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Oh no.
The list of tasks Dylan was supposed to get done ticker-taped across his mind like those old inclement weather alerts framing prime-time TV shows.
“Shoot. I’m sorry. I got dis—”
“—tracted.” Derek finished. “It’s fine.” He moved the toolbox to the side.
As some instinct made Dylan step forward, a yellow streetlight outside was just bright enough for Derek to see what Dylan was wearing, or actually, not wearing.
Derek gestured to his body with the hand that wasn’t holding a laundry bag full of scrubs. “You give me shit about not sleeping in a shirt and you’re just hanging out on the couch buckass naked watching a DVD menu.”
“Towel,” Dylan said feebly. It was almost a towel. All the full-sized ones were still dirty in the basket that Dylan still hadn’t put in the washer.
“That’s a literal washcloth, dude.”
That “dude” was enough for him to remember what had set off this afternoon’s bout of distraction. Anger boiled over, and he hadn’t even realized he was angry. “Sorry, bro. Must be so awful to come home to this after your special time with your friend—”
“Special time with…” The lines of Derek’s face knit into inscrutableness. “With Hudson?” Derek inhaled then exhaled once before speaking. “You’re… jealous.”
“Ha.”
Great comeback, Dylan. Truly inspired.
Dylan snatched up the overfull laundry basket sitting at his feet and held it in front of the insufficient towel. “I don’t give a crap that it seems like you’ve fucked every lacrosse player in a twenty-mile radius.”
“This is about body count? Never thought you’d be the type of person to shame a guy for—”
“This is about you being an asshole when I make mistakes from the first time we even met.” That was what it was about right? It was not jealousy. The anger was definitely not because he always ended up attracted to out-of-his-league men who would never want him “in a million years.” He took a calming breath. “I’m sorry… I’ve just got a lot going on with the renovations and work—”
“It’s fine.” With a frustrated huff, Derek opened the door to the bathroom as if literally exiting their conversation. “Can you just not throw my towel on the floor? I get that you’ve got ‘a lot going on’ but is that too much to ask? I’m really not trying to be an asshole, but this is basic roommate one-oh-one.”
“Shit. I’m really sorry. That was an accident. I really am being an asshole tonight.” Dylan ran around the couch with the laundry basket, but he slipped on a stray sock.
He dropped the laundry basket and crashed into Derek, who tripped over the toolbox he had just moved.
Derek caught himself before his head hit the ground, but the only thing Dylan could grab was the lamp on the entry table—one of Uncle Sean’s favorite antiques. He got both hands on the lamp to prevent it from shattering on the floor, but the cord caught on the bowl of spare keys and change.
Every naked inch of Dylan’s body landed on top of Derek while a hailstorm of pennies pelted them both.
Derek’s mouth had been set into a tight line, but then he laughed—actually laughed, scanning the jumbled mess of laundry they were basically swimming in.
“I swear I was just trying to get the towel to put it in the laundry basket, but I… shit, the laundry detergent.”
Derek still didn’t move except for a subtle twitch at the corner of his mouth. “Is the scent really that bad it bothers you right now?”
It took Dylan a second to understand what he was saying. “No, you smell great. Better than great.” An understatement. Dylan would have let his head bow forward but it would have meant resting it on Derek’s chest, although based on previous experience it was surprisingly comfortable for something that seemed chiseled from concrete. “No…”
Derek couldn’t conceal his effort at holding back a smile. “Good to know.”
“It’s just I was supposed to go to the store, and I—”
“It’s okay.” Derek’s throat bobbed. “Actually, I…”
A loud pounding sound came from the door.
Dylan scrambled off Derek, pushing the lamp back onto the side table as a carrying voice shrieked,“Mr. Gallagher? Mr. Gallagher? Are you okay?”
“Not again, Karen,” Derek said in the tone people used when saying Not today, Satan.