“The hell you don’t!” Olly shouts, frustration clear on his face. I flinch at the volume. I’ve never seen him this upset. I mean, we bicker… a lot, but I’ve never seen him as angry as he is right now.
He softens his tone. “You don’t have to take risks all the time Jasper, please…I’ll stay with you.”
I need to take the risks. Something they will never understand. Somethinghewill never understand. None of it matters because, deep down, I know he’s right. Olly will always be right. Feel right.
Fine.
“Okay,” I say, hopping off the table, playing it cool even as I wobble on my feet. I’m ready to fucking leave.
Jaxon stops me. “I don’t want to see you back here for at least three days,” he says before giving me a hug.
Awkward.
“Jaxon, I’m fine. Really. I just didn’t get a lot of sleep the last few nights.” I should have stayed home.
“Fine, two days. I don’t want to see your ass back here for two days.”
I guess it’s better than three.
“Okay, fine, two days,” I concede. “But everyone loves my ass. It will be missed!”
“I’m parked out back,” Olly says, coming up beside me as I grab my jacket. My baby. My prized possession.
I blow out a breath. “Okay, Olly, let’s go.”
This is going to be a long night.
Ipacebackandforth across Jasper’s apartment, stopping occasionally to watch his chest for the rise and fall, making sure he’s still breathing.
I know I’m being a little dramatic, but he hit his head. Concussions can be a serious thing. I see him shift out of the corner of my eye. He’s been asleep for about an hour and a half. According to Dr. Google, I am supposed to wake him up every two hours. And I should really do what Dr. Google says.
“Olly, if you continue to pace back and forth in my living room, you’re going to make me vomit. You need to stop moving. My head is throbbing.”
“Oh shit, I read you might have a headache. Let me get you something for the pain.” I don’t wait for a response, just head into the bathroomand check out the medicine cabinet where I saw a bottle of pain medicine earlier. Yes, I may have snooped when I was using the restroom.
“Olly.” I jump, almost dropping the bottle. “I thought we were supposed to stay off of Dr. Google,” he says of the running joke.
“It was my only option. I don’t know of any doctors I can call and ask.” Jasper sways on his feet and I reach out to steady him. “What are you doing up? You should be relaxing. Plus, you could’ve fallen.”
“I’m a big boy, Olly, and I need to take a piss.”
“Oh, right, of course,” I say, then just stand there awkwardly.
“Do you maybe want to move, Olly?” He inches closer. “I mean, unless it’s your kink and you wanna watch.”
I practically choke on my tongue. “What? No, that’s not my kink. I don’t have a kink… I don’t think.” Jasper chuckles.
“To me, it sounds like you haven’t tried enough.”
“Yeah.” I give an awkward laugh. I can’t believe we are having a conversation about my kinks…. or lack thereof.
“Hey, Olly, you gonna move?”
“Shit. Of course.” I suck in my gut and slide past him. “I’ll grab you a glass of water to take these pills with while you take care of business.” My eyes widen in horror at the words tumbling out of my mouth. Oh, my God, this is all sorts of awkwardness.What the fuck?
I head into the kitchen, trying to compose myself as I grab a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and set it with the medicine next to the couch. Last night, I’d tried to convince him to take the bed while I would sleep on the couch. It’s a studio apartment. I can see him from anywhere. But he refused. Something about me working and standing all day. It sounded like a groggy mumble, and it was late, so I didn’t argue.
The canvas in the corner of the room catches my eye, much like it has all evening. I make my way over, finally giving in. It’s stunning. The colors are muted, almost like they are fading away, mixing with the black and gray. The painting is of a man standing in a puddle laughing, but in the reflection is the same man with tears cascading down his cheeks, almost as if he is creating the pool beneath his feet. I hear the door open as Jasper comes out of the bathroom, his jeans slung low on his hips, feet bare, and the shirt he’s wearing sits just above his waistline, showing off a sliver of skin. My breath hitches in my throat and I swallow thickly. He eyes me wearily.
