Chapter 13 #2
I’m pretty sure that means I have deeper feelings for him, but I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do about those. We’re not even in an actual relationship, and I’m still screwing it up.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask once we’re safely in my car. Oliver’s leg is bouncing up and down so much I’m surprised the whole car isn’t shaking.
“Not really.”
I don’t have a good answer to that, so I put the car in drive.
Maybe once we get closer to his place, Oliver will be ready to open up.
Things between us have been… fine. Mostly.
We’ve stuck to our usual arrangement, but I’m not so clueless as not to notice the slight shifts in Oliver’s mood.
Each week, after I pick my clothes up off his bedroom floor and kiss him goodbye, it’s a full two or three days until his messages return to normal.
I still get the ones that mark his training for the day as complete, but they don’t include any of the silliness I’ve come to expect from him.
At first, I thought I was imagining things, but the pattern continued.
“Did Tyler say something to you?” I saw them over on the porch, deep in conversation. It was impossible to interrupt without it coming off as weird and clingy, so I left them alone. I know that’s not it, but I’m desperate for the answer to be anything but me.
“No.” He sighs and shifts in his seat. “What exactly are we?”
“Um… what do you want us to be?” It’s an apparent deflection on my part.
“Wait, I’m sorry. That was a shitty answer.
” I spot a park at the end of the road and pull into the lot.
It’ll be much safer if we do this when I’m not driving.
“Okay, that’s better.” I pull the emergency brake and take off my seat belt so I can face him. “Now we can have a real conversation.”
Oliver mumbles something that I can’t quite make-out. Given the expression on his face, that’s probably for the best.
“I don’t have a good answer for you, honestly. I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. What we are to each other.”
“And?”
I take a deep breath, not sure how this is going to go.
“I haven’t come up with anything good.” His face drops, the ghost of a smile that had been there wiped away entirely.
I hate that I’m hurting him in this, that I can’t come up with something that’s the least bit useful to say to fix things.
“Hey, that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop trying. It’s not you…”
“It’s me,” Oliver says sarcastically. I have to pause for a second to decipher his face, unsure if he’s finishing my sentence or trying to take on the blame.
“No, absolutely not.” I take his hands, a bit by force, but he eventually comes willingly.
“Look, I don’t have a lot of experience in the relationship department, and what little I do have is mostly terrible.
The women I’ve dated all told me that I’m not boyfriend material.
” They meant it, too. Came with receipts and everything.
None of it was wrong. I’m uncompromising when it comes to work, running, and my friends.
That leaves very few, and often strange, hours for developing a relationship with someone.
Offering a date at six in the morning as a substitute for a nice dinner doesn’t cut it.
“That’s ridiculous. You’re not even my boyfriend, and you’re still the best guy I’ve ever been with.” That’s a sad statement about the guys he’s dated in the past. One we should probably discuss another time.
“But what if that’s it? What if it only works because I’m not your boyfriend?” It’s easy to excuse the long hours of a friend. Much harder for a romantic entanglement.
Oliver scoffs. “Seriously? That must be some of the most messed-up logic I’ve ever heard. If you don’t want to be with me, say it. You don’t need to put on an act or make up stories to get rid of me. I might not like it, but I can take it.”
I shake my head. He clearly isn’t getting it.
“I know I can be a good friend. It’s all the other stuff that comes into play when things go wrong.
I start fucking it up. My schedule is erratic at best. I sleep at strange hours.
I get caught up on projects and completely forget what else I’m supposed to be doing.
My running schedule is not optional.” I stop short of telling him how they also complained that I wasn’t interesting enough in bed, that I didn’t take enough control of the situation.
“Aaron—”
I cut him off with a bit of a sob that I try to muffle. “I really like you.” I barely get the words out before the tears start.
Great, now I’m crying in the playground parking lot. Fucking great.
“Aaron.” Even with a tinge of pity in his tone, I love the way he says my name. I can hear the two As at the front. “Come here.”
I fall easily into his embrace. The console digs into my abdomen, but I’m willing to ignore it for a few minutes so I can have his strong arms wrapped around me.
It takes a few minutes and a lot of deep breathing before I’m able to pull myself together entirely.
When I sit back up, Oliver’s deep brown eyes are examining me.
“We don’t have to change anything if you don’t want to.” His tone is guarded. It’s not what he wants and, if I’m being honest, it’s not what I want either. I want more of Oliver and his sunshine in my life.
But dating is not one of my strong points.
Running makes sense. Machines make sense.
People are challenging, especially when it comes to romance.
As friends, Oliver and I have been doing great.
Our conversation and banter come easily.
I love hanging out with him, whether we’re watching TV, crocheting, or doing nothing.
I don’t even mind running with him, which is high praise.
And I’d be lying if I said we didn’t have chemistry in the bedroom. What I thought had been a fluke has only gotten better with time. I swear Oliver is studying my body, coming back each week with new ways to make me fall apart.
So maybe dating wouldn’t be so bad. If we take it slow and keep the pressure off, perhaps I can avoid all the issues I’ve had in the past.
“What if we did some beta testing?”
“I’m sorry, what?” Oliver looks at me like I’m losing my mind. Maybe I am if I’m suggesting something like this. I’m panicking, though, afraid I’m about to lose Oliver once and for all.
“We can take dating for a test drive. Low stakes to try and work out any of the bumps. That way, there’s less pressure on us to make it work.” Yeah, it sounds wild even when I try to explain it.
“I guess that makes sense.” His furrowed brow says otherwise.
“Like when I read an early version of a book to check and see if there are issues with it.” Oliver bobs his head from side to side, like he’s rolling the idea around in his brain.
God, I hope he concludes that it’s worth it.
That I’m worth it. “Okay. We can try that. What are the conditions here?”
“No conditions, but maybe we could not tell anyone just yet? That way, we can work out the problems before everyone knows.” And I can figure out how to tell my friends about us.
That part scares me almost as much as dating.
I should’ve been honest with them from the beginning, but now that so much time has passed, it feels impossible.
They’re going to want to know when it started.
Telling them about that first night is going to go over like a ton of bricks.
I can already picture Matthias’s disappointed face.
“I guess that would work. Just while we’re in the beta phase, though, right?”
“Right.”
“And while we’re doing that, we wouldn’t be dating anyone else? No other beta testing?”
“No, I want you all to myself.” My face heats at the admission. I’ve wondered multiple times if Oliver’s still on apps, trying to find someone. It takes a lot of restraint to keep from asking him about it, especially when he’s unavailable on a given night.
“Same.” A big grin spreads across his face. It gives me a sense of pride knowing that I made him feel that way. Maybe I won’t be shit at being a boyfriend this time.