Chapter Five
Mason
Going to the bookstore to see Olive is probably a bad idea, but I'm slowly losing my mind. It's been a week since she called the police on my mother's bird, and I haven't seen her once.
I've taken to lingering in the front yard like a goddamn nuisance, trying to catch her off guard. So far, no dice. She's avoiding the hell out of me. It's making me nuts.
I need to see her again.
So the bookstore is my only option. I know she's here today. I called ahead to ask. That's right. I've officially reached the willing-to-do-shady-shit-to-win level of whatever game the two of us are playing. I'm harassing her coworkers and friends now.
The woman I spoke with—I think she said her name is Jazz—asked if I was the hot neighbor with the murder bird. I'm not sure if that's a good sign or a bad sign, but she promised to stall Olive long enough for me to get here.
My girl is setting up a display table, lost in her work, when I stroll in. She doesn't hear the bell. She doesn't see me, either. She's meticulously arranging books wrapped in kraft paper, humming to herself. She looks as beautiful as ever in a soft pink sweater and a black skirt.
The woman at the counter sees me staring at Olive, looks me up and down, and then smirks before vanishing into the back.
I take a step toward Olive, clearing my throat.
She freezes.
"You've been avoiding me, Rebel," I growl softly, stalking toward her before she decides to bolt for the back.
"Yes," she admits, shocking me. I expected a furious denial. "I've been busy, Mason."
"Yeah? Busy with what?"
"Well, the first few days, I was busy researching which European country I should move to, and how to legally change my name," she says without turning around.
"But that seemed like a lot of paperwork and manual labor, and I don't want to do either.
So then I started looking for an apology card, but apparently, no one makes one that says, 'Sorry I thought you were a serial killer and called 9-1-1 on your bird'.
" Her shoulders slump. "Now, I'm busy trying to work up the nerve to knock on your door to apologize. "
"How's that going for you?" I ask, stopping right behind her.
"Not so well," she admits. "Turns out, I'm a coward."
I take a chance and reach out, curving my hand around her waist. She spins toward me, looking up at me with those big green eyes that see all the way to my goddamn soul.
"I'm so, so, so, so sor—"
I cut her off with my lips on hers.
She gasps, giving me the opening I've been dreaming about for two weeks already. I yank her into my arms, my tongue flicking against hers in a way that's less kissing and more a demonstration of what I plan to do to her as soon as she'll let me.
I devour her, tasting mint, coffee, and that sweetness that's stamped into every inch of her. She quivers against me, making this sound that has my dick pressing up against my fly, hard and desperate.
The book in her hand tumbles to the floor before she's got her fingers in my hair, anchoring my body to hers, kissing me back with the same desperation.
The way she moves against me is a goddamn dream.
Believe me, I know. I've had nothing but dreams about her since she told me she was stealing mail.
"Fuck," I groan, grinding my dick against her soft belly. "I've been losing my mind over you, Rebel."
"I'm sorry."
I crane her head back, forcing her to meet my gaze. "Say whatever it is you need to say so I can say what I need to say."
She stares at me for just a moment before taking a big breath. "I'm so sorry that I thought you were a serial killer and called the police on your bird. I feel like a jerk, and I'd really, really like it if you'd forgive me."
"Forgiven," I growl.
She blinks wide eyes at me. "What? Really? Just like that?"
"Yeah, baby, just like that." I chuckle, stroking the side of her face.
"Honestly? I'm surprised you're the only one who's called 9-1-1 on Paulina.
She repeats lines from Law & Order like she's auditioning for a role, and she's fucking smart, so she does it at the worst possible times.
I think she wants the world to think I'm a goddamn serial killer. "
Olive's lips twitch. "She was screaming for help."
"She does that when she's pissed at me."
"She was also screaming murder."
"Yeah, she does that, too. She also calls me an asshole fifty times a day, has a crush on Stabler, and will shit in my laundry out of spite if I leave the bathroom door open."
"I thought you had someone chained up in your basement."
"I'm guessing my choice of reading material didn't help, did it?" Jesus. No wonder she's been so goddamn suspicious of me. She was losing her mind, worried I had someone chained up in my house, and I was just strolling in, buying the most unhinged, serial-killer smut available.
Fuck my life. I asked for help finding a book about a man who had a woman chained to his bed.
I was just teasing her at the time, but I'm guessing she probably didn't see it that way.
In retrospect, probably not the kind of book to ask for help finding when your hot-as-fuck neighbor thinks you're a serial killer, and you're about to ask her out.
"You're being way too nice about this," she mutters. "You're supposed to be offended and angry."
"I'm not. Having the police show up at the door, demanding to be taken to whoever was screaming was not ideal, but the look on their faces when they saw Paulina in her cage, screaming about murder and calling me an asshole was priceless.
" I chuckle at the memory. "Don't think they're going to forget it anytime soon. "
"I'm so sorry," Olive groans, faceplanting into my chest.
"Baby," I say, chuckling. "It's all good. I got a good laugh out of it, and so did the responding officers. They got a video to take back to the precinct, and they get to tell everyone forever that a bird demanded they arrest me."
Olive giggles softly. "So…what you're saying is that your bird is a savage like Oscar."
"Pretty much," I confirm. "She bites, too. She was normal before my mom died. I probably shouldn't have tried to console her with Law & Order. Now, she's addicted and diabolical."
Olive sobers, pulling back to peek up at me. "Can we…can we start over?" she asks hopefully. "I promise not to assume you're a serial killer this time."
"We can," I say, "but I have one condition."
It's cute how fucking nervous she looks. "O-okay?"
"Go out with me."
I want to kiss the surprise from her face, then tumble her to the floor and fuck her raw, in that order.
"You still want to go out with me?"
"Why wouldn't I? I mean, I know you wash your hair and shave now," I tease. "You basically check all my boxes."
Her face scrunches up. "If that's all it takes, you need better boxes, Mason."
"There may be a few others. We'll discuss those later."
"You really want to go out with me? This isn't, like, a pity thing because I feel like a jerk, right?"
"I've wanted to go out with you since you told me that you were stealing the mail, Olive. We don't have to rush," I murmur. "We can take it slow, get to know one another. It doesn't have to be anything more than dinner."
"Okay."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." She grins up at me, her cheeks pink. "I'd like that. Just…do me a favor?"
"Name it."
"Um, if you change your mind, would you let me know?"
"What?"
"If you change your mind, can you let me know? I don't really want to be ghosted again," she says, her gaze drifting from mine.
What the fuck? Who the fuck was stupid enough to ghost her? Whoever he was, he was a fucking idiot.
"I won't change my mind."
"Just promise me."
"I promise," I say softly.
She beams at me in response, relief stamped into every line of her face. Something about that makes me want to kiss her and kill for her at the same damn time. Whoever made her so leery didn't deserve her, and they never will. Fuck that guy.
"What are you doing tonight?" I ask.
"This." She motions at the store around her. "I promised to help out here tonight."
"Tomorrow?"
"I work tomorrow, but I'm free tomorrow night."
"Perfect." I grin at her. "Then you're all mine tomorrow night."
She blushes again, glancing at the floor.
"You need help with…whatever the fuck you're doing in here?"
"You want to help?"
"Why not?" I shrug. "Beats going home to be bullied by my bird."
I'm going to dream about her sweet smile for the rest of my life, I'm sure of it.