It's nearing nine, and the place is empty. Grace and I are leaning against the front of the counter while Halston dumps the last of the iced coffee basins. I'm telling them about everything that went down after the meet. Dres is in the kitchen but I keep my voice low, anyway, not willing to run the chance of him hearing me.

     "Isn't it weird that he, just, like, backed you up against a wall, like that?" Halston asks when I finish giving them every detail I've remembered.

     Grace shakes her head. "It's not weird. It's hot."

     "Yeah, but why did he do it, ya' know?" Halston asks inquisitively. "Do you think he's trying to confuse you to get the truth?"

     Grace laughs. "Distracting you with sexual tension? Well, you can't say he doesn't know you. Th real question is, are you to have Dres handle James? Because something's gotta get done here. He could've blinded you."

     "No one's handling James," I say firmly. "Seriously. I don't want this to become a bigger issue. And I don't want Dres involved in any of it."

     "Your eye looks so bad, Cas." Halston frowns. "You need to put more ice on it. I'll get you some."

     I stop her before she can move, thinking I should probably face Dres before things get even more awkward between us. "Actually, I'll get it."

     Dres is sliding clean trays into the cabinet when I walk in. He's already got the counters wiped down and the sink emptied. It's impossible to tell that the kitchen has even been used today at all.

     "You're still here?" he asks with his back to me. Maybe he knows the sound of my steps now. I like to think that's the reason he knows what its me. A man can dream.

     I go, "You didn't have to lie for me."

     He turns to me and says, "I know."

     "Why did you?" I ask, coming up to the island between us. I lean against it.

     He answers simply, walking around the island towards me, "Can't have my only employee up and leave me."

     "You have Halston," I point out.

     One side of his mouth lifts into a wry smirk. "Suppose I just prefer having you around," he says and he's serious. He's not making a joke, not making light of the situation. My lungs stop being lungs and deflate like balloons, instead.

     Before I can respond, not that I know what I'd say, he goes, "You should be icing that," as he takes the towel from my hand.

     "So were you never going to tell me about the army?" I ask, my tone kind of haughtily.

     "What about the army?" he responds, purposely vague.

     "You know what about the army. That you were in it for one thing."

     He comes back, hands over the ice, and I gently place it to my face, thinking it's a lost cause at this point.

     "You never asked," he says.

     "How would I know to? You give nothing away." He laughs quietly because it's true. "Oh yeah laugh it up." I mean it. Please continue laughing and don't ever stop. When Dres laughs, earth's core shatters just a bit, a tiny fissure that lets the sun soak through.

     He quiets and we stare at each other while the silence ensues. I try to think of something clever to say.

     He says, "You should go home, get some sleep."

     "I can sleep tomorrow."

     Dres makes a face, leans forward some, and rests his arm on the counter so he's almost trapping me. Not completely. Not like before. But close. Still, the proximity makes my heart rate jerk. My mouth is dry and I want to lick my lips but I don't dare move. I'm not even sure I'm breathing.

     "About what happened today," he says slowly. His voice has gotten low like we're discussing a secret.

     I cut him off. "I know, I know. They aren't going to stop until I do something about it. I'll figure it out."

     "No, the uh, the uh...other thing."

     "Oh," I say unsurely. And then, "Oh!" My face flames and why is he bringing this up? I jump, trying to put some distance between us but Dres steps toward, forcing me back against the counter, stuck in place. Unless I want to barrell into his chest, which I might. Want to, that is. It looks like a very nice chest.

     He puts his hands on my shoulders to pin me into place. "Cas – it's not a big deal. Seriously. So stop freaking out."

     I stare at him, trying to decide if it's not a big deal because these things happen all the time around him or because he wasn't offended by it. Maybe he liked it. No, that's absurd. Of course he didn't.

     "Okay?" he asks when I don't say anything.

     I nod, barely. "Yeah, okay." I wait for him to let me go. He does but the response is delayed. I counted. Twelve seconds. A lot can happen in twelves. But a lot can not happen, too, I guess. 

     Then I add as an afterthought, "It's not like I'm prone to freaking out."

     "Oh, you most definitely are," he says, amused. I make a face, offended. Dres almost smiles. "You're just a little dramatic, is all."

     "Oh, cause that's better," I exclaim, realizing belatedly that my reaction is only proving his point. "I am not dramatic," I say sulkily.

     He's laughing at me now and I've all but forgotten why this conversation even went the way it did. I have to hold back my own laughter because it pains me too much.

     "It's okay, I like it," he says softly.

     I don't have to try to hold back my laughter now. There's nothing to hold back. I'm silenced by his admission. My brain replays it on a loop. He likes it.

     He stops laughing and then he's just staring. I set down the ice to stare back at him. There is no sound between us, just eyes.

     Dres lifts his hand. I fight every instinct that tells me to move. He reaches out, slowly, and touches my chin, turning my face up to him.

     "Does it hurt?" he asks, running his thumb over my cheek lightly.

     "Yes," I say without pretext. It hurts to want, to pine, to think and think and think about you all of the time. Yes, a thousand times over. It does, in fact, hurt.

     He breathes heavily, both a sigh and a huff at the same time — the noise is all frustration. "You're under my skin, Calvin," he says and I blink at him, not knowing what that means. He lifts an eyebrow at me, his expression curious. "Does that freak you out?"

     "You freak me out, Dres," I say, honest, too honest, and start to pivot around him. I am definitely freaking out. "I should get going."

     He blinks at me, shifting out of the way to let me pass. He appears somewhere else completely. I'm not even sure he heard me.

     I back pedal towards the doorway, my heart rate moving so nauseatingly quick it's becoming difficult to digest everything's that just happened. Dres's hand on my face. My shoulders. Down my chest. He's touched me more in this one day than he has this year. And it's not enough. I'm realizing that it'll never enough. That I'm always going to want more and to be closer to him.

     I clear my throat and say, "So I'll see you Monday, I guess?"

     "Actually," Dres says, his tone different. "See me tomorrow. Here. Come by at four."

     Confused, and unsure, I ask, "Why?"

     "We're going to a movie."