Page 32 of The Bro Date
“I was with Tate!And Landon isn’t a stranger. Besides, nothing happened!” he shouts in defense, sitting up straight and staring me right in the eye. The blanket pools around his lap, hiding his distracting underwear from my gaze.
“But itcouldhave. Bet you didn’t know those assholes gave you alcohol while they had water.”
Toby’s brows crease. “I . . . That’s . . . That’s not true.”
I lean closer. “I was there. Watching. And you better be glad I was,” I growl.
“I don’t need a shadow,” he scoffs, turning his head to the side. “Everything’s fine. Stop stalking my life!”
“Where have you been meeting all these guys anyway?” I ask, remembering the nerd in the coffee shop, the asshole at the movies, and now Mr. Spelling Bee Champion.
Toby hesitates, like he knows I won’t like the answer.
“Just answer the damn question,” I demand.
“I need to brush my teeth,” Toby blurts suddenly, completely avoiding the conversation by jumping out of bed, slipping into a pair of silky basketball shorts from his floor, and darting out of the bedroom.
Hot on his heels, I push Toby into the bathroom, breathing in his ear like an annoying mosquito. “Tell me.Where thefuckare you meeting all these guys?”
“No,” he retorts stubbornly, and I’m getting impatient.
“Toby.”
“Fiiine,” he whines. “Grindr.”
Jealousy bubbles to life inside of me like a vat of acid threatening to spill over.
You can’t trust anyone in today’s world.
“Please don’t do that anymore, Toby.”
“Well, I have another date this weekend,” he counters with sass, like he’s been around Tate for too long.
“No. You do not,” I say matter-of-factly.
Over my dead body will he meet up with another horny asshole fromGrindr.
“Yes. I do,” he insists with a defiant sparkle in his golden eyes, folding his arms across his bare chest.
“Then, I’ll be there, too. Wherever you go. I will follow.” I raise an eyebrow, daring him to challenge me.
His resolve waivers. “You can’t. You’re working.”
“Nope. Just got fired,” I say calmly, grabbing my toothbrush out of the drawer and squirting some toothpaste on it.
Toby gasps. “What?Why? What happened?”
I don’t answer, turning the sink on and getting my toothbrush wet before shoving the thing in my mouth and pressing the button. Toby follows suit, and we stand there staring at each other in the mirror while we brush our teeth. Ispit, rinsing out my mouth and drying off with my designated hand towel.
Toby does the same, asking me his question again. “Why did you lose your job, Shane?”
“I’ve told you before, Toby. You’re more important than any job, and tonight was proof of that.”
His head tilts like a confused little puppy.
He still doesn’t get it.
“I’m going to sleep,” I say tiredly, opening the door and stepping into the hallway. “In myownbed.”
