20
Oliver
SHUTTING THE DOOR BEHIND her, I rounded my car—a sleek navy blue Ascari, still polished to perfection—to get in the driver’s seat. I didn’t drive my car often, the thought of driving around in the London traffic when it wasn’t absolutely needed gave me a headache and a half, but something told me that Raina would appreciate it. I’d pulled it out of the garage last night in the hopes that I could give her a ride if she was planning on being in the office, considering I had to be there too.
It was a good excuse to spend time with her, even if it was only just a few extra minutes. But I’d come back from my morning run, and she was already gone. Without thinking much of it, I stepped into the shower when I remembered she wasn’t a morning person and had been working from home to avoid the awkwardness in the office, and I realised that her having her head down and working on the Race report yesterday had nothing to do with a chaotic race—well, maybe it was a little bit—but it was also because she was avoiding me.
To my luck, she was part of the production team. She’d walked towards me in a dark knit fitted sweater that she paired with some trousers as she hugged her laptop. She’d barely talked to me before walking away. The studio was small and yet, she had managed to stay on the furthest end from the entire team, silently making notes in a tense posture.
Not that it stopped me from constantly finding small moments to watch her. If anything, to me, it only made her stand out more. The way she observed everyone as she bit her lip, furrowed her brows when the rest of the team did something as if confused, and the way she focused on her notes—with the tip of her tongue sticking out slightly, distracting me each time I noticed it. And the times when her eyes met mine made my heart beat faster.
Every. Single. Time.
Still, I wasn’t too bothered by her avoiding me, having got her phone number in the end. And as I said, a win is a win.
“Please don’t tell my brother that I got in an Ascari. I think he might have a stroke,” Raina stated as I shut my door.
Okay, maybe she won’t.
She watched me with a tired expression, and I couldn’t help the smile that formed on my lips.
“He is very much aware of the fact that I own this car,” I replied as the engine purred to life, the growling sound sending a thrill of comfort in me. I raised an eyebrow, and she rolled her eyes.
“It takes more than that to impress me,” She said, leaning back in her seat though I noticed her lips tilting up before I put the car into gear.
“Trust me, I know.”
She was a diamond heiress who had built her own brand by the ground and worked in the pioneer of motorsport, away from her father’s spotlight and career. Impressing her with materialistic things or grand gestures would get me nowhere, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to use all that I could while I tried to impress her in the way she wanted, and the smile told me it was working.
Keeping my focus on the road, I asked. “You hungry?”
“A little, but I made homemade bagels before I left this morning, and I’m still craving them.”
“What time did you wake up?” I frowned, throwing a sidelong glance.
“Somewhere around four… I think.”
I slowed the car as we hit a red light, turning to face her. “What’s going in that head of yours, Gorgeous? We both know that wasn’t an active choice.”
“You don’t know that; I did really have a couple of things I need to sort out early this morning.”
“Raina.”
Her shoulders slumped just as I turned back to the road. “I… don’t know.”
I glanced at her, catching the way she toyed with her sleeves, and I realised she was anxious. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
“It’s not that. I feel like it won’t make sense if I say it out loud.”
The light had turned green, so I started the car again. I waited for her to continue, throwing subtle sideways looks, but the more I drove, the more she twisted her sleeve. I frowned, annoyed at the fact I was doing this in a car and couldn’t give her my full attention.
“Fuck it,” I whispered as I pulled over at the side of the road and turned my blinkers on. Shifting in my seat, I met her wide eyes.
“What are you doing?”
“We are talking.”
“You don’t need to pull over on the side for that!”
“But I want to,” I wiped my grin on the back of my hand at her exasperation because something told me she wouldn’t have found my amusement any better.
“Oliver, you’re going to get us in trouble.”
I stilled, any traces of amusement disappearing from the air.
She bit her lip at the realisation, and I gulped. She hadn’t meant to say it either, but now that she had, I wanted to taste how it felt on her lips.
Our given name was something that was part of our identity, something that is shared with the whole world and somehow still among the most intimate things about someone.
But when you hear your name out loud in crowds, from bystanders and the media, there’s a point where you loose the true essence of it, almost making the doorway to your life an invisible glass.
Because once your name is known, once you allow it to be out there in the world, it’s not yours anymore. You can never take it back. Never enjoy the feeling of what it’s like being just another person.
I’d never known what that felt like, never knew it meant something more than being Oliver King.
But in that moment, I’d realised it was never about who said it, but how they said it.
Because the way someone says your name can show you exactly what you mean to them.
“Oliver.”
It sounded like a prayer and raised the hair on the back of my neck, but I couldn’t help but notice the frail edge in her brown eyes that stopped my train of thought. She was already anxious about what was going on in her head, me pulling over and then… this definitely didn’t help.
“Raina.”
Her eyes darted to the cars passing by around us before meeting mine. “This is silly.”
I frowned, “Why do you say that?”
“Because now, when I tell you what’s bothering me, you’d realise that you pulled over for something that is barely anything.”
“That’s still something.”
She stared at me for a beat before sighing. “You’re exhaustingly good at this, you know?”
“Exhaustingly?”
“Yes, exhaustingly. Makes everything so difficult. ”
“Well, I’m about to make it more difficult because I’m not moving until you tell me what’s bothering you.”
“Really regretting saying yes to this ride back home,” She muttered.
My hands moved instinctively, locking at the doors; even though I knew she wouldn’t try to get out in the middle of traffic, I wasn’t taking a chance. “This is worse than commuting during rush hour?”
She paused, her face scrunched slightly, making me chuckle as she spoke. “Okay, maybe not.”
We sat in silence for a minute. It wasn’t awkward, but the unsaid request still lingered in the air. She tugged on her sleeve again, and my hands itched to reach across and hold hers.
It was another minute before she spoke. “I just got scared.”
“Of what?”
“You.”
My chest tightened as I took her words in, but I didn’t let it show. Instead, I set my hand on the console between us, palm open in the air, inviting her as I spoke. “I’m scared, too.”
“You are?” She hesitated as she stared at my palm but eventually placed her hand in mine, and I clasped my fingers around it.
“Yes. Though I think we have different reasons.”
“What’s your reason?”
I rubbed my thumb over the back of her hand. “I’m scared that I’ve been dreaming of you.”
“ Me?”
“Yes.” I exhaled, my eyes trailing over her face. Her eyes were focused on me, almost expecting to add more to it, but I knew that she wasn’t ready for me to explain that in a short while. I’d come to know her; it felt like she was perfect in every way that mattered to me. But I knew that saying it out loud would overwhelm her, and I’d already done enough of that. “Why are you scared of me?”
“Not you per say. More like… how you make me feel,” She took a breath, almost like it would help her steady herself. “I’m worried that each day we spend together, I build us in my head and one day it will end badly. There’s already so much going on with my brothers, and I can barely cope with that. Plus, if Rihaan finds out about whatever… this is and doesn’t react well? It’ll be like repeating history, and I definitely know I won’t be able to handle that. I’ve already experienced what it’s like losing everyone at the same time, and I’m so tired of fighting with that voice in my head that keeps on warning me to be cautious. At least, when I don’t take a chance, it stays quiet. And it’s a kind of peace that is hard to work against.”
“But what about doing what your heart wants?”
“My heart lost its right to make any decisions a long time ago.”
“Does that make you happy?”
“It doesn’t make me cry.”
I gripped her hand gently, feeling her shiver under my hold. I hated how much her past held so much power that it was taking away her chance of living in the present, and I hated how helpless it made me feel in the moment.
“What can I do to help?”
She banged her softly on the backrest, her shoulder sagging. “That is a loaded question.”
“I never said it had to be a simple answer.”
She closed her eyes, and even though a knot in my chest formed at what I was about to ask, I asked anyway. “Do you want me to take a step back?”
Her eyes shot open, and her head turned in my direction.
“Before you answer, let me preface. I don’t want to; I want to know you, but if you ask me, I will do it. All you have to do is say.”
“No,” She murmured softly. “I want to know you too. But I can’t help that my brain works like this.”
“And I understand that. But at the same time, I also want you to know you can come to me. It won’t be easy, and I don’t expect it to be.”
“That won’t do any good. I don’t want to upset you when I spiral.”
I frowned. “Do you think I’m upset now?”
She hesitated. “Maybe… I don’t know?”
“Well, I’m not,” I replied softly. “We are communicating, and there is nothing to be upset about. Just because your brain works differently from mine, that is no reason to be upset, and I’m sorry that the voice in your head is trying to convince you otherwise, but that’s my point. You are overthinking? I will over-explain. If saying something over and over again gives you a little peace, I will give it to you in a heartbeat.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“Promises are meant to be broken. I’m giving you my word. And if that doesn’t mean much, let me prove to you that you can trust it.”
She pursed her lips, going over my words. For a minute, we sat like that. Our bodies faced each other, her hand still in mine as I brushed my thumb over the back of her hand.
Taking a final breath, she nodded, and finally, the knot in my chest loosened.