Chapter Six
Lark
I hummed under my breath as I tightened my ponytail.
It wasn’t any particular song, just a random tune my brain had decided to latch onto while I stood in front of the tiny bathroom mirror, trying to convince my hair to cooperate.
A few stubborn strands escaped the elastic the second I let go, framing my face no matter how many times I tucked them behind my ears.
“Good enough.”
I leaned closer to the mirror, inspected myself one last time, and shrugged.
There wasn’t much point in trying to look fancy.
We were going to the Dairy Bar. Again.
Yesterday had been full of cleaning and reminders that the Northbound Reapers had turned my workplace into another one of their crime scenes. We’d made progress, though. We’d cleaned and bleached everything.
Ever’s parents had shown up right at two o’clock, and we were pretty much done. It had been a few months since they had been to the Dairy Bar, so it had been a bit of a reunion for them and Ever.
Once they had realized that the place had survived the supposed crazed cow attack, they had shifted their focus to visiting old friends and heading to the casino. Wrecker had been pretty happy when Oliver and Jude had reported to them that everything was going good at the Dairy Bar.
I stepped out of the bathroom, still humming quietly as I grabbed my flip-flops from beside the bed. They slid onto my feet with familiar ease, and I looked down at myself.
Cutoff jean shorts. Bright red fitted T-shirt. Flip-flops. Not like I was headed anywhere glamorous.
The Dairy Bar had pretty much been my life before all of this happened anyway.
The only difference now was that I didn’t have a choice.
Before, I worked because I loved it; now, working felt like the closest thing to getting my normal life back.
I’d always joked that I practically lived at the Dairy Bar. Now I actually missed it.
Funny how quickly normal became something you longed for once someone took it away.
I grabbed my phone from the nightstand, slipped it into my back pocket, and headed for the door.
One hand rested on the knob and I glanced back over my shoulder at the room.
It still didn’t feel like mine.
The bed was made. My overnight bag sat neatly against the wall. A borrowed hoodie hung over the chair in the corner.
Temporary. Everything about this room felt temporary.
I pulled open the door and then immediately walked straight into something solid. “Oh!”
My forehead hit what felt like a warm brick wall.
Not an actual brick wall.
A very broad... very solid... very warm man.
The impact knocked me backward before I even realized what I’d run into. Strong hands caught me before gravity could finish the job. One settled against my waist and the other wrapped around my upper arm, steadying me with surprising gentleness.
My balance wasn’t the only thing thrown off. Every single one of my senses suddenly seemed determined to focus on the man standing in front of me.
Oliver.
Warm.
Comforting.
Dangerously distracting.
I tipped my head back. “Oh...” The word escaped before I could stop it.
He looked even better than he had the night before.
Morning light spilled through the hallway window behind him, catching the dark blond hair on top of his head and the neatly faded sides. His beard was trimmed close enough to look intentional but full enough that I couldn’t stop wondering what it would feel like beneath my fingertips.
Would it be rough? Soft? Some combination of both?
His blue eyes met mine. Calm and steady. Impossible to read.
Except, not completely. There was a flicker of annoyance when I looked up at him.
Not because I’d walked into him. Because I already knew what I was about to say. “Ollie,” I gasped.
There it was. That tiny twitch in his jaw. His mouth pressed into a straight line for all of half a second. I waited for the correction. Don’t call me that.
Instead... nothing.
“Morning,” he grunted.
Well, that was new.
I smiled before I could help myself.
His hands were still on my waist. Warm. Firm. Comforting.
I stepped back. At least, I tried to, but his hands didn’t move immediately. For one strange moment, neither of us seemed entirely sure what we were doing.
Then I looked down. Back up. “Uh...”
His eyes followed mine, and he immediately let go.
I couldn’t help laughing. “You normally like hanging out outside girls’ rooms?”
“Just yours.” The answer came so quickly that it caught both of us off guard.
I blinked. Did... Did Oliver just make a joke again?
I looked at him carefully. His face hadn’t changed much. Still serious. Still reserved. Still looking like smiling required paperwork.
But... There. The tiniest hint of amusement lingered in his eyes. “Oh...” I said intelligently. “Uh... Okay.” Now I was the awkward one. Fantastic.
Neither of us spoke. We just stood there looking at each other. The silence stretched long enough that I finally tilted my head.
“So...” Nothing. “Is this what we’re doing today?”
His eyebrow lifted. “What?”
“Just staring at each other.”
“It would make this easier for me.”
I frowned. “Easier?”
He nodded once.
I looked down the hallway, then back at him. “Easier how?”
He held my gaze another second before finally taking a step backward.
“But...” He exhaled slowly. “I know that won’t work for you.”
I smiled. “Nope.”
“I figured.”
Another tiny almost-smile.
It disappeared so quickly I would’ve thought I’d imagined it if I hadn’t been looking directly at him.
“So,” he continued, “let’s eat.”
“I like food.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“And then...” He turned toward the common room. “We’ll head out.”
I followed him into the hallway. “Head out?”
He nodded.
My eyebrows climbed. “Wait.” He stopped so I could catch up beside him. “Where are we going?”
He looked at me.
“The Dairy Bar?”
He shook his head. “No.”
That surprised me enough to stop walking. “Then where are we going?”
He motioned with one hand for me to walk ahead of him.
“You’ll find out when we get there.”
I narrowed my eyes playfully. “Mysterious.”
He didn’t answer.
“You know,” I continued as we started down the hallway together, “for somebody who barely talks, you’re surprisingly good at keeping secrets.”
“I’ve had practice.”
There wasn’t any humor in that answer. Just quiet certainty. Something about the way he said it made me glance sideways at him.
There it was again. That tiny glimpse beneath the surface.
Oliver didn’t talk much. He didn’t joke much. He definitely didn’t volunteer personal information. But every once in a while, something slipped through the cracks.
A sentence.
A look.
A piece of whatever life had made him into the man walking beside me.
And every single one of those little moments made me want to know him more.
I smiled to myself. Interesting. Very interesting.
If Oliver wanted to surprise me with wherever we were going, I was more than happy to let him.