Chapter Twelve
Lane
When I got back to my house, my exhaustion was tempered by the fact that the place was a fucking mess, and I’d invited Oliver to stay with me.
“What the fuck was I thinking?” I asked Sparrow as I threw dirty washing into the machine and turned it on. Sparrow just stared at me from her place on the kitchen floor, where she was doing her best impression of a starving puddle of fluff. “You’re right. I wasn’t.”
It didn’t make any sense. One minute, I was cursing Oliver’s name and hoping I never saw him again, the next I was hooking up with him and inviting him to move in with me.
Maybe I should just donate my brain to science, then someone might be able to figure out what the ever-loving fuck it was playing at.
I washed the couple of dirty plates and mugs in the sink, then grabbed some cleaning supplies and headed upstairs to the bathroom. It wasn’t too dirty, but there was hair around the sink from where I’d shaved and a little bit of toothpaste on the mirror.
After that, I grabbed a fresh set of sheets from the airing cupboard and remade the bed, making sure my room was presentable and I hadn’t left any dirty pants on the floor or a bottle of lube on the side. Although we might want that.
I left the lube close at hand on my side of the bed and dug in the drawer to find some condoms, just in case. We’d gone without last time, but that didn’t mean Oliver would want to again. It was obvious from our earlier exchange that we were going to have sex, but I wanted him to be comfortable.
I’d just finished shoving the dirty sheets into the washing basket when there was a knock on the door, and Sparrow gave a half-hearted woof.
“Some guard dog you are,” I muttered as I stumbled down the stairs, running my hand through my hair. It was too short to get messy, though, so I wasn’t sure why I was bothering. I took a deep breath, then opened the door.
Oliver stood on the front step, suitcase at his side. He looked as nervous as I felt and like he was seriously reconsidering the whole idea.
“Hey,” I said. “You found it.”
“Even I can follow basic directions,” he said as I waved him inside. “Are you sure this is okay? I don’t want to put you out.”
“It’s fine, honestly.” And it was a bit bloody late to change my mind now. “Are you okay being here?”
“Yeah… it’s nice. Better than trying not to get in your way. Plus, you have Wi-Fi, a shower that works, and a kitchen.”
I chuckled, the tension leeching from my chest. “I’m basically a cheap hotel.”
“But one with benefits.”
I closed the door behind him and realised just how close we were. My brain was debating whether just to drag him straight upstairs or do the polite thing and offer him a drink first. Politeness won but only by the skin of its teeth.
“Do you want a drink? You can just leave your suitcase there”—I pointed to a space by the stairs—“and we can take it up in a bit.”
“A drink sounds great.” Oliver slid his suitcase into place and bent down to untie his shoes, slipping them off and lining them up next to my work boots. I ducked down the short hallway and into the kitchen, opening the fridge door to grab myself a beer.
“What did you want? I’ve got beer, cider, water, tea, or Pepsi Max.”
“Pepsi, please.”
I pulled out a bottle of beer for myself, and a can of Pepsi Max for Oliver before flipping the cap off the beer with a nearby bottle opener.
It was from a local brewery that had opened a couple of years ago and started doing both a subscription and delivery service.
I hadn’t been convinced at first, but then the guys had bought me a subscription for my birthday, and when it lapsed, I’d renewed it as a treat to myself.
Oliver appeared in the kitchen and plucked the can from my hands before looking around the room. His expression melted when he saw Sparrow, who was still doing her best puddle impression.
“Hey, Sparrow,” Oliver said in a soft, cooing voice, and Sparrow raised her head at the sound. “Hey, baby girl. Look at you all grown up.”
Sparrow huffed, and her tail thumped on the tiles. Then she slid onto her paws, stretched deeply, and pottered over to Oliver to say hello. I frowned because her movement was a little stiffer than normal, and I made a mental note to check the dosage on her joint supplement.
She probably needed to get up and move about more during the day too, so maybe I’d take her to Oliver’s tomorrow, and she could potter about the cottage garden in the sunshine.
“Such a beautiful lady,” Oliver said as he crouched down to rub her ears and scratch her chest, chuckling as she licked his face and pressed into his hands.
He was still holding his can of Pepsi Max, which made things more difficult, but Sparrow didn’t care.
Her tail had turned into a helicopter, and her whole body was wiggling.
I hadn’t seen her this excited over a guest in years.
“Do you remember me? I remember you. You’re still just as fluffy. Yes! Such a good girl.”
Oliver turned his head and looked up at me with a bright smile. “She looks so good. It’s so lovely to see her again.”
“She’s happy to see you too.”
“That’s because she’s perfect.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and stood. Sparrow pressed her head against his leg, and Oliver continued to rub her ears with one hand. He was right next to me, so close I could lean over and kiss him.
“So,” I said suddenly lost for words. I searched around for something to talk about, then remembered something Oliver had mentioned when I’d arrived at the cottage that morning. “How did your author meeting go?”
“Great! I haven’t seen Anders in person for ages, so it was nice to catch up, and I got to meet his boyfriend, who is lovely, and I discovered his brother runs The Sleeping Goose.”
I frowned for a second. “Wait, your author is Soren’s brother? Anders Flynn?”
“Yeah. Do you know him?”
“Only in passing but Spencer does. I think he goes down to Novel Tea quite a lot.”
Oliver nodded. “Yeah, Spencer was there today and told me how much he loved Anders’s books.
He recommended I check them out, then promptly suggested we discuss them on Friday when he discovered I’d edited them—well, the more recent ones anyway.
” He cracked the can open and took a sip, still rubbing Sparrow’s ears.
“I didn’t say anything, though, about Friday I mean.
I wasn’t sure if the invitation was a recurring one. ”
“Of course it is. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“I don’t know,” he said, twisting the can in his hand. “I didn’t want to make it weird.”
“I think it’s a bit late for that,” I said. “This is weird.”
“Mmm, I guess it is.” He didn’t look convinced, and I cursed myself for not explaining myself properly.
“It’s not a bad thing, but you have to admit this whole thing is kinda weird. Two weeks ago, we hadn’t spoken in nine years, now we’re fucking, and you’re staying in my house. I don’t think either of us expected this to happen.”
“True,” Oliver said, and I saw a smile starting to form on his perfect mouth. I’d always loved making Oliver smile, and that feeling didn’t seem to have faded. “I guess we just have to embrace the weirdness. Or try not to think about it too much.”
“I’m not sure which one is easiest, but I’m picking that option,” I said with a chuckle, and Oliver laughed.
“I don’t think we’ve got an easy option. We’ve just got a slightly less difficult one.”
“I’m pretty sure you just described the word easy.” I stepped closer to him, and I could have sworn I felt a crackle of electricity spark across my skin.
“Less difficult doesn’t mean easy,” Oliver said, his smile turning sharp. “Easy means without difficulty or without great effort.”
“You sound like you swallowed a dictionary,” I said. “That shouldn’t be as sexy as it is.”
“Sexy? You think I’m sexy?” Oliver sounded surprised as if he’d never considered the word in relation to himself. I closed the gap between us.
“Seriously? Have you not seen yourself? You’re fucking gorgeous, Oliver. Like seriously fucking sexy. And your intelligence is sexy too.”
“Knowing the definition of easy is not intelligence,” Oliver said.
“Why are you arguing with me? Don’t you want me to think you’re sexy?” I lowered my voice and leant in close, letting my words ghost over his skin. Oliver sucked in a breath.
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know what?”
“Why I’m arguing,” he said quietly. I turned my head and found myself looking into his deep, dark eyes. They were the colour of melted chocolate, and I’d never been able to resist them. They had hidden depths that pulled me in, and I was helpless to resist their enchantment.
“Then don’t. At least not over this. Just accept the fact that I think you’re sexy.”
“Okay.” He nodded. My fingers brushed against his wrist, and he leant in to press his lips against mine. It had only been two days since I’d last kissed him, but it felt like the first rainstorm after a drought.
Before Saturday, I’d thought I’d never be able to kiss him again, and now that I could, it was like my body wanted to make up for lost time.
Oliver’s tongue teased at the seam of my lips, and I opened my mouth to let him in. My fingers closed around his wrist while my other came up to wrap around his neck and pull him closer. Oliver groaned, the sound sending a pulse of need straight to my dick.
“We should go upstairs,” he said, breaking away and gazing down at me, desperation written across his face.
I’d always loved that Oliver was taller than me, and now the idea that I could bring him to his knees with just one kiss was too powerful to contemplate.
There were so many things I could do to him, so many ways I could bring him more pleasure than he’d ever known, but in truth, Oliver was the one who held me in his sway.
Whatever he wanted I’d give him without a second thought.
“We should.” Something brushed against my leg, and I looked down to see Sparrow giving me intense amounts of side-eye.
Clearly, she did not approve of the kissing, probably because it had delayed her dinner.
Since she only got two meals a day, Sparrow considered them sacred and immovable, and nothing was meant to get in their way.
I chuckled, and Oliver raised an eyebrow, then he looked down. “Oh shit! I’m sorry, Sparrow.” He stepped back, a blush tinting his cheeks.
“It’s not your fault. She wants food,” I said. “You take your suitcase upstairs. My room is on the right. It’s the only one with a bed, so you can’t miss it. I’ll feed the monster before she starts screaming at me, and I’ll be upstairs in two minutes.”
Oliver grinned. “I’ll time you.” He put the can of Pepsi Max on the side and sauntered out of the room while I stared at his ass.
“I don’t hear movement,” he called. “And I’m not afraid to start without you.”