3. Daire

THREE

daire

THIS SHIT WAS weird.

After spending the day moving Gavin’s stuff into my apartment, it wasn’t until now that I realized I’d actually be living in the same space as another human being.

I’d always been on my own for a reason—I liked it that way. No one else’s shit to deal with, no one all up in my business. I eyed the empty boxes Gavin had thrown out into the main room while he unpacked for hours.

No mess everywhere...

So what had possessed me to say yes when he asked a few weeks ago if he could move in? Donovan and Kelly’s love-fest was enough to gag anyone, let alone Gavin, so I understood why he’d want to get the hell out. But why here? Why with me? It wasn’t like he couldn’t get his own place if he wanted to. With rich parents, we all could.

“Hey,” Gavin said as he stepped out of his room to throw another empty box onto the pile. When he caught me staring at the mess he was creating, he waved a hand. “Sorry, I know it’s a mess, but I called downstairs and they said they’d send someone to break them down tomorrow.”

Just one of the perks of living in an all-inclusive building on the Upper East Side—someone on call for every little thing you wanted. Hell, they would’ve moved Gavin’s boxes themselves if he’d had the patience to wait until the weekend.

I raised a brow. “You’re in a better mood.” Earlier there’d been an irritated red tinge to his skin, and he’d snapped at most of the guys at least once. But now he seemed almost content.

“Yeah, I guess I was annoyed about the furniture and then just having to move at all. I’m sorry. It didn’t have anything to do with you.”

I shrugged. “No problem.” It wasn’t like I wasn’t an ass on a daily basis.

He wiped the back of his hand over his forehead, looking proud, but tired. Even though the rest of the guys had helped move everything, Gavin hadn’t stopped all day. “So guess who just finished unpacking the last of his stuff? Well, at least until my furniture comes in.”

“Too bad,” I said, crossing my arms as I leaned back against the kitchen island. “I was about to see if you needed help.”

“Hah. Sure you were.”

“I was.”

“Well, if you really want to make yourself useful, you can go fold my underwear. I haven’t gotten to that yet.”

For some reason, the idea of getting my hands on something private of Gavin’s was hotter than it should’ve been. “You fold your underwear?”

“Don’t you?”

“Fuck no. I throw ’em in a drawer.”

Gavin chuckled as he grabbed a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water. “In case you missed it, I don’t have a dresser yet.”

“I’m aware.”

“Or a bed.”

“No shit.”

He drank most of his water before continuing, and his expression was a little too mischievous as he tapped his glass with his thumb. “Are you not gonna offer?”

“Offer what?”

“To let me sleep in your bed.”

I could only stare at him as I processed his question. He was joking, right? Gavin didn’t want to sleep with me—sleep in my bed. We were just friends, or friendly acquaintances, or whatever the hell we were that wasn’t a couple of guys sleeping together.

I mean, was he hot? Yeah, of course, but that didn’t mean I wanted to fuck him.

But just as that thought popped into my head, my dick woke up, letting me know it didn’t think that was a bad idea at all.

But it was. The worst thing in the world would be letting Gavin sleep in my bed.

A booming laugh exploded out of him as he set his glass on the counter. “I’m kidding. God, you look like I said I wanted to have your babies. It was a joke. It’s okay to smile if you think it was funny. I’ve seen you do it on occasion.”

My lips twitched despite myself, but that caused me to wince as my bruised cheek bunched.

“Ouch.” Gavin came around the counter and stopped opposite me, his eyes trailing over the purple tinge that had started to color my skin. “That looks so much worse than it did earlier. You really got that running into a cabinet door?”

“That’s what I told you, wasn’t it?”

“Well, yeah, but⁠—”

“But what?”

“I just… I don’t know… It looks like you were in a fight, and I thought that maybe you’d gone after Joey even though⁠—”

“You told me not to?”

“Yeah.” Gavin looked conflicted, as though he wasn’t quite sure what he wanted my response to be. But deep down, I knew what he wanted to hear. He would hate knowing any kind of fight had happened over him, even if that asshole deserved it. “Sooo, a cabinet?”

“Yeah, a cabinet.” The size of Joey’s fist. And that one pathetic punch he’d landed was actually starting to show. It had been easy to keep quiet with all our friends this afternoon, but it was getting harder and harder to deny what had really gone with every hour that passed.

“You really expect me to believe that?” Gavin moved closer to get a better look at my face. “That after what I told you about Joey, you suddenly show up the next day with a black eye but tell me you got it running into a cabinet door?” He shook his head. “How stupid do you think I am?”

He wasn’t stupid. Not at all. But if I admitted to hunting Joey down and breaking his face, Gavin would go postal, and for the first time in a while, he actually seemed to be back to his normal, joking self. So I lied.

“Do you really think Joey could get the better of me in a fight?”

Gavin’s gaze narrowed as he scanned my discolored eye, then he bit down into his lip. “No, but⁠—”

“Exactly. So what’s with the Spanish Inquisition?”

He took in a breath then reluctantly nodded. “You’re right. You said you wouldn’t touch him, and I trust you. I’m just… Ignore me. It’s been a long day moving, and you know what? Maybe if you ice that it’ll be less noticeable tomorrow.”

Unlikely, but hey, if it made him feel better… “Sure, why not.”

Gavin grabbed an ice pack out of the freezer. “Really, D, next time, be more careful.” He gently pressed the pack to the side of my face. “You could’ve taken your eye out. And you have nice eyes.”

I closed said eye, not wanting to look into his or acknowledge his compliment, as the scent of his cologne drifted around me. Guilt twisted in my gut like a knife, because while Gavin might not buy my lame-ass cabinet door excuse, I knew I’d managed to convince him with the Joey-couldn’t-even-get-one-in angle. Even if I had let him get one in.

“Okay, now, you hold this here while I go make up the couch.” Gavin stepped around me and made his way to what was now our couch. In a pair of loose sweats and t-shirt, he looked casual and cozy, at home in his skin as he picked up the sheet and flicked it out across the leather. But when he bent down to stuff the edges, those loose sweats stretched nice and tight across his high, round ass.

Jesus, since when have I looked at Gavin like that? Apparently since the moment our friends walked out the door tonight and the two of us were deemed “roommates.” Or maybe it was just the fact we were stuck in a space together with sheets and pillows, that I was just now noticing his really nice⁠—

“Daire?”

“Huh?”

“I just asked if you wanted to order any food—or I could make us an Irish coffee?”

The casual way he said us had my dick standing up ready to answer for me. But deciding to lead with the head on my shoulders instead of the one between my legs, I headed into the kitchen to grab the bottle of whiskey instead.

“Machine broke last week, so I’ll skip the coffee and just drink the whiskey. You want one?”

“Nah, I’m good.” Gavin plumped the pillow between his hands then tossed it at the end of the couch. “You might have a bad headache in the morning, though.”

I held up the shot glass. “That’s what this is for.”

The alcohol burned a fiery path down my throat, incinerating any guilt in its way, as I looked at Gavin, who’d curled his feet up under him on the couch.

How in the hell could anyone lay a hand on him in anger or otherwise? The thought infuriated me unlike anything I’d ever experienced, and I quickly downed another shot.

Shoving the bottle aside, I came out of the kitchen and stopped by the foot of the couch. “You sure you’re going to be okay out here?”

A small smile tugged at the corner of Gavin’s pink lips. “Why? You going to offer the other side of your bed after all?”

If I didn’t know better, I might’ve thought Gavin actually wanted to sleep in my damn bed. But that was ridiculous. He was clearly messing with me after what the guys had suggested earlier in the day.

“No. But I might get you another pillow.”

“So chivalrous. But I’ll be fine.” Gavin stretched his legs out and pulled the covers up over himself. “It won’t be for long, and this couch is pretty comfy.”

“Speak for yourself—my feet hang off the end.”

“Good thing I’m smaller than you, then, isn’t it?”

Gavin’s comment was innocent enough, but apparently my mind was on a one-way road tonight, because suddenly all I could think about was the way he’d fit perfectly in my arms as he rode my aching⁠—

“D?”

I blinked Gavin back into focus, willing my cock to calm down. The last thing I needed was for him to see me with a raging hard-on his first night here. “Yeah?”

“Before I forget, thanks for letting me move in.”

I shrugged, hoping he didn’t look below my waist. “No problem.”

“I’ll see you in the morning?”

“And apparently every morning after that.”

Gavin chuckled and snuggled into his pillow. “You don’t have to sound so horrified about it.”

I grunted but didn’t respond as I headed to my room, because horrified was the last thing I felt about Gavin moving in—and I had no fucking clue what to do with that.