“It’s a long story. W-what do you want?”
Shane locked his lips but didn’t back off and instead just drilled his green eyes into Ros until his heart beat so fast it was choking him. “Brad told me you’re here. And… your dad threw you out?”
Ros sighed, making sure Shane wasn’t close enough to grab him. He could only hope his asshole roommates weren’t listening. “It’s none of your business,” he said, though a part of him was still desperate for it to be Shane’s business. Exhaustion had weakened his defenses, and despite their traumatic fight still being a thorn at the back of his mind, Shane’s true colors were a blur after a month.
Shane swallowed and hung his head but didn’t try to approach. “I’m sorry. About everything,” he forced out and looked up, his neck tensing.
How was Ros to know if this wasn’t another lie, another way to get to him? “My dad doesn’t care what I do anymore. There’s no reason for you to pursue me.”
“Come on, butterfly! Show ‘im off!” Jason yelled from the living room, making Ros boil on the inside. Of course those fuckers would eavesdrop on his private conversations, on the lookout for yet more reasons to mock the guy who was too polite, too clean, to fit in with their world. They’d never do that if Shane stayed.
Ros wished he could just forget about Shane’s betrayal and feel safe rolling into those warm arms.
Shane’s brows rose as he stared down the corridor, but he quickly returned his attention to Ros. “I’m here for you, not your father.”
“And I’m supposed to believe that because I’m a dumbass who already fell for all your lies once?”
Shane exhaled and punched the wall on the other side of the hallway so hard it left a dent. Not that it mattered when there were several other holes all around the house. “Look, I wanted to give it time. But then I came to the frat house, and they told me you came out over Christmas—why? You didn’t plan to do that until you were done with college!” he exclaimed, spinning around as if the violent outburst meant nothing.
“Because I want nothing to do with him! I’m done living on other people’s terms.” Ros took another step back, even though it brought him closer to Mitch and Jason. His outburst earned him a whistle from the living room.
“Won’t you shut up?” Shane snapped.
Ros gritted his teeth. “No, they won’t because they’re fucking assholes,” he yelled with his roommates as the intended audience. “I’d invite you to my room, but you know what? I don’t want you in my room!” Because I might fall for you and your lies again.
“Oooh! I hear you, princess!” Mitch yelled. “I’ll make sure to give you a closer shave next time.”
Ros froze in terror when the sharp sound of the blades cutting through his hair stabbed through his mind in a brief yet debilitating flashback. He only snapped out of the shock when Shane stalked into his personal space, with his rich scent and obvious strength. He was a monster, but having a monster on his side was so tempting right now.
Shane grabbed a strand of Ros’s shortened hair. “Does he mean—”
Ros looked away, because he was dangerously close to tears when he thought back to the violation he’d suffered. Many would have said it was just hair. But for him, that long mane had been much more. His pride and joy. The first symbol of his rebellion against Father, and something he considered a part of his personal charm, taken away by force. For the sake of a sick joke.
“It’s not your problem,” he muttered, but Shane was already in bulldozer mode and picked up Ros’s forearm, staring at the bruise around his wrist and the cigarette burn Mitch had ‘pranked’ him with.
“Was it those clowns?”
Ros took a shivery breath and nodded, biting his lips to fight the tears pushing at his eyelids. He’d promised himself not to cry over this again. “I’ll find a way to move soon anyway.”
“Come on,” Shane said and dragged him toward the noise, straight into the living room furnished with dirty old sofas and trash. The glow of the lamp blinded him as they entered, but Mitch’s laughter made him fight through the discomfort and look up.
“That your boyfriend?” Jason asked with his mouth full of the pasta he’d left on the counter over twenty-four hours ago. Who knew? If Ros was lucky, maybe he’d go down with food poisoning.
“I am,” Shane declared in a low voice. “Who did this?” he asked, raising Ros’s limp arm. “And this?” He touched the shortened hair.
Ros’s face went aflame, but he didn’t have the strength to protest.
“How come it’s the first time I see you then?” Jason asked with a shrug.