Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
OLIVER
Iwatch the team of men and women walking along my roof from the driver’s seat of my car.
I’d had high hopes for getting chores done today, but the noise was a lot more distracting than I thought it would be.
Tapping a finger on my gear shift, I put the car in reverse and wave a goodbye at them.
Nils is home, and when I asked if he wanted company, his reply had been a succinct always.
It felt like he’d reached through the phone and hugged me.
So, half my kitchen packed up in the trunk, I drive the five minutes over to his place, harmonizing with Jimmy Buffett as I go.
Nils meets me out front as I drive up, walking down the front steps with a smile, dark strands of hair caught in the wind and dancing around his face. There’s a question in his eyes as I exit the car, and he reaches for the rear handle, knowing I brought stuff.
“Yeah, they’re still working,” I reply. “It doesn’t sound like they’ll be getting it done this week, but we’ll see.
I have a feeling they provided me with the worst possible outcome, and then if they finish sooner, it’s a nice surprise.
Although my ghosts might derail the proceedings, so who knows. ”
Nils laughs, brushing a thumb behind my ear as he cups the back of my neck and moves me closer to kiss my temple.
It’s a little concerning how much I like this.
If someone had asked me what type of partner Nils Lee might be in a relationship, I don’t think I would have answered affectionate.
But he is, even when that doesn’t always present in the usual way.
He keeps his hands to himself at work and isn’t kissing me when we go into town.
But every inch of his expression is soft when he looks at me now, no matter if we’re in public or not.
Mouth, eyes, brows, all of it screams affection.
He’s always angled toward me, body language open, unconsciously letting me know he’s listening.
It seems like a miracle that nobody else has noticed and commented.
If I saw Nils looking at anyone else like that, I’d have had questions for sure.
He lifts the bags as we walk inside, peeking at what I brought. I try to be creative with what I make, hoping to impress him with my ability to keep him fed. Unfortunately, I fear that a great deal of my prowess is lost on him. He seems to be just as happy with a sandwich as he is with caviar.
“Did you know that Becca Wright is working with her brothers now? I didn’t realize she was part of the crew, but she’s up on my roof with the rest of them right now.
” Nils makes a tiny grunting noise that I take to be no, I did not know that.
“Anyway, hopefully everything goes okay and nobody falls off. The weather seems like it’s going to be getting better.
No more snowstorms. Although if I’m being honest, I’m a little disappointed about that. I enjoyed the last one.”
Nils, helpfully unpacking groceries, smiles a me too my way. I glance at the time.
“I don’t want to get in your way. I know you’ve probably got things to do today.
It’ll take me a couple hours to make dinner, though, and also, I thought I’d make some dessert, too.
I’ve been craving German chocolate cake, and there is a recipe I’ve been dying to try.
Nothing I made up, so you don’t have to worry about being my guinea pig. ”
Nils shrugs, never one to turn down being a food tester.
Humming “Desperation Samba” under my breath, I sort the ingredients and put a few away in the refrigerator for later.
I assume Nils left the kitchen, off to do whatever tasks I interrupted, until a hand touches my back and I jump.
The problem with constantly making my own noise is I cover up the noise of others. It’s easy to sneak up on me.
“Sorry. I thought you’d gone. Am I in the way?”
Nils puts his other hand on my side, pulling me around by my hips so we’re facing one another. Shaking his head, he kisses my forehead in a way that feels distinctly like no you’re not in the way, you silly man.
“You should stay here,” he offers before dropping his eyes to his hands and running them up and down my sides.
“Oh…I, well, yeah, I had thought I would stay through dinner and maybe a little after.” I trail off, trying to think back to our quick text conversation.
I suppose I hadn’t fully outlined a timeframe, but then, I don’t usually.
Most of the time, when I come over, I’m just…
over until it’s time to go home. I clear my throat.
“But you tell me. I can leave whenever you want. I don’t want to annoy you or get in the way, like I said. I’m sorry, I thought—”
“Oli,” he interrupts, giving my hips a little shake. “The night.”
“Stay the night?” I repeat, somehow managing to sound twice as incredulous as I feel. Nils’ eyebrows rise, and I laugh. “Sorry. Stay the night? Here? With you?”
His mouth pinches together like he wants to laugh.
Honestly, I wouldn’t blame him if he did.
I don’t know why I’m surprised by the offer, but truthfully, I am.
I like the slow and steady pace Nils and I have set in our relationship.
We aren’t rushing toward milestones so much as meandering along the path, holding hands and enjoying the journey.
It feels right for us, and not only because Nils said he was new to this.
I’ve done quick and dirty, gone to clubs that offer private back rooms and no surveillance.
I’ve had relationships that lasted six months and ones that lasted two days.
I have not, though, had a relationship with a friend.
Nor, I’m realizing now, have I been in one with a person I like quite as much as I like Nils.
I wouldn’t go so far as to say I fell in love with him at first sight, but there was something.
He was a lightbulb, and I was the moth flying just close enough to feel the heat.
I found myself not just looking at him but for him—my eyes seeking him out when I had no business watching him.
I wanted to talk to him, and when he started coming around to help me with home repairs, I’d been through the roof with joy.
One-on-one time with Nils off the boat? Sign me up.
I haven’t been missing anything in our relationship because I’m so happy with what I already have. I won’t say no to more, but I also wasn’t impatient for it. I know all too well how it feels to be unsteady in a partnership, and I didn’t want to be the cause of that for Nils.
“Yes,” he replies simply, answering all the questions in one go. We’re still facing one another, his broad hands resting on my waist.
“I’d love to. Obviously,” I add, in case he’s ever questioning my desire to do this, or really anything at all, with him.
He smiles. “But I didn’t bring any clothes, so once I get the food in the oven, maybe I can go back and pack a bag.
I can also grab more food because I definitely keep more staples than you do, and if I’m going to be cooking more than one meal, I’ll probably need other things. ”
Later, it is revealed to me that in his preparation for me staying one single night, Nils cleaned out half of his dresser drawers and put extra hangers for me in the closet.
And just in case this wasn’t enough to kill me, there is a purple toothbrush sitting propped in the cup on his bathroom counter, right alongside the blue one.
Standing in the master bedroom as Nils silently shows me all the places he made room for me, duffle bag slung over my shoulder, I think about his softly spoken you should stay here.
A night spent together here and there doesn’t require any of this.
In fact, not once has anyone given me so much room in their life with so little effort.
I didn’t even ask for it. I wouldn’t have asked for it, not yet. Probably not for a long, long time.
And yet, here it is—half of the dresser, one side of the bed, and a shirt Nils placed on the end of the mattress like a silent request to wear his and not my own to sleep in.
I drop my bag on the floor, feeling a little bit like I might vomit.
It’s possible I’ve just agreed to move in, and even more possible that I won’t want to leave if it turns out I’m supposed to.
I reach down and touch my fingertips to the shirt.
Nils doesn’t seem to own any clothing with a logo on it, so it’s just a plain navy-blue tee, worn thin enough in a few places that the fabric is almost white.
The collar looks stretched, and I wonder if this is the shirt he usually sleeps in.
This is possibly the Nils version of peeing on my leg and staking a claim.
“Yes,” he says, making me jump. Flushing, I look over at him. I have no idea what it was I was just saying out loud. Think before you speak, my father’s voice reminds me.
“Sorry, I was just…talking to myself,” I tell Nils, who only tilts his head to the side and regards me with calm eyes.
“Uhm, this is really nice. And a lot. You didn’t have to go through this much trouble—or any trouble at all.
I was just going to grab stuff from my bag. I don’t need a whole three drawers.”
I gesture toward the dresser as Nils approaches, once more putting his hands on my waist. This time, he uses the grip to tug me gently forward until my chest is pressed against his, and we’re close enough that I could count his eyelashes.
His hair is a bit of a mess today, and I wonder if he’d had a hat on earlier before I arrived.
Reaching up, I tuck a few strands behind his ear.
“You aren’t any trouble.”
“Mm-hm.” I hum, biting my lip. “This is, though. Like, where did all your stuff go?”