Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Sally
I’m not sure what emotion I feel when seeing Oliver play catch with a little kid. The sun is starting to set, and the smell of freshly cut grass fills the air.
Oliver cocks his arm back and sails the football across the dimming yellow-orange sky right into Marcus’s arms.
His laughter after every catch is contagious because I can’t help but smile every time they exchange the ball.
Reminds me of the backyard nights back home. The boys and Ella would play some sort of interactive game while the rest of the family watched.
Leon would always reluctantly play along because he loved spending time with Richie and Miggy. There were even times Lennon, our uncle, would stop by just to annoy Mama and see all his nieces and nephews.
“Oliver, did you play football in school?” Marc asks.
He shrugs at his little brother’s question. This is such a weird reality we’ve found ourselves in. Oliver was an only child, just like me, and then one day, I found my family, and Oliver now has a blood-related brother.
It’s almost scary how similar they look. Same eyes and nose. Different colored hair, though. Marc has dirty-blond hair compared to Oliver’s chestnut locks.
“I was more into skateboarding and skipping class than football in school.”
“Oliver, don’t give your brother any ideas.” Oliver’s mom, Krista, walks over to me, taking a seat in the porch lounge chair on my right. “Have I told you how happy I am that Oliver found himself a girlfriend, especially one as pretty as you?”
“You’ve mentioned it once or twice,” I say through a forced smile.
This is the woman who left Oliver to fend for himself for ten years. I still remember the nights Oliver talked about her like he didn’t want to admit how much he missed her.
The sound of his sobs is still fresh in my mind.
I glance over at Oliver, now showing Marc some pictures on his phone.
Unease burns up my throat like acid. Oliver told me that if I felt uncomfortable at any point, he would take me back. I don’t like being here. It makes me feel like I’m in the lion’s den, waiting to be attacked. I want to run away.
I’ve fought that urge at least three times already. The knowledge that Oliver would drop everything, even spending time with his little brother, causes my head to spin.
Each time my emotions almost bubbled over the surface, Oliver would place his hand on my thigh, and the simmering would stop.
Oliver is a good person and son, and his parents don’t deserve him. I don’t deserve him either. Not with the way I will hurt him.
I’m pretty much set on selling the house. Talking to Richie today pretty much confirmed it.
We’d have to pack up anything that looks too personal for showings, and we’d have to deep clean the house.
I know Oliver would forgive me for hurting him again. He’s just like Miguel. Two amazing guys that are too good for this world.
They want to forgive the people who have wronged them. What does that say about me? I can’t even forgive my parents, even though they are dead. It’s not like I can get some satisfaction from confronting them anymore.
Oliver is a good person.
“Babe.” My spine jumps at his voice.
“What?” I answer with flushed cheeks as my eyes focus again, and he’s leaning down so we are at eye level with each other.
Then, it hits me again like a burst of heat. I’m pretending to be his girlfriend because that’s what his mom thinks I am. My stomach turns at the thought.
Oliver’s heated expression turns worried.
“Princess?” God, why does he have to keep calling me that? Every time I hear it, my core fills with arousal. “Mom, is the guest room ready?”
“Yes, sweetie, it is.”
“Okay, I’m gonna take Sally in for the night. She’s not feeling well.”
He grabs my hand before I can fight back and pulls me through the house and toward the guest room.
All my fight disappears as he closes the door to the room, and we are alone.
I drag my eyes over every part of the room. The bland beige walls, placeholder photo frames, and a full-size bed.
Once I rake over the room, I feel the dread of my eyes landing on Oliver. His build is only a few inches taller than me, but every time he looks at me with heat, I feel like he’s towering over me.
Oliver wipes his hand through his disheveled hair. Our eyes lock, and his flash with some sort of intensity that is too much for me to bear, so I turn away.
“Sorry about this. I know you haven’t felt well since being here.”
This catches my full attention. He knew I wanted to leave this whole time.
“I wasn’t going to ruin a chance for you to spend time with your mom and brother.”
“We can leave now if you want to,” he says with sincerity.
I can’t take away any of his time with them. That includes tomorrow morning.
“I’ll be okay,” I reassure. “I’m just tired and need to sleep.”
His gaze passes over my features before giving me a smile. “Thank you, Sally. I’ll sleep on the floor.”
I shake my head. “That wouldn’t be fair. I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“No,” he denies firmly. “I brought you here, so there is no way I’m letting you do that.”
Oliver, why can’t you be just a little bit of an asshole? I really need you to help trick my brain into being okay with never looking back.
I run my fingers through my fading pink hair. “Fine, we’ll share the bed. Plus, we can’t have your mom walk in and see you sleeping on the floor.”
Oliver’s brow spikes up in surprise. “Are you sure?” He sounds a little bit too enthusiastic but also cautious.
Nerves knot my stomach. I’ve never slept in the same bed as someone who doesn’t know about me.
I nod, and heat flares in his eyes.
Heat climbs up my neck. “I’ll need some clothes since I didn’t really pack anything for sleeping.”
The same pink tint finds its way onto Oliver’s cheeks. Then, in a fluid motion, he pulls his shirt over his head and thrusts the shirt into my arms.
“I’ll give you room to change.” He marches out of the room.
Looks like I’m sleeping in my tuck. I hate sleeping in my tuck.
I look at his shirt and shamelessly lift it to my nose and inhale. Fresh water and the beach fill me with too many memories.
The past few weeks haven’t been kind in terms of sleep. I miss the smell of cinnamon apples. I thought it was just because I was in the Gordons’ house, but I can’t sleep here in Lansing either.
Ma always complains that it shouldn’t smell like Christmas in July, but then she’ll come home with a box of candles because it’s Mama’s favorite scent.
I blink my eyes open, taking in the whole room. The light is off, and the only light coming into the room is from the hallway.
I glide my hand over the soft bed sheet to find my phone.
The screen light burns my eyes as they adjust to the sudden brightness. Several texts come into view from my siblings.
Ella
I know you said you were okay, but I’m still worried.
Leon
When are you getting back?
Mimi
You better tell me how romantic this outing of yours was because my love life only exists within books.
The next text is just from Ella in our own text thread.
Ella
I think Leon is over his crush.
Me
What makes you say that?
Ella
He told me I deserve to be happy.
Me
I told you his crush would fade.
Ella likes to pretend she’s tough as nails on the outside when it comes to strangers, but she loves her family deeper than people might realize.
As I close my screen. The bed stirs slightly. Remembrance pools in my head at the fact that I’m in bed with Oliver in his mother’s house.
The thought escaped me all throughout the night. I felt so warm and peaceful. I want to wrap myself up in this bed. When I inhale, Oliver’s beach scent rolls into my nostrils, sparking my insides to life.
It’s different from back home, but it still feels safer than back in Alliance.
The Gordons’ house smells like nothing. The halls feel cold and dead.
The body next to me shifts the bed with his movement as one of his arms lands over my body. Before I can react, the arm tightens around my waist, taking hold of my body and pulling me into him.
I would normally recoil at the sudden touch, but our bodies meld together in a weird magnetic pull. I don’t miss the growing hardness that presses against the small of my back.
I don’t think I’ve been with a guy this big in a while, and I haven’t even seen the damn thing. And I never will because we can’t actually be anything real.
“Oliver,” I try, but nothing happens. “Oliver, wake up.”
He stirs a bit but only lets out a quiet groan, and then his breath evens out again.
I could easily yell right now, but I’ve never been a loud person, and I don’t want his mom to think something is wrong and barge in here.
And oh-so selfishly, I’m also whispering it because I don’t want him to wake up, and I want to stay like this longer.
Arousal pools in my stomach, and an unpleasant reminder comes. The pressure in my pants grows as I struggle to choke it down.
Pins and needles prickle my skin, running up and down, ruining whatever peace I’m trying to create.
I rip myself from Oliver’s hold and fall out of bed, landing on my ass.
God fucking dammit!
The bed continues to stir. “Sally?”
Oliver’s head lifts from his pillow. His brown hair pulls in every direction, and his sea-green eyes land on me.
“Why are you on the floor?”
I get up quickly, making sure to fist the hem of his shirt so it doesn’t reveal too much. Even if my tuck game is immaculate, it doesn't stop the pain that comes when turned on.
Oliver sits up with his shoulders set and jaw stiff, but his jawline looks like it could cut anything to shreds.
“Sal, is something wrong.” He sounds defeated as his gaze rakes over me, and his hands clench the blanket, still shielding his body from me.
My nervousness starts to fire off, setting my stomach in a spiral.
“Can we go back to Alliance?”
I walk into the kitchen, expecting to see a majority of the kitchen packed up, but I’m welcomed by Mimi sitting on the floor with papers sprawled across the hardwood flooring.
My sister doesn’t even notice my approach as she grabs two pieces of paper on opposite sides of the mess and stares at them intensely.
I haven’t seen Ella or Leon yet this morning.
I’ve been focused on packing up my old room with any sort of hope more letters would show up.
Maybe I should give up. I found two of them and had a breakdown both times. It might be better to bury this place and move on for my peace of mind.
I frown as images of Oliver flash in my head. Burying Alliance means burying him, and that thought feels like glass circulating through my veins.
What’s worse is now that’s not the only thing that comes to mind. I also envision the clear sky above the pier and the passionate artists honing their craft at the market. I might miss those parts of this town also.
I’ll miss the beach, too, even though being in the water causes more anxiety than I like to handle.
“Mimi, what are you doing?” I look down at her again.
Without breaking her gaze on the papers, she answers, “I didn’t like the way I was handling parts of my manuscript.”
“So, you messed up the order?” I cock a brow.
“No.” She lets out a laugh like what I said was stupid. “I have everything in a specific place so I can look at each part of the story and really visualize what I’m writing.”
A question I shouldn’t ask pops into my head. “Do you plan on writing sex into your stories?”
Mimi’s head snaps toward me with her cheeks now flush. “Probably,” she whispers half-heartedly.
I bite the inside of my cheek. “I mean, if you need info, I know our sex education wasn’t great, but you have some pretty sexually active sisters.” I’m mostly thinking of myself and Lotte.
“What?!” she exclaims. Her face turns completely red. “I’ve been doing research.”
I tilt my head. “Research?”
“I’m not talking about this with you anymore.” She turns her back to me, but I can see the red creeping up her neck.
“I’m just joking with you, sis.” I get up, walking over to the kitchen boxes. “Don’t forget, I’m always here to read anything you write.”
“You don’t even like reading,” she huffs.
“True, but I’ll read it for you. I might not be a reader, but I still have too many opinions.”
I notice her quick glance toward me. “You’d read it?”
“I’d read the shit out of it.”
“I forgive you.” We smile at each other before she turns back to her pages, placing one down and picking up another.
I turn toward the sink, looking into one of the boxes filled with plates and bowls. We’ll probably just sell all of this along with any other belongings. Everything in this house is mine, so I can destroy or sell whatever I want.
I go to turn the faucet on, but nothing comes out. I furrow my brows. The water should be on. I decided to use the money I got from my inheritance to pay for the utilities we’d need while here.
I sink down to the floor, opening up the bottom cabinet. My eyes survey the compartment. Nothing seems out of the ordinary, but fear nips the back of my neck.
“You wouldn’t happen to know how to fix a faucet, would you?” I ask into the universe.
“I happen to know a thing or two.” The hairs on the back of my neck stick up as a familiar voice sings in my ear—the same voice I’ve been avoiding since this weekend when we went on a little overnight adventure.
I stand, turning toward the living room and praying I’m just wrong and missing him.
But nope, his sea-green eyes are staring me down.
Oliver stands before me in just a white tank top—the kind you can just rip off with a flick of the wrist—a red gym shorts, and a backwards baseball cap.
My eyes drop ever so slightly, and my mind goes blank, noticing the loose fabric that clings to his waist.
A cough snaps my mind out of its haze, and I look up, expecting the sound to have come from Oliver, but my eyes look past him, landing on a wide-eyed Ella. Leon and Jaxon stifle a laugh.
Accepting my fate, I expect to find a just-as-amused Oliver, but I’m met with an intense stare as his eyes darken like storm clouds over water.
He opens his mouth to speak, but I’m quicker.
“Oh, Jaxon, are you good with hardware?” I ask.
Jaxon spares a glance at my childhood best friend.
Wait, no, he’s not my best friend anymore. Friends don’t treat each other like how I’m treating him.
“Actually, Oliver is the one that’s good at that stuff,” Jaxon answers as Oliver clenches his jaw.
Everyone is staring at me with a ‘what the fuck’ look, but I steel myself.
“Oh, that’s cool.” I nervously laugh. “Thank you, Ollie.”
I realize my mistake the minute Oliver’s gaze turns molten. I need to leave.
“I should head out. I've got errands to run. Thank you so much, boys. I appreciate it!” With that, I bolt out the door, not missing the way Oliver’s storming eyes follow my escape.