Rumor

Dean tips the bartender generously, scoops up his beer, and heads back to the table. J.W. and Forrest are waiting, laughing around the lips of their own beer bottles, watching some poor sap get suckered out of his money by pool sharks.

His chair barely scrapes the floor when Jay looks away from the sucker being hustled and tips his head, the beginnings of a brutal interrogation turning the gears in his brain. "Where you been, Cain? I've barely seen you all week and , Forrest here, said it practically took an act of congress to get you out tonight!"

"Oh, uh," Dean fumbles for an explanation, nervously shuffling a hand through his hair – he hadn't been as meticulous with the gel as he usually is and he regrets it, now. Jay sniffs out nervous liars like a damn bloodhound, eagerly awaiting an explanation for why it had been such a hard sell to get him out of the house. "Teri's been up at my place, this week."

"Week?" Forrest raises a blonde brow at his older cousin, imploring for more information.

"Yeah, she, uh, she had an invitation to a movie premiere up in Malibu on Sunday," Dean shrugs it off – it isn't that big of a deal, but to them it would be an invitation for further questioning. "I went with her and we didn't get back to my place until after two in the morning, so she crashed in my guest room." With that, he pulls a long drag from his beer, pausing mid-gulp when he sees the disbelieving looks worn by his friends – well, one friend, and one cousin. A hard swallow and the bottle against splintered wood. "Dammit! What?" he finally spits, cheeks flaming at the squeaky quality of his voice.

"You crash at someone's house for a night, Cain, not a whole damn week!" Jay points out, eyes twinkling – he's going to take this centimeter he's been given and stretch it into a whole mile, Dean can tell already. "And what did she do for clothes? I don't see that tiny little thing wearing your clothes!"

"Jay, that implies that he let her wear anyway." Forrest wiggles his eyebrows in a ridiculous manner that is meant to be suggestive.

"She keeps extra clothes at my place, you jackasses!" Dean growls, tipping his up and swallowing half in one pull.

That earns him an incredulous look from Forrest and a sort of amused, but mostly bewildered look from J.W. It isn't like they didn't know Teri - Dean had made proper introductions, and she'd even come out to dinner with them a few times, but they did not know she kept clothes at Dean's place. "So, she, ahem," Forrest covers his laughter with a forced cough. "She has clothes at your place?"

"Yes," Dean rolls his eyes at how ridiculous they're being about this. "She works in Malibu, sometimes, so she stays with me. It's cheaper than a hotel so I bought her some clothes to keep there."

"So, not only does this woman have clothes at your place, but they were bought specifically for your place because she stays with you when she's in Malibu? And you bought them?" Jay repeats the information slowly, trying his best to process without sounding like a child in need of a simplification. "How, uh," he shifts. "How often does this happen?"

"Once or twice a month, asshole." Dean growls, looking down at the table with a resigned sigh. "Whenever she has work, she takes over my guest room."

"So, what did you do, this week?" J.W. inquires, raising an eyebrow at his friend.

"She spent Monday nursing one hell of a hangover, and then we just hung out." Dean laughs at the memory of a miserable Teri cursing her love of mixed drinks while curling around a cup of coffee on his couch. "I took her to that sushi place, we tried. We watched a few movies, and she cooked dinner. We drank some wine. With Chris in college, and me not knowing how to cook, it was nice having her, and she needed a break so," he shrugs it off - another nervous habit. He doesn't want to tell them this but if he doesn't, they'll hassle him until he finally caves. "She just stayed; I don't know."