” He gestured crudely with his hips and I lost it laughing. Dean looked torn between laughing and hauling me out of there.
“Okay, you’re cool. I rest my case.” I let my interrogation drop—question wise, at least. I’d still be watching Ollie closely.
Dinner went smoothly from that point on and I found that I actually really liked Ollie. He was odd, to say the least, but a nice person.
Before heading back to Liam’s house, he had to drop Ollie off at his. He lived in a small little bungalow—shack might be more appropriate because the place was that small—and I had to grin at the VW van parked outside. It suited Ollie completely.
When we made it back up the cliff to Liam’s house, it was after nine, which would typically be early, but I was exhausted and I was sure Dean was too.
Liam seemed to sense this, because when we got out of the car he told us to grab our things and he’d show us our rooms.
Rooms. Like with an s.
I was going to end up kicking him in the shin. I could feel it.
Once we had our stuff we followed Liam inside and up the stairs, down a hallway past several rooms with closed doors.
Stopping in front of one door, Liam slung it open and snapped his fingers at Dean. “Your room. And yours is this way.” He pointed at me to keep following.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” I cried, not moving.
“Willow,” Dean muttered, probably fearing I was about to get in a fight with my cousin.
“I’m an adult,” I told Liam, crossing my arms over my chest. “If I want to sleep in the same bed as my boyfriend I can and I will.” I stuck my chin in the air, daring him to force me into another room.
Liam eyed me in a calculating way and I knew I wasn’t going to like what he had to say.
“I wonder what your dad would think of you two sleeping in the same bed? Hmmm?” He mused, glancing from me to Dean and back again.
I deflated like an old balloon. “You’d tell him, wouldn’t you?”
“In a heartbeat.” Liam grinned, knowing he had me.
“Ugh, I hate you.” I stormed past him, purposely bumping his shoulder with mine.
Childish? Yes. But I was mad.
“Actually, it’s that way.” Liam pointed down the other hall.
I glared at him and turned, heading the way he pointed.
Liam laughed behind me. I couldn’t help feeling like this was partly punishment for me asking about his drinking. I was worried though. I didn’t want to see Liam go down the path of alcoholism.
Liam opened the door for me and I stepped inside with a dramatic huff, dropping my duffle bag and backpack down on the wood floors. The room was painted a pale green with black and white pictures of the beach, ocean, and seashells on the wall. I was sure Liam had taken them, but I was currently too mad to take a moment to appreciate them.
I sat on the bed, running my fingers over the white linen.
“Goodnight.” Liam sang with a grin and closed the door.
“You better sleep with one eye open!” I yelled after him.
He merely laughed.
I collapsed on the bed, my hair fanning around me. “Goodnight, Dean,” I whispered at the ceiling and closed my eyes, wishing I heard his familiar, “G’night, Willow.”
Dean
