Page 37 of The Bro Date
“No. Of course not. The owners of the company are a kind, older couple, and I know them personally. They don’t even like my parents,” I chuckle.
I can see the wheels turning, and I really hope he says yes.
He needs this.
Hedeservesthis.
“Just let me help you for once, like you always help me,” I plead, picking at the corner of my textbook.
“Okay. Thank you, Toby.Really.Just tell me when and where, and I’ll be there.” A small smile pulls at his lips, and my heart stutters at the beauty that is Shane Carmichael smiling and happy.
I need to see it more often.
CHAPTER TWELVE
SHANE
It’s been over a week since I started my new catering job at Coastal Cuisine, and I think I like it here. Glenn and his wife have been extremely welcoming. I’m so grateful that Toby hooked me up with this opportunity, but I’ve had to work more hours than I normally would each day this week in order to get up to speed with my new responsibilities. That, paired with classes, means I haven’t seen Toby all that much. To be honest, I feel a little guilty about it after our kiss. He’s an overthinker, and the last thing I want is him spiraling into a panic attack.
It’s Friday night, and I’m home late after a sweet sixteen party where I monitored the food tables and kept them stocked while also being harassed and hit on by over a dozen teenage girls. It wasn’t ideal, but the tip sure as hell was.
When I step inside, I find my roommates sprawled on the couches in the living room with an action movie playing on the TV.
Toby looks up from his phone with a smile on his face. “How was your night?” he asks politely.
“Teenage girls,” I reply, deadpan.
Jake hisses. “Yikes, man. Iknowthey ate you alive. You’re too pretty and too broody.”
I turn unamused eyes toward him. “That suplex is calling your name,” I warn.
Jake cackles, and Spencer tosses a throw pillow at his face. “Leave the poor man alone, he’s clearly been through enough tonight.”
I glance at Toby, whose attention is on his phone, thumbs flying across the screen.
Who the hell is he messaging?
I thought I got through to him.
“I’m taking a shower,” I grunt, slipping off my work shoes by the front door. I make my way upstairs and go straight to the bathroom, locking myself inside.
The water feels incredible, loosening my overworked muscles and crowded mind. I can’t stop thinking about Toby talking to random guys that treat him like shit. He’s downstairs at this very moment, smiling at his phone and possibly arranging to meet up with someone. I can’t let that happen. The urge to protect him burns like fire through my veins, making my blood boil at the thought of Toby getting hurt.
After thoroughly rinsing out the deep conditioning treatment that Daija got me for Christmas, I turn off the shower and wrap a towel around my waist. I slip out of the steamy bathroom and head to my room, quickly applying some lotion before throwing a pair of gray sweats and a white T-shirt on. Roughly scrubbing the towel over my head, I leave my hair messy and damp, jogging down the stairs to join my roommates.
They’re right where I left them, Jake and Spencer staring at the TV like a couple of zombies, while Toby is still engrossed in his phone. I grit my teeth, walking over to the love seat and plopping down right next to him with my entire weight. Toby topples into me, dropping his phone to the ground. “Shane!” he cries, reaching for it.
The phone lands face up by my feet, so I lean down and snatch it up, catching a glimpse of the message thread before Toby rips it out of my hands.
“Shane!” he whisper-shouts. “Stop trying to look at my conversations.God, you are such a stalker!”
“Conversations, as in plural?” I ask cynically. “Are you talking to more than one guy?”
Toby huffs, folding his arms across his chest and refusing to answer the question.
That wasn’t a no.
“Why the hell are you back on Grindr?” I hiss, glancing over at Jake, who’s now stretched out on the couch snoring, and Spencer, who’s fixing a sandwich in the kitchen.
