29
Raina
THE COLD WATER LEFT an almost painful feeling on my face. The chill of it seeping into my skin as I tugged a hoodie—probably Oliver’s—over my head. Over the last two months, I’d gradually built up my wardrobe to what it once was, but there was just a different comfort to wearing his hoodies that hung over my body.
Last night, I’d taken a long hot shower before we sat downstairs to watch the documentary—that was also my decision because I could appreciate it in all its glory in their theatre room, but lounge chairs, loud music and a dark room with flashing lights, when I was already yawning every couple minutes, sounded like a combination for a migraine instead. However, I think I still managed to stay awake for another 40 minutes after completely crashing out. The last thing I remembered was when Oliver carried me back to my room, and tucked me under before the world went dark.
Considering I’d spent over twelve hours in bed, I should be feeling well rested; sadly, there was such a thing called over consumption, even when it came to sleeping, because I felt like I woke up with a major hangover, not from a well-rested sleep.
Walking in the kitchen, I instantly spot Oliver who was sitting on one of the kitchen bar chairs as he typed away something on his laptop. As though feeling my presence in the room, he looked in my direction and Oh.
My body immediately brightened once I noticed that he was wearing a pair of reading glasses, which instantly changed his profile. His everyday vibe that screamed athletic but smart had changed to this studious nerd but hot vibe that sent flutters in different parts of my body.
Without thinking—which I’d noticed happened quite often when I was around him—I walked over to him as he opened his arm and I leaned on his side. A sigh left my lips as he ran his arm down my back.
“I thought you weren’t going to let me mess up my sleep schedule,” I grumbled, wrapping my arms around him, trying to soak in the heat he was throwing off.
He chuckled, placing a kiss on the top of my head, “I did try, but I was given the option to politely leave the room or have another meeting with a pillow on my face.”
My nose scrunched up as I looked up at him. “I thought I dreamt that.”
I didn’t think that, because now that he had said it, I could remember the threat vaguely as the memories came back to me.
“You dreaming about me, love?” He grinned.
“Clearly not if it actually happened?” I teased before tilting my head. “But to be sure, if between us anyone has been dreaming, it has been you.”
“All day, every day.” He nodded.
I shook my head at his directness, but I could feel my face heating up. As he pressed a kiss on my temple, I turned to look at his laptop. He had a document open along with what looked like some finance reports, and I frowned. “What are you working on?”
“Just something for Mum. I saw she was struggling with some bits when I went home,” He replied, but there was a… shy tone in his voice, and my heart warmed. “And I’ve got free time before my schedule picks up, considering all things go as planned, and I already have the means to do it, so why not.”
“That’s really sweet of you,” I whispered, and he gave me a smile before shrugging. That’s when I realised how easy it was for him to say sweet things to me, but when it came to hearing them, he really had no clue how to take them.
“What?” He asked, noticing the flicker in my eyes.
I shook my head lightly. “I like your glasses. They suit you.”
And just like that, that smile was back.
Oliver King’s love language was words of affirmation.
I bit my lip as the thought crossed over me. I always thought it was physical touch—I mean, it wasn’t my fault; pretty much all signs pointed towards that. I just didn’t realise until then that it was what he liked to show his affection in, but when it came to receiving, it was different.
“Have you heard back anything about dad and his meds?” I asked. We had only texted briefly about it when he went home, so I wasn’t too sure when they were supposed to get the reports back.
He sighed. “I mean, he definitely feels better this week, but they are still waiting to see if it’s just a slight remission or it was actually just the meds. I think his appointment was this morning, so we’ll know in a couple of days.”
I nodded, running my hand on his back as he took a deep breath.
Clearing his throat, he pointed to the brown package on the counter. “Something came for you.”
I stepped out of his hold, and walked over to where it was and inspected the packaging before remembering what it was.
“What is it?”
Sitting down on the chair next to him, I opened the package and showed it to him.
“You got screening tickets to go to the Women’s ODI final this month?” He asked, his lips curling up.
I nodded, surprised at actually how excited I was. It wasn’t tickets to an actual stadium—something I’d learned after he told me how weather impacted the cricket season. Apparently, if it was too damp or cold, it changed the entire play, and not just because the players would have to note the softer ground, but it made the spin of the ball unpredictable and often slow, so the home games were always held between late March and early October, unless it was a training camp or in his case, selectors match. Instead, while I was doing some of my research, I found that a group of girls partnered up with a local theatre where they did a live screening of the entire international tours of the Women’s team.
“I actually found them after we watched the documentary, and you gave me the idea of shooting one,” I replied, and his grin widened. “I’ve been speaking to Hazel a bit more about what she wanted my role to look like, and they are giving me free rein for the show, but they do want the focus for the first few months to be the men’s team, but part of my contract is still my own content, so I thought instead of doing what I was with F1, I take a new route because even if there are similarities, they are still very different and the more I looked into it, the more invested I got in the idea of doing the content which felt personal, and well this is Phase Two.”
“Phase Two?”
“Yeah. So, basically, I’ve broken down the whole thing into three phases. The first one will be right after Abu Dhabi, where I’ll start creating this transitioning phase with my content to create a link between the two and then find the people who are interested in both F1 and Cricket. I’m hoping to get you, and Axel—because he owes me—involved in it. Second, I will be building a new community with both, so this way, the old people who already like my content will get a chance to get invested in a new sport. And things like these clubs will be part of my way of sharing them how they can be further part of external communities but after I veto them.”
His gaze was a mix of amazement and curiosity as he took in my words, nodding at each suggestion like he loved the sound of it. “That sounds amazing. What’s the last phase?”
I shrugged, looking down at the box that had held the tickets and some stickers. “It’s between two options now, and I kind of need to plan the rest of it out first, do multiple trial and error runs and then decide.”
He pressed his lips before lifting his chin. “What are the two you’re in between?”
Shaking my head, I replied. “I haven’t done proper planning yet.”
“I have no clue what the end result is supposed to look like, so I won’t even know if it’s not a polished idea.”
Good point.
I tugged on my lip, going over the ideas in my head before speaking. “Well, if the idea of my content shifting isn’t taken on well, I’ll still obviously be going to races, so I would be focusing more on how I can take advantage of being in the same country or even continent during the F1 season and almost drag on content from that, while still doing some of the other stuff I did like mini vlogs, but the focus won’t be on the sport itself anymore.”
I waited for him to respond to that, but when he just gave me a look to continue, I released a breath.
Pulling on the cuff of my hoodie, I looked away from him before starting. “I was kind of toying with the idea of maybe starting a production house.”
When I was met with silence and his hand—the very one that could completely engulf mine easily—covering mine to stop me from further pulling on the cuff, I looked at him.
His eyes only held patience, but I could spot the glint that touched the edges, and it was all I needed to continue.
“I know I’m very articulate when it comes to producing the content, I know the kind of story to tell, but sometimes I’m not very accurate with the way I get the shots; I’m not afraid to accept my flaws, and just because I can do it, doesn’t mean I have to. That’s why I love my role at NexGen. Before, when I was creating my content, I used to get help from media students I knew at university; that’s actually how I met Kaira. She used to help me with my filming.”
“Ah, no way.”
I nodded. “But when I moved to NexGen, Hazel saw my work and allowed me to combine the two, so Noor and Josh—our filmmakers, helps me do some of my own content and my show so I can have similar but still different styles creating a harmony. But with this, I can completely focus on shooting something that is about the actual sport and not just a series tailored to the male gaze with different stereotypes.”
“I love that idea.” He nodded, and I smiled, slowly creating a list of things I could look into to make it bigger than I’d originally thought. “Anything I can do to help?”
Before I could reply, my stomach growled, and I pressed my lips together.
“Let’s start by feeding you,” He chuckled as he leaned closer. “You gonna finally tell me how you like your eggs now?”
My grin widened as I lifted my shoulder. “Depends.”
“On?”
“If you are willing to take pointers.”
“Hm… Will I get your undivided attention?” His face was only a couple of breaths away.
“Yes.” The words barely left me before his lips touched mine. The kiss was familiar, like he was making me aware of his touch, and then it turned into something softer and gentler before his hand cupped my neck. He pulled me in further for a second before he broke the kiss.
It was barely more than a minute, yet both of us were breathing unevenly as we stared at each other. My heart raced as giddy annoyance ran through me. “Tease.”
He laughed, leaning back completely like he absolutely did it on purpose. “You can have as many real ones after you let me take you on a date.”
I watched him get out of the chair and round the counter before he opened the fridge. Taking advantage of his focus diverted, I let myself linger on him. He was wearing a maroon jumper, probably some merch, as I noticed the emblem just above the hem that he had paired with some grey joggers. Just as my eyes trailed up, I saw the awareness prickle the back of his neck, and I let myself be bold. When his eyes connected with mine, I just raised my brows, and he shook his head knowingly.
Getting out of the chair, I made my way to the coffee machine, starting it before searching the room for my cats.
“They’ve had their breakfast,” Oliver said, placing his ingredients on the counter and I gave him an appreciative look as I grabbed my mug. “And I was promised undivided attention.”
“My bad,” I laughed softly before sitting back in my chair that was directly facing him.
“Now, all I need is the answer to both my questions. Eggs?”
“Scrambled,” I replied, meeting his eyes.
“And can I?”
“Yes.”