Page 7 of Chasing After You (Twisted Desires #3)

Just then, the bell actually did chime, signaling a customer’s entry. I jerked my gaze over to the door, wondering if my thoughts had somehow summoned him.

Instead, it was Max, ready to start his shift. I greeted him happily before heading to the break room to grab my keys.

I hated not being able to just go home and snuggle up on my couch to watch a show. I was thankful for the help I was getting from my current housemates, but I was still a bit on edge around the twins. That, and I was constantly worrying that I was overstaying my welcome.

But it was either staying at their house or going to bed worrying about Dorian setting my apartment on fire while I slept, so…

* * *

“Hey, guys! I’m home!” I called out as I entered the large home.

“In the kitchen!” Oliver’s voice echoed. I shucked off my sneakers, leaving them just inside the door.

I padded down the hall towards the kitchen, socked feet quiet against the polished wood. The warm, buttery scent hit me before I even entered the room.

Oliver stood at the counter, his sleeves rolled up and a smudge of flour on his cheek, as he mixed dough in a large glass bowl.

“Hey.” His smile was easy, but his eyes scanned me like he was checking for cracks. “How was your day?”

“Hey,” I replied. “It was good. Although it’s still weird that I can’t just walk down the block to bring you coffee during a break.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He shrugged, a soft, happy look on his face. “Well, you’ll just have to bring me some coffee here now.”

“Are you… I mean, do you miss having your store?” I’d had a suspicion from the start that it hadn’t been Oliver’s decision to sell his antique shop suddenly.

His smile grew. “You don’t have to worry about me, Josh.

” I blushed. “I know what it might seem like from an outsider’s point of view…

and I’m glad to have a friend like you looking out for me.

But, honestly, I don’t miss it. I don’t think I would’ve ever explored my own interests if it hadn’t been forced on me,” he laughed.

“I was a bit sad about it at first, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that getting rid of the shop was for the best.”

I pondered that. “I always just assumed it was your passion, like Wild Roast is for me.”

He nodded. “I tried hard to trick myself into thinking it was my passion. It would’ve been too depressing if I were constantly thinking about how I wanted to try other things, you know? The shop was something I needed for survival at the time, so I wanted to be positive about it.”

“Oh, I guess that makes sense.”

“Now I get to try all kinds of things. Like these cookies,” he hummed, gesturing with his elbow.

“I never had time for stuff like this before. Want to help?” He tilted his head and smiled.

“Or you can sit and just talk to me while I do it. That works too. I want to get these in the oven soon so that they’re ready for my guys. ”

I nodded and walked over, pulling out one of the stools at the island. “I’ll try to help, but I can’t promise I won’t ruin them.”

Oliver chuckled, “Says the guy running a cafe.”

I grinned, shaking my head. “Where are the twins, by the way?”

He slid me a second mixing bowl, along with a bag of chocolate chips and a measuring cup.

“Basement.”

I shivered. “Oh… Well then.”

“You’ll get used to it at some point,” he snickered. “But hey, at least you haven’t actually witnessed anything that goes on down there.” He pointed his wooden spoon at me.

I huffed out a breath. “Yeah, but it’s still freaky to think about how someone’s being murdered right underneath my feet.”

“Like I said,” he reiterated, “you get used to it.” Oliver’s hands moved quietly as he lined a baking sheet with parchment paper. After a small gap of silence, Oliver asked, “How’s everything with your brother situation?”

“He scares me,” I admitted, voice smaller. “But I still love him. I’m just scared of seeing how much he hates me if we meet face to face.”

Oliver glanced over at me. “How do you know for sure that he hates you? What if he’s trying to get in touch with you because he misses you or something? I mean, sure, he’d be going about it the wrong way, but…” He shrugged his shoulders.

I bit the inside of my cheek, sucking up the taste of blood. There was no way Dorian felt anything but hatred for me, not after what I’d done. I’d ruined his family.

Oliver nudged the bowl toward me gently, a pitying gleam in his eye. “You want to scoop these out?”

“Sure,” I said hoarsely. I grabbed the cookie scoop and tried to focus on the dough and making even rows on the baking sheet.

“Josh…” Oliver murmured, “I haven’t pushed the question these past few weeks because I wanted you to be able to relax and be comfortable here with us, but…”

“But?”

He took the baking sheet from in front of me and transferred it into the oven. “When you first came to us about Dorian, you said that you’d done something bad. Something that he might take revenge for. And then you’re so sure he hates you. So… What was it? What did you do?”

“I—”

“Please be honest,” he whispered.

“I-I… I killed his dad.”

Oliver froze, eyes wide with shock. “You… killed… his dad?”

I gave a short nod, avoiding eye contact with my friend.

“Why?”

“I didn’t mean to,” I squeaked.

“Can you tell me what happened?” His voice was patient, soothing.

“He was choking Dorian. He wouldn’t stop… Dori looked like he was dying. I tried to push Daniel off of him, but he wouldn’t budge. So I hit him in the head with this lamp and… I didn’t think it’d kill him, Ollie. I didn’t—”

Oliver pulled me into his embrace. “It’s okay. I’m so sorry, Josh. I’m so sorry.”

Oliver’s arms were warm and steady, the cotton of his sweatshirt scratching lightly against my cheek. My fingers curled into the soft fabric at his back, and I let out a breath I’d been holding for too long.

“I keep replaying it,” I whispered. “The sound… God. I thought I was saving him, but everything only got worse. I ruined his life.”

“You saved his life, Josh.”

“But,” I said, voice muffled, “how can someone get over something like that? He watched his older brother murder his father. I could’ve gotten him off Dorian without killing him.

I should’ve called for help right away. And then I left him.

I killed his dad and disappeared. How could he not hate me for that? ”

“Could’ve, should’ve. You were what… seventeen, almost eighteen?

” I nodded. “How is a teenager supposed to know what to do in that situation? Most adults wouldn’t know.

You reacted to an impossible situation,” Oliver murmured, rubbing slow circles between my shoulders.

“I guess it’s possible that he hates you.

But I’d bet against that. You saved him.

If you hadn’t stepped in, he might have died. ”

My throat closed.

A soft ding from the oven timer sounded. Oliver gave me a gentle squeeze and stepped back. His eyes were watery but calm. “Cookies are ready,” he said, forcing a crooked smile.

I huffed an almost-laugh and swiped at my face with my sleeve. “Good.”

He lifted the tray out, steam curling around golden-brown circles studded with chocolate. The smell was comforting.

The basement door opened, locking automatically behind the twins.

I tensed as we waited for them to enter the kitchen, half-expecting to see them streaked with something ominous, but Hayes appeared first, wiping his hands on a rag that looked mercifully clean.

Hudson followed, hair mussed, eyes bright.

“Pet, you spoil us. Chocolate chip?” Hayes asked as he strode closer to us, eyes surveying the two of us before flicking over to the freshly-baked cookies.

Hudson followed his path, leaned over the tray, inhaling deeply before stealing a cookie. “Hey, man,” he nodded at me.

“Hey, guys,” I responded.

Oliver smiled brightly, stars in his eyes, as he watched his partners eat. “How was the job?”

Hudson smirked, leaning against the counter. “It was pretty fun. Got to try out something new I’ve been working on.”

I suppressed a shudder and took that as a sign to excuse myself and head upstairs to the guest room I’d been staying in.

I fell back onto the bed with a grunt, staring at the ceiling above.

Why did life have to be so complicated?