Page 15 of Chasing After You (Twisted Desires #3)

Josh

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Oliver asked from his spot on the guest room’s bed. He hugged one of the pillows to his chest as he watched me pack.

“Yeah, of course.” I shoved my clean clothes from the laundry basket into my duffel bag.

I didn’t have much to pack, since I’d only brought the essentials to Oliver’s.

“Besides, I’m sure Hayes and Hudson want me out anyway,” I laughed, thinking of how they’d been getting increasingly frustrated that I was always around, cockblocking them.

“I’m just worried,” he sighed. “Wouldn’t it be better to stay here for a few more days at least?”

“Why? Gonna miss me?” I grinned.

Oliver huffed. “Well, yeah. But I’m more concerned about the whole stalker thing. The stalker whom you had one conversation with and determined that he’s no longer a problem.”

“Dorian’s just… a little intense. He didn’t mean me any harm. He’s always been a bit different. And he promised he’d stop with the stalking. We even texted a little yesterday and made a plan to hang out on Wednesday night.”

“In public, right?”

I rolled my eyes, although it always felt nice when Oliver worried for me. “I don’t know, we haven’t talked about what we’re doing yet. Just that he’ll meet me at Wild Roast so that we can hang out right after my shift.”

“I don’t trust him,” he confessed.

“I don’t either, but he’s my little brother, Ollie. My only family. Now that I know he doesn’t hate me, I’m all for trying to rebuild the relationship.”

“I know… I just… I got a weird vibe from him. I think you need to be careful.”

“He’s always been a little weird. I’m sure it’ll be fine,” I maintained. “I don’t think it’s right to judge him badly just because of that.”

Oliver’s brow wrinkled. “But I saw how he looked at you. It didn’t seem very… brotherly. What if he’s like… you know…”

“No, I don’t know. What if he’s what? And I don’t like you insinuating that kind of stuff about him.”

“What if he’s like my guys?” Oliver asked, wringing his hands in front of the pillow.

I stopped packing and sat down on the edge of the bed. “What if he is?”

“Why aren’t you concerned about this?”

“Because he’s my brother.”

“But he’s not really—”

“Ollie,” I scolded. “I don’t want to hear that again.

I know you’re just worried about me, but stop assuming the worst about him.

You don’t know him like I do. You don’t know him at all.

You defend Hayes and Hudson, always saying that they shouldn’t be judged on how their brains are wired.

I don’t know if Dori is like them. I don’t think he is.

But even if he is, he’s still my precious baby brother. ”

“He stalked you, Josh,” he stressed.

“And your husbands kidnapped you and kill people in their basement.”

Oliver went quiet at that, his mouth snapping shut with an audible click. He looked away, hugging the pillow tighter, like he wished it could swallow him whole.

I sighed, running a hand through my short hair. “I’m sorry. That was… a low blow.”

“No,” he mumbled. “It’s fine. You’re right.”

I stood again, going back to my packing, folding the last of my shirts and stuffing them on top of my charger and toothbrush case. “Look, I’m not saying I trust Dorian completely. But I want to. It doesn’t have to be so complicated.”

Oliver made a soft sound. “But it is complicated, Josh.”

I zipped up the duffel bag. “Yeah. I know.”

He finally looked up again, his eyes soft and worried. “Promise me you’ll be careful?”

“I promise,” I said. “And if he says or does anything that makes me uncomfortable, I’ll walk away. I won’t let myself get hurt.”

Oliver’s frown deepened. “You always let yourself get hurt. That’s why I’m worried. You give too much of yourself to everyone around you, even if they don’t deserve it.”

I laughed, slinging the bag over my shoulder. “Maybe. But I’m getting better at not letting that happen.”

I stopped in the doorway and looked back at him. “Thank you for letting me stay here. You didn’t have to do all this. Really.”

“I wanted to,” he said quietly. “You know you always have a place here.”

“Yeah,” I smiled. “I know.”

* * *

The elevator ride up to my floor felt longer than usual, like the building was holding its breath along with me. I hadn’t stepped foot in my apartment in weeks. I half-expected something to be flooded or on fire when I opened the door.

But when I pushed the door open, it was… fine.

Besides the plant I’d forgotten about on the windowsill. That was definitely dead.

My apartment was small, but tidy. There were a few dishes in the sink that had a slightly musty smell.

A hoodie with my college’s baseball team logo hung over the back of the couch where I’d left it.

The bed was unmade as it always was. I walked in slowly, setting my bag down just inside the door, toeing off my sneakers beside it.

After briefly scanning the room, I sighed. I flopped onto my couch, grabbing a throw blanket and wrapping it around myself.

I should’ve felt safer now. I should’ve been glad to be back in my own space.

But the strange thing was… I missed the noise of Oliver’s place.

The thrum of the twins moving around upstairs.

The smell of breakfast coffee already brewing when I woke up.

The feeling of someone always being nearby.

Even the sarcastic comments that were aimed at me.

Now, I was alone again.

I stared up at the ceiling and wondered what Dorian was doing right now. What did he do in his free time? Did he still like watching movies?

My phone buzzed next to me.

Dori ?? :

Did you get home safely?

Me :

Yep, all good.

Dori ?? :

Great.

Can’t wait to see you on Wednesday.

Me :

Same.

Did you have anything specific you wanted to do?

Dori ?? :

Anything.

Just need to be with you.

I swallowed hard before shaking my head to rid myself of any wayward thoughts.

Me :

Sounds good. We can decide that night.

I’m going to get some rest. You should too.

Dori ?? :

Sleep well, big bro.

I set the phone down on the coffee table, face down, like turning it over would turn my brain off, too.

The silence in the apartment suddenly felt louder than I remembered.

Every creak and hum pressed into my skin, reminding me how long it had been since I’d spent a night here alone.

I got up to lock the deadbolt and double-check the chain.

Then I wandered into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water, which I barely sipped.

I rustled around in the cabinets, hating myself for forgetting to stop by a grocery store on the drive over from Oliver’s. The yogurt in the fridge had expired, and besides that, I just had a few bottles of various sauces and a carton of eggs that couldn’t have still been good.

I settled on a packet of microwaveable popcorn and some chocolate chips. I’d get over to the store the next morning.

The night stretched out, slow and uneasy.

I tried watching a show—some lighthearted reality thing I used to play as background noise—but the laughter and music felt too bright in the dim room, like a party I hadn’t been invited to. I muted it after a few minutes and let it play without sound.

Eventually, I turned the TV off and dragged myself to my bedroom.

Everything smelled faintly like detergent and dust. I shucked off my shirt and changed into a pair of grey sweatpants.

My sheets were cold and slightly stiff from not being slept in.

Even as I lay in bed, Dorian’s voice from the other day lingered.

You saved my life.

You were the best thing to ever happen to me.

I want to bring you home.

I turned onto my side, facing the wall, and shut my eyes. I counted my breaths. In, out. In, out.

I didn’t want to admit it, but I was scared.

Not of Dorian exactly, but of getting to know each other again. What if I didn’t live up to his expectations? What if he had changed so much that I didn’t know any of his favorite things anymore? What if he changed his mind about me? What if he decided that I was a waste of time?

Another buzz from my phone broke the silence. I groaned softly, reaching for it with one arm and squinting at the screen in the dark.

Dori ?? :

I know you said no stalking, but since it’s your first night back at your place…

I’m downstairs in the car.

Just watching. Don’t worry.

I won’t come up.

Goodnight, angel.

Ex-fucking-scuse me?

My heart leapt and plummeted at the same time.

He was outside? Right now?

I sat up slowly, tiptoed to the window, and pulled the curtain aside just enough to peer down.

Sure enough, there he was, parked across the street under the dim halo of a streetlamp.

Engine off. Window down. A barely visible silhouette in the driver’s seat, leaning back like he’d already been there for hours.

I should have been angry. I should’ve texted him back and told him to leave, that this wasn’t what “normal” people did.

But instead, I let the curtain fall back into place and returned to bed.

Maybe I was just too tired.

I sank into the pillow again, and this time, I finally started to drift.

Knowing Dorian was out there wasn’t exactly comforting. But it wasn’t exactly terrifying either. It was something else entirely that I didn’t have the words to explain.