39. Ollie
Chapter 39
Ollie
It’s a little after ten when I’m finally done installing solar panels on the roof of the van. Really it's a job better suited to daytime, but it means I can get electrics hooked up soon, then finish building out the units and the bed frame. From there, it’s mostly cosmetic finishes and tweaks.
Everyone in the van build community says you never know if your set-up works for you until you’re out on the road, and I'm hoping to have a few practice nights away before summer comes.
My mind is never far from Megan, and I try my best not to wonder how she's doing, or text her for an update. When I’m crossing the carpark on the way back to our building, I spot a light turn on.
She’s home.
I bolt up the stairs and burst through the doorway, nearly tripping over the heels she’s abandoned, alongside another pair of shoes I don’t recognise. My heart beats out of my chest at the sound of male laughter coming from the living room.
Fuck.
“Heeey,” Megan says, all happy and smiley and clearly under the influence. She’s sitting sideways in her spot on the sofa, the hem of her dress riding up her thigh.
Some boring looking dude in pale khakis and a striped shirt sits in the middle, far too close for my liking. At some point this evening Megan has taken her hair down and I feel a knot in my chest knowing that he got to witness it. I love watching her do that.
Only when I clock Megan glaring at me, do I realise I’m still standing here, and I’ve not said anything.
“Hi,” is all I can manage, waving at them both like a fucking loser.
“This is my—” A look of panic flashes across her face as she gestures towards me, and I lift one eyebrow while I wait for her to figure out how to introduce me. “My friend Ollie. Ollie, this is Pi.”
I cannot have heard that properly. “ Pie? ”
“Yes,” she says, her mouth pinching together in that way she does when she’s trying not to laugh.
“Like apple pie?”
“Like the equation,” he says, reaching out to offer his hand. “My birthday is March 14th.”
His palm is clammy, and I give him the briefest handshake before stepping back to the doorway and wiping it off on my sleeve.
He better not have touched her with that hand.
“Right. Good to meet you, man.” There is no way I’m leaving her alone with this guy. “Megan, can I have a word with you before I head to bed?”
“Sure.”
She hops up and follows me along the hallway into the bathroom. Locking the door behind her, I turn on the tap so he can't hear us.
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
“Pi? You're really on a date with a man called Pi?” I push my sleeves back and lather up my hands to remove all traces of him.
“Don't be cruel. His friends gave him that nickname years ago.”
“Sure, but he's not a child, is he? Why can't you call him his real name?” The only sound is me furiously scrubbing at my skin with the nail brush. “You don't know his real name, do you?”
She covers her face with her hands and shakes her head.
“Jesus, Megan, you're bringing guys back and you don't even know their names?”
“You told me to date!” she hisses.
“Not guys called Pi!” I whisper-yell back, shutting off the water and reaching past her for a towel. Her bottom lip disappears behind her teeth and I lean in and pluck it without thinking.
“Are you going to fuck him?”
“What?” she gasps. Her hands settle on her hips and she stares at me. I might die if I don’t get my hands on those hips soon. “You can't ask me that.”
“I need to know.”
“Why?”
“Because if you're gonna fuck him, I need to go out. I can't listen to you moaning ‘oh Pi, oh fuck me harder Pi’. Do you hear how ridiculous that sounds?”
Her hand covers her mouth, and she stifles a laugh. “It is kind of a ridiculous name. But don’t worry, I'm not going to sleep with him.”
“Then why is he here?”
“We just came back to watch some TV and talk.”
A pained growl rumbles out of me. “You cannot be that na?ve.”
“You’re making a big deal over nothing, Ollie. Come and join us if you don’t believe me. You can be my chaperone.” She unlocks the door, flicking her hair over her shoulder as she heads back to the living room. I chase after her. I don’t want her alone in our house with this creep. And he is a creep. I can feel it.
As soon as Megan steps into the living room, she stops abruptly, and I crash into the back of her, sending us both stumbling forward.
There on the sofa, on our fucking sofa, Pi sits fully naked, arms spread out across the back of the cushions like he’s God’s gift to women. His cock is aggressively hard, pointing straight up at the ceiling.
Rushing in front of Megan, I shove her back into the hallway while she stares at me with wide, horrified eyes.
“Go to your room right now.” I push the door closed behind her and lean against it in case she tries to come back in.
My fists curl, and I want to beat the shit out of this presumptuous prick for thinking he can pull a move like that on her. God knows what would have happened if I didn’t come back inside in time.
“Sorry mate, Megan has a migraine. She has to go straight to bed, so you can leave.”
“Fuck’s sake,” he grunts, so I step out and take a few deep breaths while he puts his clothes back on.
Violence is never the answer, but I need him out of here before I do something I regret. When he appears, I barricade Megan’s door like her own personal security guard. If he wants her, he’ll have to go through me and that’s never fucking happening.
“Can I just—” he says, still buckling his belt as he passes me.
“No. Whatever it is, the answer is no.”
I can’t believe he thought he could push himself on her, after she thought they were just coming back to watch TV and chat. The TV wasn’t even fucking on. After he lets himself out, I rush after him and yell down the corridor.
“Oi! Delete her number and forget she exists.”
I’ve got no right to be this protective of her, but I don’t care if that’s a dick move. I double lock the door and down a pint of water in the kitchen, willing the hammering in my chest to fuck off so we can have a rational conversation.
Dropping my forehead against her bedroom door, I knock gently and wait until I hear her tell me to come in. Megan sits at the edge of her bed, with her head in her hands, and fuck if that doesn’t make me feel even worse that someone’s upset her.
“Is he gone?” she asks sheepishly, and I crouch down in front of her, one hand resting gently on her knee.
“He’s gone. Are you OK?”
“I think I’m in shock,” she says, collapsing into giggles as she falls back onto the bed. “I left the room for one minute, he must have stripped so fast. Why was it so purple?”
Oh, this is funny to her? Well, I’m not laughing.
“New rule. You can't bring guys back here.”
She props herself up on her elbows and cocks her head to one side. “Oh, now you want rules?”
From this angle, she looks brazen, seductive, and far too tempting. I will myself to not let my gaze drift to where her dress is riding up her smooth thighs, but it’s too late. I’m already fucking looking.
If she parted her legs, even just an inch, I’d have the best view on the planet, and my cock thickens at the thought of it. My hands itch with the need to cup her calves and spread them further, then further again. To hook my arms underneath her thighs and yank her down the bed until her arse perches on the edge and the only thing between my mouth and her pussy is the scrap of whatever underwear she picked out for tonight.
She’d better be wearing fucking underwear.
She crosses one leg over the other, forcing me to snap out of it and get back to my feet. I find a safer spot by the door before I turn into a man no better than the one I just kicked out.
“Seriously, Megan. What were you thinking?”
“I'm thinking I'm in my thirties and I deserve to be loved, Ollie,” she whines, sitting upright, folding her arms across her chest.
“By that guy?”
“I'm not an idiot. I know the love of my life isn't just going to randomly turn up one day.”
“Right.”
Like there’s absolutely no way a guy you’d never look at twice could turn up on your doorstep, move into your spare room, and be the man who could make you happy. I hear that loud and clear.
“You have to kiss a lot of frogs,” she continues. “So maybe Pi wasn't going to be the one. I'm allowed to have a little fun, aren’t I? Wasn’t that what you wanted me to do?”
My anger practically chokes me at the thought of her having any kind of fun with him. “That guy wasn't going to be fun.”
“How do you know?”
“He still had his socks on!” I yell. “He'd have made you blow him, given you a weak, two-pump fuck, then left. I bet he wouldn't even have made you come.”
“Oh, and you would?” she snaps back, and my next sentence is out of my mouth before I can even think about the weight of it.
“Of course I fucking would!” Megan gasps, which has the exquisite effect of pushing her tits higher in that dress, which only scrambles my brain even further. “I don't care about much, but I care about you. I want you to be safe and happy. Don’t bring men you barely know to your house. What would your dad think?”
Megan leaps from her bed and closes the space between us, one hand wrapping around the edge of the door. If she slams it in my face, it’s the least I deserve.
“How would my dad even know about my dating life, Ollie? Are you gonna ring him and tell him what I’ve been up to?”
I’ve never seen her stick up for herself like this, and it renders me speechless. All I can do is stand there, eyes locked, my chest rising and falling in time with hers. She jabs one finger against my sternum, forcing me back into the hallway.
“And to think you were worried about me acting like a big sister when it’s you pulling this ridiculous protective brother act.”
“ You’re ridiculous,” I snap, letting my frustration get the better of me.
“No, you’re ridiculous,” she yells back.
“No, you are! Don’t fucking call me that again.” I lean closer, my eyes level with hers, her pretty pouty mouth just inches from mine. “The things I'd do to you would land me in jail if I was your brother.”
I rush to my room before I can make things any worse and, as expected, hear her door slam behind me.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I am fucked.
This has gone way beyond just physical attraction now. I like her. I feel protective of her. I'm falling for her.
My beautiful, brilliant, completely out of my league roommate who thinks I’m nothing but a child. Her saying I’m like a brother is the final straw. I know she’ll never think of me the way I think of her, but after all the time we’ve been spending together, I hoped she’d at least see me as a friend.
Except I’ve just overstepped so hard I’ve blown all hopes of lasting friendship, and it will be impossible to sleep knowing she’s fuming at me from the other side of the wall.
I grab my pillow from the bed, and my sleeping bag from underneath it, but when I attempt to slip out of the flat undetected, she barrels out of her room and we barge straight into each other.
“Where are you going?” she asks, eyeing up the bedding in my arms.
“To sleep in the van.”
“Fine,” she shrugs, folding her arms and staring down at the space between us. Her toenails are a pretty shade of pink and I feel another wave of frustration knowing she made an effort for that dickhead.
“Did you need something?” I ask, hoping she'll tell me to stay, but she nods in the direction of the kitchen.
“Water.”
I step aside to let her past, wondering if there’s anything I can say to salvage this shitty evening, but she beats me to it.
“Are we still going to the party tomorrow?” she says, her voice wobbling.
Megan agreed to come with me as a favour and as a friend. Right now I’m surprised she’s not asking me to move out immediately, but of course she’s thinking about my parents’ anniversary celebrations because she’s always putting everyone else first. I don’t want her to feel obligated when she can’t even look me in the eye.
“Only if you still want to.”
Her chin lifts, and she shrugs dismissively. “I said I would, didn’t I?”
“Fine, then we’ll go.”
“Fine. Have fun in the van.” She sweeps her hair over her shoulder as she hurries to the kitchen, and I head out into the dark before we start arguing again.