Page 28 of Chasing After You

“Here ya go,” I said, placing the cup on the table gently. “It’s a red velvet frappe, extra whipped cream.”

“Oh my god, Josh, that sounds heavenly,” he moaned, not hesitating even a second to pick up his cup and take a sip. “Wow. This is so fucking good!”

I smiled bashfully, my face pink from his praise and genuine enjoyment of one of my creations. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Do you want me to stay again tomorrow?” Oliver asked after a few more sips.

“Yes,” I said immediately. “Yeah. I do.”

“Then I’ll be here,” he promised. “And if he walks in, I won’t let him corner you. Or get in your head.”

“You’re the best. Thank you.”

“Hey, it’s what best friends are for, right?”

“Oh… You consider me your best friend?” I stammered, “I mean—I do. I consider youmybest friend. But you have Lane.”

Oliver looked at me fondly. “I can have two best friends. So, yeah, you’re one of them.”

“Oh, wow. Thank you,” I said, happily surprised. I’d never expected to be held in the same regard as I had Oliver. I just assumed he would always mean more to me than I to him.

I walked back to the counter with a giddy look on my face.

I was Oliver’s best friend.

I’d never been that important to someone before.

It felt so nice.

8

Josh

I was due in at Wild Roast at noon. I woke up later than usual, had a long, indulgent shower, and took my time getting dressed. I felt oddly at peace.

It was funny because, as far as I knew, I could be dead by the evening.

Or irreparably emotionally damaged.

The anxiety that had made its home inside my chest still lingered, but was noticeably much quieter as I went about my morning. For breakfast, I fried a few eggs, zoning out as they popped and sizzled in the pan. A shot of espresso went down easily.

I was actually a little excited.

Part of me wanted to throw myself at Dorian, to tell him that I’d want nothing more than to be his brother again. But Ihad learned long ago to keep my expectations low, bottle up any excitement so that I wouldn’t be too disappointed later when things inevitably didn’t go the way I’d hoped.

And so, I left my fate up to Dorian.

From the very first time I had seen him, I knew that I’d do anything and everything to make him happy. Maybe that was why I was uncharacteristically calm today. Whether he screamed and berated me, cursed me, hit me, killed me, cried in my arms, told me that he loved me, laughed with joy with me, I would accept it.

If he needed to hit me with his car or if he needed me to turn myself in for his father’s murder—anything, I would go along with it for him.

I just hoped I could make him happy.

That’s all I’d ever wanted.

“Are you high?”

I turned away from my breakfast, taking in Hudson’s tall form in the kitchen’s doorway. He had an eyebrow raised as he leaned against the door frame.