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He rolls his eyes, “Why isn’t he your boyfriend. He seemed pretty… territorial.”
I freeze. “Um… What?”
Dean’s brows lift like he’s hinting at something.
“How did he seem territorial?” I pry.
It’s my neighbor’s turn to look embarrassed, “Just his mannerisms, I guess.”
I chew on my lip, wanting to ask more, but pretty sure it’d just make us both uncomfortable. So instead, I turn on the steamer and let the hissing noise fill the room as I heat up some milk.
Territorial. Hmm…
I want to know the exact details of their encounter. Because then I can sift through those details with my overthinking fine-toothed comb and decide if Axel has feelings for me too?
But since I won’t ask, I’ll just have to stew. Wondering if I’m reading into something that means nothing. Or maybe Dean read the scene wrong, and Axel was just being himself. Which is highly likely, since Axel would’ve been tired. And probably cranky since I left him with an unattended hard-on when I selfishly fell asleep.
I would’ve returned the favor, even though Axel had been pretty adamant about us not doing anything. I remember that much. It’s the random fuzzy bits I don’t recall clearly, but of course I remember using him like my own personal vibrator. And I remember the size of him when I tried to wrap my fingers around his fat dick.
My blush deepens with embarrassment, followed by worry.
Did my behavior with him cross from inappropriate into predator territory?
The steamer stops and I let my thoughts roll over in the silence as I combine the espresso, spices and milk.
Fortifying myself, I carry Dean’s drink over and set it on the counter between us. “Can I ask you something?”
He tips his chin down, “You know you can.”
“Okay.” I stare at him and feel my entire body flush. “Okay. Um…”
“Mads, do you forget what I do for a living? Literally nothing you can ask me would be worse than some of the literal shit I have to see some days.”
“Yeah, okay.” I lift my hands and hold them over my eyes, so I don’t have to look at him while I ask this.
“Oh my god, what are you doing?” He laughs.
“Shut up, I need to do it this way.” Dean snorts but doesn’t object further so I keep going. “Hypothetically,” I say, even though we both know this isn’t hypothetical, “say you meet a girl. You’re sober, she’s drunk, and you go back to her place.” I press my palms harder against my eyes. “And you agree to just… rest… in bed. And you’re vocal that nothing can happen because she’s been drinking. But then you start making out and she… um… then she grabs your… thing. Would that be bad?”
Dean doesn’t reply.
Nothing.
Silence.
Slowly I lower my hands and find him staring at me wide eyed, his cheeks turning red.
“I knew it! It’s bad, right?!” My chest starts to hurt at the thought of causing Axel any sort of distress. “Oh my god. I’m the worst human ever!”
Dean shakes his head, “It’s not that.” His words are choked and I’m about to ask him what he’s talking about when his gaze darts to the side.
Slowly, so slowly, with all the color draining from my face, I turn and find my 17-year-old employee, Griff, standing just a few feet away, grinning.
“Damn, Boss! You had yourself a weekend.”
I spin back to my neighbor, “Dean!”
He throws his hands up, “Sorry! I thought you knew he was here!”
