Page 89 of Antidote

“So what do I do?”

“You’re asking me for advice?” He laughs, and I smile. “I’ve never even had a girlfriend.”

“I have to ask someone for advice. I have no fucking clue how to handle this.” I tell him. “I’m not equipped for it.”

“You don’t have a choice, Hunt.” He grimaces. “You have to wait the year.”

“Listen.” I sigh. “Until I can get Ollie back, I will act like this. I’m going to do stupid shit, get drunk, not sleep, and show up wherever he is. I’m going to message him every night until he gets sick of me and blocks me, and I’m going to follow him after college to New York—because I love him. I will do whatever it takes to get him back.”

“How did it go with your dad?”

“Not well.” I shake my head. “He still doesn’t approve. But I told him it’s non-negotiable. Either he accepts our relationship, or he can’t be in our lives anymore.” And I fucking meant every word. If he can’t accept us, then he can stay away. “He said he wouldn’t get in the way of us, but now Ollie doesn’t want to be with me.”

“And you’re fine if your dad is out of your life?” Connor’s jaw drops.

I shake my head, “I’m in way too deep with Ollie. I don’t care about what Conrad has to say.”

“Conrad, huh?”

“Fuck. Him.” I mean it, yet it still makes my stomach clench with fear. What if he really does abandon me, and Ollie doesn’t come back to me? Then I’ll have no family. I’ll have no one. “I have to fix this.”

“Okay, so don’t be mad?—”

Someone pounds on the door, and I raise an eyebrow at Connor. What the fuck? Who is that? He holds up his hands in what looks like surrender and goes to the door, opening it. There, stands Dylan. I widen my eyes at Connor, wondering why the fuck he would invite someone I absolutely despise, but he gives me puppy dog eyes, and I roll my own, then go to my room to change my wet clothes.

After changing, I return to the living room, just to find them cooking for me in my kitchen. I’m trying my damn hardest not to kick Dylan out, but so far, he hasn’t been an asshole—though we have barely looked at each other. So I sit at the tiny two-person dining room table next to the kitchen, and they both turn their heads to look at me. Connor looks apologetic, and Dylan has pursed lips as his eyes roam my face.

“What?” I ask him. “Spit it out.”

“I heard about what happened.” He shrugs. “If we were friends…”

“If we were friends…?” I trail off just like he did, and I know whatever information he has, I want in on. I guess the fucker does have some use, considering he’s dating the asshole Jamie.

“I’d tell you what I know.” He shrugs again, then goes back to seasoning ground beef. It looks like they’re making pasta and my mouth waters. It’s been days since I had a real meal. “But we’re not friends, are we, Hartman?”

“We could be.” I lie, and it tastes bitter on my tongue. I don’t like that he fucked my Ollie. So what if I’m possessive and neurotic? “If you wanted.”

“You’ve treated me like shit,” he murmurs. “I don’t think I want it.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Wanted to see you miserable.” Dylan chuckles, and my nostrils flare. “But I’m feeling nice tonight, so I’m gonna stay and make you food. Then we can have a pity party, and you can cry. I’ll pretend to give a shit while Connor rubs your back, then I’ll rub in your face how you’re never getting Ollie back.”

My heart drops, but I nod. “Sounds good.” I want to kick him out. No—I want to kick his ass. But I’m not going to, because even if I don’t want to hear it, he has information that I need.

Dylan raises an eyebrow. “You don’t even care about humiliation right now, do you?”

“Nope.”

“Wow.” He grins as he puts the meat on the pan and begins to stir it. “Never thought I’d see the day you’d be whipped. But I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“If you’re gonna talk about fucking Ollie, then you can walk out now. Because I will beat your fucking ass.”

He laughs, “I’ll keep comments to myself.” I seethe and ball up my fists, and he sees it. “Relax, I’m with Jamie. And he fucks me real good.”

“He fucks you?” I ask with confusion. “I thought you topped?”

“Vers.” He shrugs.

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