Page 40 of Dean

Cash and Ford meet eyes, and I shake my head. “It’s not like that. We’re just roommates for now. And he’s my employee. Plus, he’s young.”

“Age doesn’t matter,” they say in unison and then look at each other, slightly confused.

But I don’t care about what they think, so I don’t say anything. I just get back to work, my eyes traveling up to watch Avery through the office window. Once again, I try not to look too often, but I can’t help the way my gaze travels up and down his body.

I hope he’s okay.

That’s all this is.

I just want him to be okay.

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 currentlymy 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?”

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