Eighteen
OLIVER
Incessant knocking and ringing of my doorbell are shaking the space in my brain.
My room that is supposed to be pitch black is blinding with prickling rays of sunlight.
Instantly I reach around trying to find a pillow to block it out.
But that consistent knocking doesn’t let up.
It’s not anyone that normally comes over because they all have keys.
I’m searching through the pain in my head when my phone starts vibrating on the side of my bed.
I can barely make out Mia’s picture lighting up my screen through my squinting eyes.
It’s my favorite picture of her. The only picture I have.
She’s glaring at me, flipping me off, with her tongue hanging out and a red lifesaver on the end of it..
Chaotic sunshine, every bit of her. The screen goes black before immediately lighting back up and I realize that I never answered the call.
“Answer your door or I’m leaving.” Her words come out before I can even say hello. “Seriously, who invites someone over and then doesn’t answer the door. If you are downstairs in your basement all sweaty again, you better have a shirt on before you answer this door or I swear to..”
“Or what?” I interrupt her.
“Or what?” I can hear confusion from across the phone and the softness of being caught off guard is endearing.
“Yeah, or what? If I answer my door all sweaty and shirtless, what will happen?”
She growls, “You’re insufferable. Come let me in.” I can’t help the smile that takes over. I hang up and grab sweats, no shirt. She might hit me when I open the door and I might like it.
I definitely feel the pain from the hits last night though.
Even walking makes the bruises swell with each breath.
The cut on my lip burning with the movement from talking.
Eli was so pissed that I allowed myself to get hit like I did, but my head wasn’t clear enough to care.
For the first time since I’ve been fighting at The Poolhouse I was searching for something outside of that hollowed out cement pool. And she wasn’t there.
Then I spiraled trying to figure out why that was so consequential to me. Before I was able to collect my focus, I was taking hit after hit and I got lost in the pain. Eli didn’t talk to me the whole way home. Maxwell patched me up. And AJ doesn’t know yet.
I open the door to her holding two coffees, a bag, balancing her ipad and phone in one hand, and a bag strapped over her shoulder. Her glare would probably make most men weary of letting her into their home but not me.
“Morning, pretty girl.” I grab the coffees and bag before she drops her carefully held tetris tower of items.
“Don’t pretty girl me. You’re not wearing a shirt.
” She smacks my bare chest with her now free hand.
I don’t even attempt to hide my amusement at her frustration.
“Oh my God. Are you laughing?” She asks as she walks through the doorway.
I make a weak attempt to hide my laughter behind the tray holding the coffees.
And I momentarily forget the way my face must look.
She drops her stuff on the bench by the door and is invading my space in a matter of a breath.
“What the hell happened?” Her small hand gently runs over the split of my lip as she takes in the rest of the bruising and swelling spotting my face.
One thing that is unsettling about Mia is her lack of boundaries.
It’s also the thing that showcases her heart the most.
I don’t pull away, instead I let her keep cataloging my injuries. “Fight was rough last night.” I clear my throat.
“You don’t lose.” She accuses me.
Lifting a shoulder, I say, “sometimes I do.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were fighting?” I set the coffees down and she pulls her hands away from me. Her perfect lips jut out the tiniest bit. There is no mistaking the soft hurt in her tone.
“Didn’t know you were interested in my fight schedule.” I lean with my forearm on the counter to get lower and closer to her eye level.
“Maybe I just like watching you bleed.” She scrunches her nose but I can still see the concern in her eyes.
“It’s just a few bruises, Mia. I promise I’m okay.” I know I said the right thing by the way her eyes soften. They are mostly green today but the brown and gold are hazily there.
The moment holds without either of us breathing too heavily to break it.
She’s not smiling and laughing until her eyes are filled with tears.
She’s not busily running around and taking care of everyone else.
She’s not fiercely protecting her space.
She’s quiet. I reach for the coffee to refrain from reaching out to touch her.
I nod to the far wall of the living room, it’s smaller than the rest and it always held our family photos in all mismatched frames.
Dad put Mom’s pictures from when she was younger in picture frames to hang among ours, always keeping her present as we grew.
He has the pictures decorating the bookshelves in his apartment now.
The wall has been empty for the past few years that I’ve owned the house.
Mia had sent me a few pictures of exposed brick walls in a home and I kept going back to the way it made me feel like there was a place within a place.
I love that idea. That we can escape the disappointment from the world in a safe place we create just for ourselves.
And then fill that place with the purest form of love.
“Remember the few ideas you sent me that had exposed brick?”
“Yeah…” She turns to face the wall with me.
A slow excited smile spreads across her lips.
“You’re going to let me do the whole wall?
!” Her whole body celebrates so enthusiastically that she throws her hands up, spilling her coffee, and flooding the floor around her feet when the cup falls. “Hot. Fucking. Hot.” She gasps out.
I rush to the closet that has all the towels and get back to her as fast as I can. However as soon as I round the corner I nearly tumble over the couch because she is standing there in her leggings and no bra. “Mia!” I attempt to toss her the towel while also turning around.
“You’ve seen them, don’t be weird.”
“Put them away.”
“If having my tits out is too much for you, probably don’t turn around.”
Damn it. I can’t stop myself from doing exactly that.
“Where the fuck are your pants?” She’s turned fully around now, standing only in the tiniest bit of fabric.
She bends over and unzips the bag she brought with her.
A large black shirt is now drowning her.
She is once again holding a mess in her hands and I realize it’s her clothes all bundled together.
She stomps right past me as she says, “I am not going to be sticky for the rest of the day. Do you like to be sticky? Of course not.” I follow right behind her as she walks through the kitchen and I barely manage to guide her out of the way of running into the island counter.
She never misses a beat and keeps marching down the back hallway that leads to the guest bathroom.
“I mean, I did have full intention to wear this shirt anyways. It’s one of my favorites.
So soft.” She moans, throwing her head back, and nearly walking into the door frame of the bathroom this time.
I manage to get my hand wrapped around the spot of the frame she almost hits her head on as she peaks inside the bathroom and pivots quickly.
I have no fucking idea where she’s going, but I’ve been around her enough to know that I’m just along for the ride until she figures it out.
She makes a left and pauses for a thoughtful second before deciding to go down another small hallway that leads to the back of the house.
“Good thing you’ve already seen me naked or this would be awkward.
” She starts laughing with her whole chest now and I have to shift her with a hand on her side before she hip-checks this skinny table I have in the hallway.
She spins, opens up the door before my bedroom door, and screams, “Found it!” The fucking laundry room. That’s what she was looking for.
She doesn’t even stop to ask permission or where anything is.
She just continues on like this is her home and I’m the one visiting.
“I promise to clean up the floor too. Obviously. But I wanted to get these put in the wash first. Since you decided that it’s atrocious to see me without pants all of a sudden.
” She pours in the soap and the fabric softener, working my machine with ease.
“Not very feral playboy fighter of you, Oliver.” I scratch the scruff starting to show on my jaw from where I haven’t shaved. She turns and raises her eyebrow at me.
She reaches up on her tiptoes to put the soap back on the shelf mounted over the washer. I don’t know how she got it down so easily to begin with or maybe I wasn’t paying attention. The shirt rides up to the point where the curve of her ass is peeking out from underneath.
“You think I don’t like seeing you without pants on?” I ask her, trying to clear the hunger to push the shirt up higher.
“You acted like I offended you earlier.” She argues back as her heels touch the ground again and the damn shirt falls back to her thighs.
“You being naked in my house and my mouth not on you is an offense, pretty girl.” I watch her mouth pop open in surprise at my words.
I clap my hands together and point both my index fingers at her.
“But that’s not why you are here. We have work to do.
” I leave the room and make my way back to the living room with the light patter of her feet behind me.
I’m going to spend the next few hours pretending that I don’t know she has no fucking bra on under that shirt and I don’t remember how soft her skin is.