Chapter 19 – Camille #2
“You must’ve liked it. You didn’t say anything to stop me.” She shrugged halfheartedly, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “You always did like the sexual tension of getting felt up in front of my mom. My poor, clueless mom… Is that what turns you on?”
Erich’s burning glare was no match for Olivia’s triumphant grin. I had my answer. She typically won.
“I know you so well, don’t I?” she prodded innocently and laughed, purposely turning toward him and having her back to me. I was hostage to whatever that was. Her finger jabbed into his chest as she continued her verbal assault. “Modest my ass. You haven’t changed at all.”
Erich’s shoulders rose and fell with his breathing as Olivia closed in. He didn’t back down in their staring match, the cold gray of his irises daring her to push him further.
“What are you going to do, hit me?” she asked, crossing her arms. She was now up against him, staring up into his face defiantly.
For a second, I believed he would, with how his fists tightened at his sides.
Instead, he put one hand on her shoulder, swiftly moving her up against the wall and forcing a mocking laugh from her lips as her shoulders thumped against the peeled wallpaper.
He then trudged past us and left the kitchen.
I was alone with Olivia again. From her new place against the wall, her cheeks were flushed as her gaze followed the path Erich took from the room.
“There’s your show. You know where you’re sleeping. Don’t bother me tonight—or at all while you’re here—and I won’t bother you, Country Bumpkin.” She pulled herself from the wall and followed Erich out of the room.
It was only eight at night. I wasn’t too sure if Erich was legitimately tired or seeking an escape from Olivia. After debating whether I’d go talk with him before I turned in, I decided against it and found myself following the hallway to the spare room shown to me moments before.
I closed the door as softly as I could before I stripped out of my clothes and into an old pair of flannel sweats and a ripped Dr. Dre concert T-shirt laid out for me by Mystique.
She said they were Olivia’s. I was not eager to put them on. But it was what I had, so I might as well use it. The pants were a little big, but the shirt was baggy and comfortable, which I was thankful for.
The spare room was small. It was big enough for a single twin-sized bed, a table with a lamp, and a small bookcase with many different titles on it.
There was an open closet space barely big enough to hang a few shirts, but it was filled with shoe boxes and winter jackets. The top shelf had a few photo albums.
I picked a random book from their bookshelf and threw myself onto the bed.
My head wasn’t pounding anymore, but the force with which I threw myself on the pillow caused the pressure in my brain to remind me to take it easy.
Olivia’s room was right next to mine, and I could hear her CD player humming a soft R&B ballad at a comfortable volume.
Erich had to be on the couch like he promised.
Did he ever sleep in this bed? I assumed the room I was in was technically his room when he lived with them after failing at finding his brother.
But it also sounded like he started to sleep with Olivia during the time he was living here as well.
The sheets smelled stale and unused, likely untouched in years.
I got to chapter three of Wuthering Heights before my eyes began to feel heavy. My door was shut, so I had no idea if Olivia was still awake or if she had fallen asleep listening to her CD player. I closed the book, turning the lamp off and getting comfortable under the covers.
Once comfortable, I found it much harder to fall asleep than I thought. I rolled around to stare at the ceiling or window for a good hour before I heard a slow creaking sound from a door in the hallway.
I heard the music get turned down enough to hear talking, but I couldn’t tell what was said. Olivia’s voice was obvious, but if she was talking to someone else, they either weren’t saying anything or speaking so quietly I couldn’t hear.
It was silent for a few minutes before I heard a sharp moan, followed by a male voice shushing. My veins turned to ice as I imagined Erich biting Olivia’s neck, his hands gripping her hips, and hers resting on his chest as they had the reunion they were waiting for when no one was around.
I heard some shuffling through the light music playing in Olivia’s room, then some giggling.
After a few minutes, slowly ticking by as I strained to hear what was going on, even if I knew I’d be hurt, the steady thumping of Olivia’s headboard hitting the wall we shared filled the room, accompanied by muffled moans and gasps.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to hold the pillow over my ears to drown out their extremely obvious encounter, but found myself listening out of curiosity, anyway. It went on for almost half an hour before Olivia’s loud gasp, silence, and then the CD player being turned off.
All I could do was keep my sleepless eyes on the ceiling, willing myself not to cry out of frustration and disgust.