Chapter 33
Luke
Eager to get Oliver safe and sound, I didn’t entertain the thought of returning to the firm for my own vehicle. The need to have him home outweighed everything else. I asked the team to drive us straight to our place.
In the middle seats, I sat beside Oliver, my hand in his. Head on my shoulder, he dozed off into the borderland between waking and sleep.
We had called Paul as we were leaving the lot with an update, and he’d given me the next few days off to be with Oliver.
By the time the SUV stopped outside the condominium complex, Oliver stirred. “Are we here?” he asked, his voice scratchy and faint.
“Yes, we’re home, angel. Let’s get you inside, wrapped up in a blanket, and with a mug of chamomile tea in hand. How does that sound?”
“Perfect.”
I exchanged quiet farewells and my thanks to the team, before turning my full attention to Oliver.
Inside, I led him up to the bedroom, where I took off his shoes, dressing him in a pair of sweats and tucking the blankets around him.
I bent and pressed a kiss onto his forehead.
“I’ll get that tea started. Be right back. ”
“Okay,” he murmured.
With the tea brewed and an ice pack in hand, I made my way back up the stairs. “How are you feeling, less weird?”
“A little.”
“That’s a trend I like, but per my review, the patient is in need of comprehensive care administered liberally and without delay.”
“Alright, doc, lay it on me, what’s needed?”
“First, we’re going to get this tea in you,” I said, passing him the mug. “It’s already cooled to safe-drinking level. No tongue casualties on my watch.”
Oliver took several slow sips, before passing the cup back.
“Next we’re gonna get some ice on that bruise.
” I positioned the cool pack over the swelling on his cheekbone, sliding into the bed next to him and opening my arms. “Finally, extensive medical research suggests cuddles dramatically improve outcomes. And as luck would have it, I’m board-certified in the field of holding you.
Treatment protocol states you must tuck yourself right here. ”
He complied, curling into me. “Mm, yes, this is nice,” he mumbled into my chest. After a beat, he tilted his face up. “But there’s something else I think would help even more.”
“Name it, and it’s yours.”
“I’d like it if you’d kiss me,” he said.
“I wholeheartedly approve of adding this to the treatment plan,” I said, kissing him.
A contented sound left him as our lips parted. “That helped, but maybe not quite enough.”
“Noted, the patient is requesting additional intervention. What else do you think would help?”
“I think you need to kiss me all over.”
“All over, huh? That sounds like an advanced treatment, but I’m all about patient advocacy.
First we check vitals,” I said, pressing a kiss to the column of his throat.
“Pulse: steady.” I peppered the line of his jaw with more kisses, then one on the tip of his nose.
“Respiration: sweet and steady, trending toward content.” I placed a peck on both cheeks, feather-light.
“Color: flushed and decidedly adorable.” I kissed the corner of his mouth, then the corner of the other side for symmetry, then finished with another, deeper kiss on his lips.
“You were brave tonight. So damn brave. And so badass,” I said between kisses.
“Not until you showed up. When he came into the room, I got so scared. I froze. I let him control me, the way he always did. I wasn’t brave. I was a coward. I sat in silence. I let everyone down and I let myself down.” His voice broke, collapsing into heaving unrestrained sobs.
“That’s not truth talking, it’s that cruel voice in your head, and it’s lying to you.
It’s time for our game of flip the script, yeah?
Running into your abuser without warning, in your safe space, would shake anyone.
Just staying in that room with him for over an hour took a kind of courage most people will never understand.
And when your body and mind finally caught up, you acted.
You protected yourself. None of that says weak to me.
Every second of it says strength. It says resilience. It says survivor.”
“But I didn’t do anything right. When I tried to run after we got outside he caught me.
When I tried to shove him away he hit me.
I forgot every maneuver you taught me until you were right beside me.
I’m as useless as Vincent always said, relying on other people to give me strength.
Without you, I’m nothing but a sniveling weakling. I need you to make me brave.”
I cupped his face, careful of the bruise, forcing him to meet my gaze.
“You are none of those things and you didn’t need me to make you brave.
I just reminded you what existed in you already.
Everything you did you did on your own. You broke his grip.
You sent him to the pavement. You protected yourself.
You got free. I didn’t do that, you did.
You were not a failure. Not today, not ever. ”
His throat bobbed, and his eyes shimmered bright with fresh tears. “God, I’m sorry. Things were light and perfect. I don’t know why I’m falling apart like this now.”
“It’s the adrenaline crash,” I said, wiping his cheeks. “Your emotions can get a bit haywire after a fight like that. Let them come. Cry, shake, rage, fall apart if you need to. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”
He sniffed, searching my face. “You sure I’m still brave like this?”
“Angel, bravery doesn’t mean you defeat physiology. How about this, we watch the video and you can see for yourself. Knowing Shawn, he’s already sent it. What do you say? Want to see how kickass you were?”
“Yeah. Okay. Show me.”
I fished his phone off the nightstand. Predictably Shawn had not only sent the video, but also a string of sparkly emojis, three crowns, and a queen energy activated GIF.
“I like him,” Oliver said. “You work with good people.”
“I do. I’m lucky to have a team that rallies like they all did tonight.”
“I’m glad you have that kind of team. People who show up for you the way you show up for everyone else. You deserve that. Now don’t keep me in suspense. Let’s see what Shawn was raving about.”
I hit play.
Oliver tucked himself into me, head resting beneath my jaw as the footage began.
His mouth dropped open as he watched how he reacted to my voice, executing every maneuver perfectly.
The flip. The strike. The clean disengage.
The sprint toward safety. My chest puffed with so much pride it was a miracle my shirt didn’t split open.
“That’s me,” he whispered when the video ended, his eyes wide.
“It is you,” I said.
He rewound it and watched again. “Look at that! I did it. I really kicked his ass.”
“You did,” I said, grinning because damn, watching him see himself as the badass I already knew he was? Top-ten life moment. Easily.
He watched it again. By the fifth time, his mouth curved into a smirk. “Shawn was right. I will definitely be referencing that footage later for alternative purposes.”
I buried my nose into his hair. “Alternative purposes?”
“Purely therapeutic self-care.”
“Like to boost morale?”
“That’s one way to put it.”
“I like that idea,” I said. “You could schedule motivational rewatches every night before bed. Fall asleep replaying how badass you are. Build confidence, positive self-image, all that.”
“Luke.”
“Yeah?”
“I meant I’m going to jerk off to it, honey.”
“Oh. Oh. Right. Yep. Copy that. Tracking.” I gave him an awkward thumbs-up.
His laugh shook against me. “God, I love you.”
“I just, my brain wasn’t in that zone,” I muttered, playing at the nape of his neck. “I thought we were still in the emotional-comfort portion of my services package.”
“We are,” he said, snuggling closer. “But emotional comfort and horniness can coexist and overlap. It’s called layers.”
He didn’t mean anything by it, but the way he said it felt like getting snapped with a rubber band.
For him, emotional comfort and sexy-brain could show up to the same party without a scheduling conflict.
For me, while they could arrive together, and definitely had with Oliver, they were far more known to RSVP to entirely different events, miles apart.
And if I were deep in comfort mode, horniness wouldn’t even have been notified there was a party happening.
“Are you horny right now?” I asked. I hoped that the answer wouldn’t require me to decline intimacy he wanted.
I knew all too well how fast “not tonight” could get twisted into “I don’t want you.
” For so many people, wanting closeness and wanting sex were one and the same.
I’d been on the receiving end of that guilt trip, where a powered-down libido got treated like rejection.
It sucked. Honestly, it was a big part of why I’d stayed single so long. Less heartbreak all around.
I trusted Oliver. If anyone got that desire wasn’t always one-size-fits-all, he did.
But we hadn’t hit this specific crossroads together yet, where he was in the mood but I was parked about ten exits back, and the old worry surfaced.
The fear he might hear “I’m not up for sex” as “I don’t love you,” and start tallying all the times I didn’t want it then eventually decide I wasn’t enough.
But after the hell of tonight, any wiring to the below-the-waist department had been ripped out of the wall.
Power grid fried. I ran on emergency backup only.
Three systems active: protect Oliver, soothe Oliver, stay as close as physically possible to Oliver.
Sex wasn’t just off the table it was in another building, on another continent, behind a locked door.
One I didn’t have a key to tonight. All I wanted was this, a safe, warm, fully clothed cuddle puddle.
Oliver kissed the corner of my mouth. “Relax, handsome. I’m not asking for anything.”