Page 7 of The Substitute (New York Gods #4)

SEVEN

AMbrOSE

Tobi is so closed off, and it’s driving me nuts.

He’s spent a little more time with me this last week, but he’s encased himself in a wall and won’t open up.

The only time he will actually spend with me is when I put on movies.

It’s not much, and probably only because we can’t talk while watching, but I’ll take it.

I just want to talk to him about that night, let him know I’m here for him, and I can’t figure out how.

Fuck it.

I have a few hours before I have to go to class, and I’m going to make sure I see him.

I knock on the door and wait, but nothing makes a sound inside.

Maybe he’s asleep?

I knock again, louder.

Still nothing.

Why am I knocking on my own damn door?

I open it. “Tobi?”

The front door opens behind me, scaring the shit out of me. Like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar, I slam the door closed and spin around to find the man I’m looking for stopped in his tracks.

“What are you doing?” He doesn’t look happy, but I am full of elation at him being alive, and the urge to touch him has me smiling.

“Looking for you.” I force my body into a relaxed stance and lean against the wall. “You’re not an easy man to find, despite living in the same room.”

“What do you want?” He shoves his hands in his pockets and sways a little.

“To talk to you.” I shrug. “Get to know you.”

“Why?”

Good fucking God, he’s infuriating.

“Why not?” I say.

“You’re the one stalking me.”

“We are roommates. That’s hardly stalking.” I cross my arms.

“You’re kinda acting like a stalker, slamming our door.”

“Just my PTSD from my childhood, but you can mock me for it!” I deadpan.

“Wait, you have PTSD.” He looks a little sympathetic.

“Yeah, I really do, but it’s not a big deal. I’m teasing you.” I shrug it off because at this point, I don’t really want to tell him more about me when he doesn’t want to open up.

We fall into an uncomfortable silence.

“Let’s watch a movie again or something.” I reopen the door and give him a grin as I gesture towards it. If he turns me down, at least this will prove he’s avoiding me.

“Don’t you have practice?”

“Not for a while.”

Tobi scans my body and shifts like he’s uncomfortable. “Do you ever wear clothes?”

“Not if I can help it. Clothes are the worst.” I know he’s deflecting, but I’m not giving up.

“So you wanted to get to know me while naked? Is that why you’re basically naked and sneaking around?” His cheeks turn just the smallest bit pink, and I can’t hold back my smirk.

“I mean…I wouldn’t say no, but that wasn’t my plan.” I drag my eyes down his body, remembering the feeling of holding the broken pieces of him together that night. It’s a cold slap in the face. “How are you? Really?”

He tenses and almost glares at me. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Act like you care.”

I move closer to him, aching to pull him into a hug, but he steps back, so I stop. “I do care. Probably more than I should.”

Tobi shakes his head like he doesn’t believe me.

“I know what it’s like to be in that headspace where it feels like nothing is ever going to get better, everyone is better off without you, and you feel like you’re ruining everything—”

Tobi rushes forward and slaps a hand over my mouth. “Shut up. Just shut up. I can’t take it.” He’s breathing hard, and a mixture of emotions plays merry-go-round on his face. His hair has fallen into his eyes, and without thinking about it, I brush it out of his eyes.

Fuck, I just want to wrap him up in my arms and give him some comfort.

“You don’t know anything about me, so just leave me alone.” His voice has a breathy quality to it this time. He pushes his hand against me and turns, but I spin him around to face me before he makes it very far.

“I want to know you.” The words feel flat, so I try again: “I felt it that night, and I know you did too.”

“What?”

“On the bridge. I know you felt something.”

He breaks our eye contact. “None of it matters.”

“Are you hungry? I can make you something?”

“No.” Exhaustion has deepened the circles under his eyes. I want to make him lie down with me and sleep. Warm and safe in my bed after I feed him.

“You sure?” I hate that he’s not eating.

His shoulders sag like he doesn’t have the energy to keep them up anymore, while his head falls forward.

“You should sleep,” I say softly.

“All I do is sleep.” His words are almost inaudible.

I want to ask him when the last time someone hugged him or just touched him was. People need physical touch, but so many people self-isolate when they’re upset or going through something. It makes everything harder.

Slowly, I lift my arms and encircle him in my embrace. He’s stiff at first and doesn’t hug me back when he says, “What are you doing?”

“Hugging you. If you don’t know a hug when you feel one, I have some serious questions about your upbringing.”

Tobi lifts his hands and drops them a few times before he wraps his arms around my waist, splaying his hands on my back, and pulling me against him. I smile into his hair and tighten my arms around him.

For long moments, we just stand there, and I pretend not to hear him sniffling.

“Is the sports ball you play hockey?” His question catches me off guard.

“Yes, why?”

“Ugh. I knew it.” The sound is pained, and he pushes me away. “Hockey players are the worst.”

“How many do you know?”

“More than I want to. I knew you were too good to be true.”

Now I’m confused. “What does that mean?”

He heads toward his room and stops in the doorway. “It means I have gone out of my way to avoid them for very good reason. Sorry, puck boy. Forget I exist.” As he heads into the room, I hear him mumble, “Everyone else has.”