Page 7 of Dean (Unexpected #9)

CHAPTER SEVEN

AVERY

Linc’s visit put me in a mood. My anxiety was spiked the rest of the day, thinking about what Nick might do in retaliation. For what? Being gay? Being into women’s clothes and makeup? I don’t know, but still, it makes me nervous. And those phone calls. Linc didn’t confirm or deny if Nick was the one calling. So, hell if I know what’s really going on in that crazy man’s head. But I also couldn’t stop thinking about how Dean touched my cheek like I mattered. The thought made me slightly giddy, which is an odd combination of emotions to sit with for hours and hours. Needless to say, I’m a wreck. It doesn’t help that I’m now missing calls from another unknown number. I know it’s not Amanda because she would have left a message or texted.

It has to be related to Nick. A filed police report is going to be the tip of the iceberg with this.

Maybe if I just ignore it, it will go away. I am the best at that.

The literal best.

So, by the time Dean offers to drive me home, I find myself declining. I desperately need a major break from the reality that is currently my life. It’s a spur-of-the-moment decision, but I find myself blurting it out all the same.

“What do you mean?” he asks, clearly confused by my response.

“I think I’m going to go out. Paint the town gay.”

His lips fall into a frown and he folds his arms across his chest.

“Okay, well, I can drive you.”

If you drive me anywhere, I’ll have you drive me straight into your bed.

“Dean, no. I’m going to grab a rideshare. But thank you for the offer.”

He rolls his lips between his teeth and is silent for an ungodly amount of time. I almost feel guilty, like I’m doing something wrong, but I’m not. I just need a minute away from all of this.

I need to have a few drinks and then really reassess my situation.

I could do this with Dean. He’s a good listener, but I quickly shake that away.

I really need to do this on my own. I need to solve my own problems. I always have, always will. It’s what having parents like mine did to me.

They made me this way. I have such a hard time asking for help. With anything.

“Are you okay?” he asks, skeptically.

“Yes, I just need to go out and dance some of this stress away.”

His fingers tighten on his biceps, but he just nods in response.

“Okay, be safe and call me if you need a ride home.”

“I will. And I can lock up the shop. You don’t need to wait for me.”

Dean hesitates. “What if he comes back and bothers you?”

“I’m fine, Dean. I promise.”

He waits for a moment before sighing and stalking off. I can hear the rev of his engine as he pulls out of the parking lot slowly.

“Now, why did you go and do that?” I huff to myself and run a hand through my hair. I don’t exactly have many friends, and the ones I do have from college have all moved back to their home states.

The only local friend I have is Ben, and well…Dean.

“Tonight is for making friends. And for getting myself out of this funk I’m in.”

My words echo through the warehouse, and I sigh, grabbing the keys and moving toward the door. As I do, I look down at my outfit and exhale loudly.

“Even if I don’t look as good as I could, I can still maybe get someone to touch my dick.”

What I really should do is go back to the house and change, but if I do…if I see Dean, I’ll end up staying home with him. There’s something about him that’s just cozy. Like home. And I realize that the obsession I have with him runs deep.

It’s not healthy. I need to get out of my comfort zone.

As I step outside, I lock up and order a car to a local gay bar that’s been on my list to visit. I lean against the siding, and when the rideshare pulls up several minutes later, I slip inside and pull up my text messages.

I don’t know what I’m expecting, but I know I kind of want Dean to message and ask me to come home.

I’d probably do it too.

I’m not as committed to this outing as I felt earlier.

As I stare at my phone, I see an unknown number pop up and I swipe at it. It’s a message from Amanda.

She got her new phone.

My mood lifts slightly, and I quickly respond to her message, letting her know that her number is saved and to be very careful about using this phone around my parents.

She just sends me an eye-roll emoji.

“Thank you,” I say when I realize the driver has pulled up outside of the bar. It’s early still and not very crowded, which works for me. It will allow me to chat with people, to have an actual conversation. That’s what I need.

I need to find someone to talk to.

I need to spew my guts to someone who isn’t Dean. I don’t need to rely on him any more than I already have.

This is a dangerous situation we’re both in.

I’m growing more and more obsessed with him, and he’s being far too nice.

This whole thing is going to end with me bawling my eyes out.

“Hey,” I say as I meander in and take a seat at the bar. A woman in her thirties, rocking a septum piercing and short silver hair is bartending, and she smiles at me.

“Hey there,” she says, leaning forward, a large tattoo of a blooming flower stretching from her chest up to her neck. “What can I get you?”

“First, I love the look you’ve got going. It’s totally working for you,” I say, and she grins at me. “But the drink…yes, I’d love something fun. It’s been an un-fun day.”

“Something fun. Right. I can do that. How about a fruity martini? Beachy vacation vibes?”

“Yeah, gimme. I’d love a vacation from my brain.”

“I know how that is. I need a retirement from it.”

“Girl, you have no idea.”

She huffs a laugh, and I turn to look at a few other patrons chatting at tables, and a few on the dancefloor swaying their hips to the music. Everyone looks like they don’t have a care in the world but me. I have cares. A lot of them.

“This your first time here?” the bartender asks.

“No. I was here a few times in college. I’ve just been so busy I haven’t had time to make it back in a while.”

“Ah, what’s the occasion…you know, what made the day un-fun?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“I asked, didn’t I?”

“Fair enough. Well, it all stems from shitty ex-roommates being assholes and a hot straight man I’m currently living with.”

“Oh, the tragedy.”

“Tell me about it,” I sigh as she pours a pink colored drink into a sugar-rimmed glass and slides it across to me.

“This will help. And if you stay long enough, it will get busy. I bet you’ll find someone to help you take your mind off all of it.”

“Yeah. That’s the plan.”

It’s not really the plan. But if it happens organically, then yeah, I’ll take it. Maybe. Dean’s grim face when I told him I wasn’t going home with him pops into my mind, and I sigh.

I will not think of him right now.

Oh, who am I kidding? I’m always thinking about him. I take a big slurp of my drink and then pull a menu toward me. I should probably put something in my stomach before I get too wasted. I don’t want to embarrass myself.

“What would you like?” the bartender asks, appearing just when I need her to.

“Nachos, please. Oh, and some mozzarella sticks.”

“I’d avoid the mozzarella sticks. They’re not that great.”

“Well, hell.”

The bartender points to something, and I stare down at it. “Oh, jalapeno poppers. Yes, let’s do it. I need some spice in my life. Majorly.”

She winks and puts in my order. My eyes swivel around the room, taking in the men and women occupying the space once more. I’ve always gotten a good vibe from this place. It’s chill, easygoing. I think I should come here more often, and try to have a life outside of work and Dean.

A couple moves up next to me, making out with one another heavily until they finally pull apart to order drinks. The bigger guy looks like Dean, rough and masculine, while the other one is slighter and wearing a mini-skirt and heels.

“Love the outfit,” I tell the smaller one and they grin at me.

“Thanks,” they say, cheeks reddening. “Love yours as well.”

“Thanks, I’m Avery, by the way.”

“Oh, I’m Lexi, and this is my boyfriend, Ryder. He’s a mechanic and so hot.”

“That he is.”

With a cocky grin, Ryder picks up their drinks and leads Lexi onto the dancefloor, the two of them plastered to one another. And I can’t help but watch them move, the way they seem to love one another.

I want that , I think. I fucking want that.

My phone beeps, and I stare down at it.

Just the man I was trying not to think of.

He’s checking to see if I made it safely. Of course he is. He’s a dream.

He’s my dream.

I can’t help but respond that he shouldn’t worry. And then I send him a selfie of myself and my drink .

He responds with a picture of a sad sandwich on his lap with his feet propped up near the fire.

Dammit. I should have just gone home.

I could be with him right now.

I sigh and take another sip of my drink when someone moves up next to me. I turn to see a cute guy with blond hair and a sweet smile. He looks nice.

Like he could be my friend. How sad is that? Trying to claim friends without even speaking to them first.

“That looks amazing. What is it?” the guy asks, his gaze meeting mine. I can see how earnest and well-intentioned he is.

I grin at him and shrug. “Who knows? The bartender made it.”

“Oh, Christy? She’s amazing.” He leans farther over the bar and waves her down. “I want what he’s having.”

“Course you do, Beau. Just give me a minute,” she replies just as another guy walks up wearing tight blue Chinos and a halfway unbuttoned shirt. Looks expensive. Damn, they’re both hot.

“Oh, hi, Coop. Guess what? I ordered this really pretty drink…” Beau says and then points to me once more. “This guy got it and it looked delicious.”

What a cute couple. I mean, maybe they’re a couple? Or just friends. I don’t know.

Coop meets my eyes and gives me a small nod. “Hi.”

“Hello there. I’m Avery.”

“I’m Coop, and this is my best friend, Beau. Do you come here often? Because I’m not sold on this place.” He glances around and grimaces. “I’m really not sold on this.”

Beau rolls his eyes and swats at him. “Just ignore him. He’s a snob. Anyone sitting here?” Beau asks, and I shake my head.

“No. Go ahead.”

“Thanks,” Beau says, taking a seat right next to me, and Coop sits next to him.

Christy slides the bright pink drink across to Beau, and he slurps at it.

“Oh god, that is delicious. You have great taste, Avery.”

“Anything you’d like?” Christy asks Coop .

“Something to make me forget I was ever here.”

“He’s joking, right?” Christy asks, but Beau just shrugs it off.

“No, I’m not. I want to wake up and think this was all a dream.”

“You better watch out or she’s going to put glass in your drink,” Beau says with a smile.

Coop doesn’t look worried, setting down a platinum credit card.

“He’s a trust fund baby. Real asshole. Always paying for my stuff,” Beau explains to anyone who’s listening.

“You need it. Actually, what you really need is a sugar daddy, but alas…”

Beau ignores him and turns toward me. “So, tell me, why are you here all alone?”

“Hey, Beau, you know the interrogations are my thing,” Coop interjects, but I wave my hand around.

“I don’t mind an interrogation. I actually came here hoping to tell someone about my predicament and you two seem like my unlucky test subjects. How long do you have?”

Beau takes another sip. “Tell me everything. I have all night.”

Coop looks a little unsure, but he doesn’t move from Beau’s side. So, I take a deep breath and begin.

“Okay, so it all started with my creepy roommate…”

“Thank you for driving me home,” I say to Coop, who is helping me walk to the front door. Beau and I drank our weight in those martinis, and Beau is currently sleeping it off in the passenger seat of Coop’s car. “The world is spinning. Is your world spinning?”

“No. You and Beau drank too much, and those nachos did nothing to help. I’m telling you, they weren’t high enough quality.”

“They were chips. I don’t think they come with a quality.”

“Oh babe, you have no idea…”

“They were so salty,” I slur and fumble with my bag, trying to find my keys, but before I can, the door swings open and Dean is there, wearing no shirt and looking like a sex god.

“Oh my,” I murmur, and Coop lets out a small laugh .

Dean’s jaw ticks as he glowers at Coop and then he glances at me. “You bringing him in?”

I snort and move toward Dean. “No, he’s not interested,” I sigh, and Coop’s arm falls from around me. “Thank you, Coop. I can walk by myself now.” Just as I say that, I stumble to my left and Dean catches me.

Dean peers over Coop’s shoulder at the car and his face softens, obviously thinking Beau is his boyfriend. “Oh, right. Well, thank you for bringing him home.”

“Sure thing, and Avery, text Beau. He’ll want to check in tomorrow.”

“Will do, Captain.” I try to salute, but end up hitting myself in the face instead.

Coop huffs a laugh and moves back to the car, all while Dean gathers me into him and closes the door behind me.

“You were out late,” he murmurs, and I sigh, shifting further into him and pressing my face into his chest.

“I had a lot to say.”

“You could have told me.”

I snort so loudly I choke. “Yeah, problem is, some of it was about you.”

I pull back to meet his gaze and see him flush. “Bad stuff?”

“No. The opposite, but I’m not telling you anything. I’m drunk. Christy had a heavy pour, and I didn’t eat enough nachos or jalapeno poppers to soak any of it up.”

“All right. Well, let’s get you in bed then.” He helps me walk down the hallway, and I stumble toward my bed, falling onto it and sighing.

“I’m going to grab you some water.”

“Hmph,” I grumble, unable to move my lips to respond.

A moment later, he returns and sets the glass of water near my bed.

“Why don’t you have some now?”

“Too much work.”

He huffs a laugh and maneuvers me up, my body slumping against his. “Come on. Have some water. I don’t want you to die in your sleep. You’re a great roommate and employee. I’m not ready to lose you. ”

“And that’s all I’ll ever be,” I murmur as he presses the glass to my lips and I gulp some down.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, and I shake my head.

“Nothing. I won’t say a word. But listen,” I poke at his chest and then spread my fingers, feeling the hair beneath my palm. Fuck, he’s so sexy. So manly. “I made some friends tonight. And they know everything. Everything .”

His eyebrows rise, and I let out a small burp.

“I’m very drunk, Dean. The drunkest.”

“Yeah. I think you’re going to have to stay with me tonight. I’m worried you’ll choke to death.”

“I would never! I have decoration!”

“Decorum?”

“That’s what I said.”

I hiccup, and Dean sighs. Without a word, he picks me up bridal style and carries me to his room. Oh my. This is detrimental, but I let him do it anyway. I blame the alcohol. I’m not thinking clearly. Not that I ever truly think clearly when he’s around, but I digress.

“Oh, your sheets are so soft. I love flannel. Reminds me of lumberjacks and sex,” I say, pretending I haven’t been in his bed before.

I burrow into them and push my face into his pillow. Oh, it smells like him. Like his shampoo and body wash. I bet he’s so manly he even uses one of those three-in-one washes.

“All right, move on over, Avery. I have to sleep here too.”

“You do, but you can squeeze in. Right here. We can keep each other warm.”

He laughs but instead of snuggling in, he moves me out of the way, putting me on the other side of the mattress before sliding under the covers. Our eyes meet in the darkness, and I can’t help but grin at him.

“You look hot lying in bed.”

“You’re drunk.”

“I am, but honestly. Thank you, Dean. For saving me. You’re a true hero. The prince to my prince-ness.”

He chuckles softly. “Anytime. Anything for you.”

“Stop being so romantic. It’s terrible for my mental health.”

“I’ll try,” he murmurs as my eyelids flutter shut, and I drift off to sleep.