Page 60 of The Blame Game

“You should call Charlie too probably, yeah?”

“Charlie is currently at Taylor’s. Probably getting shitfaced.” Dustin’s grin was fond. “I’ll either not hear from him at all or I’ll get a dozen dirty pictures and pouty messages begging me to come over and fuck him.”

“Oh, he flew in too?” Dom yawned.

When Dustin was in the city playing, Charlie often came home to visit his best friend, Taylor Hollis, and see Taylor’s family.

“Yeah. They’re coming to tomorrow’s game in Evanston.”

“Nice.”

Dom waited for Dustin to get up too, but he stayed right where he was, his face illuminated by the glow of the TV screen and a lamp in the corner of the room.

“So, really, how are you doing?” Dustin glanced over.

Dom squinted tiredly at him. “I told you. My back hurts but I won’t know anything until they run tests.”

“I meant with the situation with your stylist.”

“Oh.” Dom tried to remember if Dustin knew his name was actually Shea.

Christ, why was everything so complicated?

“Uh, I mean, I wish the gossip sites would find more interesting things to fucking talk about but there’s not much I can do at this point.”

“Because you haven’t seemed like yourself lately,” Dustin pressed.

“Yeah, I know. I’m surprised you haven’t said anything to me about the situation until now,” Dom said, pulling the now warm and useless icepack away and tossing it on the nightstand.

Dustin scoffed, reaching for the remote and scrolling through the options on the TV. “I learned that lesson years ago. You share shit when you’re ready and attempting to pry anything out of you will only make you clam up further.”

Dom managed a faint smile, sliding so he lay flat on his back, knees pointed at the ceiling. His back didn’t feel good, but the pain wasn’t agonizing at the moment. “You know me well.”

“Not really,” Dustin said, selecting something. “But I know how you operate.”

Dom winced, staring at the ceiling. “I don’t mean to be so closed off.”

“Hey, I know.” Dustin patted his thigh. “I don’t take it personally, man. I hope you always know you can talk to me whenever you want to.”

“I do know that.” Dom shifted, restless but still tired.

They fell silent, the TV playing softly in the background.

“Sh—Sawyer is, uh, more than my stylist,” Dom finally offered. He hoped Dustin knew him as Sawyer. At this point, he had no idea who he’d told what.

“I kinda figured.” Dustin’s voice was very soft.

“I mean, it’s not serious. We’re not dating. It’s …”

“Yeah, I figured that too.”

Dom swallowed. “But it’s been weird lately.”

“Weird how?”

“Well, after the fire and all of the speculation started, Kate came up with the whole ‘bro dates’ thing.”

“Is that what we’re calling it?” Dustin’s voice was laced with humor.

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