Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Oliver lifted his head from the pillow, propping himself up on his elbow when Erin sat on the edge of the mattress to put her shoes on.
“Sorry,” she said softly. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”
He waved away her apology. “Wanted to kiss you goodbye anyway. What time do you get off?”
“My shift is over at five, so I’ll be here for dinner.”
He nodded. “Okay. Gavin and I will hit the store later on and figure out something to make.”
She leaned toward him and gave him a quick kiss. “You all are spoiling me. Grocery shopping, cooking, cleaning. Keep this up and I’ll never let you leave.”
Oliver winked at her. “That’s sort of the point.”
Erin shook her head. “You’re incorrigible.”
She had confided in him last night, after Gavin went to bed, that he’d shown her his scars.
She’d cried quietly, shaken by the memory, angry at Gavin’s mother and devastated to learn that he’d suffered so much pain as a child.
She’d known his childhood had been rough, but hearing it and seeing the proof were two different things. Oliver knew that from experience.
Oliver had consoled her, holding her close for a long time.
Once she’d pulled herself together, she’d asked him to make love to her.
Of course, in the end, she’d made love to him, pushing him to his back on the couch and climbing on top.
Typically, he took the lead in the bedroom, but he’d gotten a sense that she wanted to call the shots, taking what she needed to wipe away the sad feelings.
Oliver sat up and reached out, pulling her to him for a longer kiss, pressing her lips open and tasting the toothpaste on her breath.
After they’d come last night, they had dragged themselves to bed, both of them still feeling a bit raw. He’d enveloped her in his arms and she’d fallen asleep quickly. It had taken Oliver a lot longer, something weighing heavy on his mind.
When he broke the kiss, he whispered, “He watched us last night.”
Erin’s silence confirmed his suspicions.
“You knew that, didn’t you?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I knew he was there. I…God… What does it say about me that knowing he was watching us totally turned me on?”
“It says you’re perfect for me,” he joked.
Erin punched his shoulder playfully. “Kinky bastard.”
Oliver laughed for a moment but sobered up quickly. “You want it, don’t you? The three of us. You’re falling for him.”
She didn’t answer right away. She didn’t need to.
“Erin,” he prodded.
“I love you, Ollie.” There was no mistaking the panic—and maybe guilt—in her tone.
He gave her a grin. Sometimes he forgot that most of the world didn’t grow up like he did. “Your feelings for Gavin don’t negate how you feel about me.” He pointed at himself. “Three parents…wildly in love with each other, remember? You can love me and Gavin. I think you already do.”
“He’s easy to love,” she admitted. “You both are. But it doesn’t matter how I feel or what we want. He doesn’t want…me.”
“Sweet girl,” he said softly.
She shook her head. “No. You and I both know it wasn’t me he was looking at last night. It was you.”
Oliver heard the note of dejection in her voice. Pulling her close, he hugged her tightly, kissing her once more as he cupped her cheeks, then lowering his hands to touch her breasts, tempted to wipe the bad feelings away the same way he had last night…with sex.
It probably wasn’t the most mature thing to do, but morning wood was a fact of life.
She groaned when he pinched her nipples through her shirt and bra, then broke off the kiss. “Dammit, Ollie, you’re making me horny. And I can’t be horny. I have to go right now or I’m going to be late.”
He chuckled and released her.
Reluctantly.
“Fine. Rain check for later though.”
She stood up, bending over for one last quick kiss. “Damn right.”
He listened as she walked down the hall, and a few minutes later, he heard the apartment door close behind her.
He dropped back onto the bed, debating whether or not to treat himself to another hour of sleep or if he should just go ahead and get up.
Saturday was typically his “get shit done” day, when he did the laundry, shopping, and housecleaning.
He preferred it that way because that left his Sundays free for just generally being lazy and fucking around.
“Screw it,” he murmured. He was already awake, so he decided to get up.
Rising, he dressed and then grabbed the full laundry basket.
He’d just put a load in the washer when he heard Gavin coming out of his room.
“Morning,” Gavin said, clearing the sleep out of his throat. “You’re up early.”
Oliver nodded. “Yeah. Got up with Erin.”
“She gone already?” Gavin asked, looking around.
“Yep. Won’t be back until five, so I told her we’d fix dinner.”
“Um. Yeah. That’s cool.”
Oliver wasn’t sure what to make of the look on his friend’s face, trying to decide if Gavin was uncomfortable about Erin seeing the scars or if he was bothered by what he’d seen them doing on the couch.
“Breakfast?” Gavin asked.
“Sure.” The two of them ventured to the kitchen. Oliver grabbed a frying pan while Gavin pulled some bacon and eggs from the refrigerator. After so many years of living together, they worked together quietly and efficiently, whipping up a big breakfast.
“So, I’ve been thinking…” Gavin started, his gaze looking everywhere but at him.
They never had a problem looking each other in the eye, which meant Oliver knew whatever his foster brother said next was going to piss him off. “Oh yeah?”
“I’m not sure this living situation is working out. Thought it might be a good idea if I head back home, stay with Sean, Chad, and Lauren until the pub and apartment are rebuilt. Give you and Erin a chance to shack up together properly. Good practice for your future marriage.”
“No.”
Gavin frowned, confused by his short, one-word response. “What?”
“You’re not leaving.”
Gavin’s confusion quickly turned to annoyance. “Don’t remember asking for permission, your highness.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m not about to let you revert to type.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Things get tough, someone gets too close, you look for the closest escape. Took years before you stopped trying to run from me. Now you’re doing the same to Erin.”
Gavin wanted to argue the point—Oliver could see it in the way his best friend’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t. That was when he knew his foster brother couldn’t argue—because Oliver was right.
“How many people have you let in, Gavin? In your entire life, who do you feel safe enough to truly be yourself with?”
Gavin looked away, and it was obvious he didn’t want to answer.
“Me,” Oliver said, giving him the easy answer first.
Gavin nodded, still refusing to look in his direction, looking instead out the window. “You.”
“And our folks…to some extent. Though I think you still hold back with them too. Never calling them mom or dad, still using their real names, refusing to let them see your scars.”
Gavin shrugged but didn’t deny Oliver’s assertions.
“Maybe Paddy,” Oliver said after a minute more. “Not completely, but you’ve cracked the door, right?”
Gavin nodded, finally facing Oliver again. “A little. Yeah.”
“Who else?” Oliver asked, perfectly aware that there was just one more name on the list, and it was a big one.
Gavin picked up a slice of toast, tearing the crust off of it.
“Say it,” Oliver prodded.
When Gavin continued to stare at him in silence, shredding his toast to crumbs, Oliver decided it was time to put all his cards on the table. “Erin told me you showed her your scars last night.”
Gavin nodded. “Yeah. I did.”
“Why?”
Gavin closed his eyes, and that was when Oliver noticed the dark circles under them. Even though he’d just woken up, Gavin was the poster child for exhaustion. Obviously, he hadn’t slept any better than Oliver.
“What do you mean, why?” Gavin asked.
Oliver held his gaze. “You’ve never shown anyone but me. You always wear a shirt with your lovers, and you haven’t even let our parents see them. Why her?”
Gavin blew out a long breath. “I don’t know why.”
Oliver made a buzzer sound. “Errrrr. Nope. Not accepting the cop-out answer. If you really don’t know why, then sit there a minute and think about it.”
“You’re a pain in the ass.” Gavin’s words were deadpan, completely lacking any emotion.
Oliver laughed. “I’m the product of not one but two psychologist parents. You know as well as I do, we were raised on introspection and self-analysis. Mom and Dad never let either of us get away with nonresponses.”
Gavin chuckled. “Jesus. You’re not kidding.”
“And you do know why you showed Erin, so just say it,” Oliver said, putting their conversation back on track.
“I showed her because I wanted her to know…” Gavin paused, considering each word. “To know me better. She thought my mom was dead.”
Oliver nodded. “I know. You never corrected that.”
“Neither did you,” Gavin pointed out.
“Wasn’t my story to share. Isn’t that sort of the point of trust? Respecting the other person’s privacy?”
Gavin took a bite of bacon. “It is.”
“Why do you want Erin to know you better? The two of you are already good friends.”
Gavin fell silent. Oliver could tell by the look on his face he wasn’t going to answer. So he let him off the hook. Again. It was either that, or the two of them would sit in silence for hours on end and they’d never accomplish a damn thing.
“I saw you last night.”
Gavin glanced up, frowning. “Last night?”
“I know you watched me and Erin.”
He had to hand it to Gavin. The guy’s poker face was rock solid. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I should have walked away.”
“Why didn’t you?” Oliver asked.
Once again, Gavin clammed up.
“Gavin,” he pressed.
“Leave it alone, Ollie.”
“No. I’m not backing down. Not letting you walk away from this. From us.”
“Us?” Gavin scoffed. “There is no us. Just you and Erin, with me hiding in the hallway, skulking in the shadows.”