Twenty
Oz
The sight of her curled up on the sofa, softly snoring, would be cute, but the damn candle, still lit and too close to her, made this scene an anxiety-ridden nightmare waiting to happen. She had to stop doing that. I couldn’t stay here all the time and go after her to keep her safe. I needed her to at least cooperate. Jesus, it was a fucking flame on a wooden table maybe three feet from her face. One I did not want messed up or harmed.
I set down the items I had brought with me before walking over to her. On my way, I saw the empty wine bottle and went to pick it up. A seven-hundred-dollar bottle of 1968 Mayacamas Vineyards Late Harvest Zinfandel. I studied the rest of the items around her. The empty glass she’d drunk out of, the box of Goldfish, and a pint of chocolate ice cream that was melting and dripping off the table and onto the rug below. She’d had a little party, it seemed. I grinned and picked up the ice cream, then went to get something to clean it up, noticing the television had been left on.
Lucifer . What the hell was that? A TV series about Satan? I thought she watched crime shows.
I walked into the kitchen to toss the ice cream and get a soapy washcloth to clean the ice cream up before her rug was stained. It was a dark blue-gray color, so it should be okay. If it had been the creamy-colored one in her bedroom, that would have probably been ruined.
I bent down, and my eyes went to her face like a fucking magnet. After she’d disappeared today, I’d been restless, wanting night to come so I could get here. Seeing those eyes open, looking at me, had hit my chest hard. Those eight weeks had seemed like an eternity since I’d had those brown eyes locked on me.
She’d been unhappy about it, too, but not about me. There was surprise, shock, and interest, and then she got a look at Halo, and everything changed. She’d been…annoyed and fucking unhappy about it.
I scrubbed the carpet, then wiped down the table and made sure all the melted ice cream was cleaned before standing back up. I stood over her, letting that peace that watching her gave me sink in and soothe away the stress the candle had caused me.
“You were jealous,” I whispered, pleased with that fact.
She hadn’t seen me in two months. I might have seen her every night since and sometimes during the day, but she hadn’t seen me. When she had gotten a look at me today, she hadn’t wanted to stop. It took Toby, the dickwad, touching her and repeating himself for the third time to get her attention. I liked that I had that power over her. I wasn’t sure how she’d feel about seeing me again just yet, but I made the decision in that moment that I was going to let her.
I went as far as placing myself directly in her line of sight, wanting her to find me. Halo had forced Bane to go when I asked her to help me out with this. I had known asking Bane to go would be a solid no, so I went to the one who held the power over him. Halo wanted to take Hawkins to his first festival, and Bane wasn’t about to tell her no. I could have gone alone, but I thought having them there would make it appear as if I were there with someone, not stalking her. Because I wasn’t stalking. I was protecting.
When we had been there for two hours and I watched as Toby tried to impress her—playing carnival games; buying her cheeseburger egg rolls, which she didn’t seem to like because she only took one bite; and stopping to talk to people they knew, making sure everyone saw them together—I’d had enough. I was tired of her looking at him. I wanted her to put those eyes on me. And see her reaction.
She did.
And the reaction I got was better than I’d hoped.
Except she promptly left. That part I didn’t like. She had run from me. I wanted to think it was because she had thought Halo was my date and didn’t want to see it. But there was the concern that she had been afraid of me and I wasn’t dealing with that well. It had been two months. I hadn’t hurt her or scared her. I had stayed away—well, at least from her sight. She had to see I wasn’t going to hurt her.
Sighing, I started to pick up the empty bottle to toss it and stopped. She might have passed out drunk and could think she just didn’t remember putting the ice cream in the trash and blowing out the candle, but if I did anything else, it would stand out.
After seeing her today and her reaction, this wouldn’t be enough anymore. I was gonna need to see her eyes when they were open. I wanted her to look at me again. I should continue as we were for a while longer, but I couldn’t. When she had left today, I’d felt a franticness crawl through me. I hadn’t been done. I’d wanted to see those dark brown eyes focused on me. Read her expression. That box I had been trying to keep her in did more than open today. It had exploded. Needing to know what tomorrow held for her, I surveyed the area until I saw her phone tucked under her side. That couldn’t be comfortable.
I eased it out, inhaling her intoxicating scent, then straightened to unlock it.
The screen that appeared, however, was filled with images of me. Frowning, I realized she’d been on the web browser. My last name was in the search bar. My first and last name—the latter I had never given her.
Well, well, well, my little investigator, look at you.
I grinned and went to the history to see what all she had found out about me.
My grandfather’s Wikipedia page. She’d searched my full name and found him since he was the first Oz Savelle. She knew my family history—or at least what the rest of the world knew. I continued to scroll through and found Carver’s Bootleg Whiskey. Before that had just been a search for Oz, Madison, Mississippi , which hadn’t given her any leads. I went back to the distillery’s website and wondered how the hell she’d linked me with them.
I thought back, and then it hit me. The fucking shirt. The one I’d given her to wear in Louisiana. I suppressed an impressed chuckle.
Note to self: if I ever need someone to do a little digging for me and Wilder isn’t available, I’ll ask Winslet.
She had found all this while drinking a bottle of wine. What the fuck could she find sober? The woman was in the wrong profession. Private investigation was a more lucrative job than teaching. Not that I’d be able to let her do that. It could be dangerous. As a second-grade teacher, the only things I had to worry about bothering her were jealous bitches taking advantage of her, small germ-covered humans making her sick, and then of course Toby annoying the fuck out of her. None of which were going to kill her.
I went to her text messages. Five unread from Toby. That was it. His tires were going. Tonight. I was over this. Every day he texted or called, bad shit was gonna happen to him until he got the hint to stay away.
Toby
I had a great time today. I hope your migraine is better. If you’re up to it, why don’t we go see a movie?
Toby
There are two new ones that I hear are really good.
Toby
I told my mom about you. She wants you to come to Sunday lunch soon. If you’re up for that next weekend.
Toby
Guess you’re still lying in the dark to get your migraine better.
Toby
Can I bring you something? Soup? Pain medicine?
Holy fucking hell, dipshit. She was ignoring you. Get a damn clue.
Jesus. He had serious issues. And inviting her to his mom’s because she’d agreed to go to goddamn festival with him.
I went to his number, blocked him, then deleted his texts. If she saw that he had sent them last night, maybe she would chalk it up to the bottle of nice wine she’d drunk. I didn’t care. If she wasn’t going to block him, I sure as hell was.
The regular Marley texts were the only other texts she had gotten today. Good. The teachers had left her alone. I closed the phone, then placed it on the table before blowing out the candle. I looked back at the bottle, then at her. She didn’t look comfortable. Her neck was going to have a crick in it. Fuck it. She was passed out; I was taking my chances. If she woke up, then maybe she’d think it was a drunken dream, but I was not going to be able to leave her in here like this. She had a bed, and she needed to be in it, where she could get a better night’s sleep.
I went over and bent down to scoop her up, pulling her body against my chest. I liked this too much. I’d liked it the last time I did it too. She nuzzled her nose against my pec and let out a satisfied-sounding purr. Smiling, I walked her back to the bedroom. I wanted to sit down in the chair in here and hold her, but that would lead to her waking up sooner and freaking her the fuck out. Reluctantly, I laid her down, then pulled the covers over her body.
These were my favorite out of her pajamas. The baby-blue camisole and shorts were made of soft knit, and they didn’t cover shit. I had even gotten to see one of her dark quarter-sized nipples one night when she rolled over and the top stretched, causing the tempting peak to pop out. That time, I’d had to rub one off before I left. It had been a real long time since I’d jerked off to a nipple, but it was hers, and that had made the difference.
I took in one more long, slow look at her, stopping at each feature and leaving her chin for last. Didn’t seem like she had plans tomorrow—at least nothing new. Which meant she’d go to the grocery store just after breakfast. Turning, I left the room and went to the items I had brought inside with me.
This was probably pushing it, but I wanted her to have this fucking stuffed animal. She’d looked at it, and a smile had touched her lips. She never said the words—I knew because my complete focus had been on her face. Her gaze had gone back to it three times before she turned and found me watching her while I ate Halo’s popcorn.
Taking the sloth that Bane had mocked me like a bitch for winning, I set it on the sofa. She could work through this however she needed, but I was giving her the thing. I had won it for her, and it had taken one try. Unlike Toby, who had failed and not even paid the six measly bucks to try again. I glanced at the empty bottle of wine. Someone could have stopped by and given it to her, and she didn’t remember. I scowled, not wanting her to think Toby had. But I wanted her to have it more than my jealousy over a guy she didn’t like.
The other item I had brought was a necessity. Especially after coming in here and finding her passed out that close to a flame. And what if I had been called into family business and not come tonight? Sure, she could have very well woken up with the candle burned all the way down or still lit with no harm done. But it was the what-ifs that fucking terrorized me. I went over to the cube attached to the phone charger she kept in here, deciding this was the best spot, then replaced it with the cube I had. It was similar enough that she wouldn’t notice the difference. Once I had it back the way she had left it, I moved over to the sofa and pulled the app up on my phone. The room filled my screen, and I could see myself clearly, as well as the sofa, the damn candle, the door, and even part of the kitchen counter. Satisfied, I clicked it off and slid my phone into my pocket before heading toward the door.
I could have put the hidden camera that came built into the cube in her bedroom or bathroom, but I hadn’t. She’d get naked in those two places. I was respecting her privacy…and keeping myself from jacking off several times a day. I did it enough already since, lately, I hadn’t been interested in fucking anyone else.