Chapter Twenty-Three
“I think I’m in love with your mum.”
Theo turned to see Olivia nodding as if she was confirming the statement to herself.
They were walking side by side down the dimly lit street after a post-dinner cup of tea and a generous dessert.
Theo had had to park a little way down the street as parking was always a nightmare out front of his parent’s town house.
Sending him a kilowatt smile, she wound her arm through his, swinging slightly as the bounce in her step resumed its normal bob.
“I’m serious. Did you see those cabinets? The anchor brooch on her jumper?”
Theo was more than aware of his parent’s tendency to match their outfits.
His mother had decided today was sailor day and had somehow also convinced his usually stern father to wear a matching handkerchief and shirt combo.
They were a joyful couple, and he had grown up feeling incredibly loved and slightly embarrassed of their complementary dressing habits.
“And did you hear what he called her? His treasure,” Olivia gushed, curling her painted nails around his forearm and squeezing firmly.
To Theo, who was so used to his parents’ antics, it was strange hearing someone enthusiastically give opinions about them.
All their small nicknames, laughter, terrible jokes and complaining about everything under the sun before uttering ‘I shouldn’t be complaining’ and listing everything they were grateful for in life, had been the soundtrack of his childhood.
“If a man ever called me his treasure, I think my ovaries would explode.”
Theo laughed at her blunt comment, slinging an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his side. The soft cashmere of his jumper brushed against her cheek, her face blossoming red in the twilight.
Theo opened the car door for her before moving around the front and sliding into the driver’s seat.
Turning the heat on, he directed the car fans towards Olivia, the warm air blasting over her.
He noted how her body visibly slumped into the leather seat with a shiver of satisfaction as her body defrosted.
“My parents loved you. I swear my mum is expecting me to bring you to every family meal.”
“Oh, well, if they make that lemon tart again, how could I refuse?”
Theo flicked the indicator on before glancing at her out of the corner of his eyes.
God, she was so fucking beautiful. She had fully reclined back into his car seat, eyes closed, hair splayed wildly across the headrest and curling slightly around her shoulders due to the misty rain that had begun to fall on the walk back to the car.
She was a sight to see. And a wonderful one at that.
Gulping, Theo knew he was doomed. His mother was right.
Olivia wasn’t just a friend. He didn’t want to be her friend.
Not when every time she breathed the same air, shared the same space and existed on earth at the same time, he couldn’t seem to think coherent thoughts.
His chest began to ache again, and he reached up, splaying a hand over his hammering heart as the headlights beamed through the windscreen, illuminating her in threads of gold as they passed car after car on the suburban road.
No, he most definitely did not want her as just a friend.
“You offered to do the dishes; that makes you officially welcome anytime.” He chuckled finally, squeezing down the fog of lust covering his eyes and forcing himself to remain calm.
“I think I’m dessert drunk.” She spoke softly, placing a hand on her stomach and looking at him with a grin.
Theo felt the corners of his lips tilt upwards as he gazed out into the dark street ahead.
He loved her strange sayings and weird facts.
She researched a lot for work, and you could tell.
By now, he had her Netflix recommendations memorised, and the ‘continue watching’ section, he had taken note, had been filled with nature documentaries and low-budget romance films.
Her date with Tommy had been mediocre, and Theo was happy about it. He was slowly filtering out the dates until it was just him who was left. He had already planned their next non-date. Except now they felt less like pretending and more like non-fiction.
Olivia hummed, turning her body towards him, her stocking-clad knee bumping the top of his thigh. “Do you wanna know what I think?”
“All the time.”
“I think they are like me. They love love.” Olivia grinned at him, the small purse of her lips making that thud return, and the feel of her knee resting against him increased it tenfold.
The caress of her body, connecting to his in the seemingly most innocent ways, made his stomach tighten and pants zip feel more confining than before.
He coughed, reaching down and skimming her leg with the curve of this thumb before changing gears.
He was a poor sucker and was not ashamed to take every opportunity to accidentally touch her. Be near her. Listen to her.
“When I write,” she continued, eyes focused on where his fingers had brushed the side of her knee, “I try to think of people, meetings and love stories like theirs. Matching outfits, teasing each other about the smallest things like coffee coasters, and silently swapping newspaper sections. The kind of love that’s vibrant and noticeable but not yelled.
Love that can be seen through the small things.
The unconscious way their bodies move together in synchronicity.
When she moves, he moves. They adjust. Your parents…
they just fit. I love that. I love that kind of love.
As sickening as it may be for you – which I’m sure seeing them kiss so openly would’ve been mortifying when you were younger – it’s real.
What I can’t seem to believe is that they’re real.
And tangible examples of love. Even more so, you grew up with that example.
It’s all rather beautiful.” Olivia glanced out the window at the moving cityscape.
Theo had never thought of his parents’ relationship that way before.
Sure, they used to dance in the kitchen, arms wrapped around each other, so freely he would feel nauseous as a teen whenever he saw it.
He now was grateful, though. Grateful that his father, no matter how stern, had been an example of chivalry, respect and honour.
His mother was affectionate and loyal. Almost to a fault.
Hearing how Olivia viewed his parents’ thirty-year marriage was eye-opening; it was always a delight to see through Olivia’s lens.
He found her mind fascinating. And that view, the view he had been given access to through her ocean eyes, he couldn’t help but agree with.
It was beautiful. Their dynamic was certainly something to marvel at.
It was something he aspired to have eventually.
He changed gears again before his hand settled above her knee.
When she didn’t pull away, he curled his fingers around the inside of her leg and stroked the soft flesh gently.
“I’m definitely aware of how fortunate I was to grow up with such loving parents.
That’s something I’d never take for granted. ”
“Good. If you did, I might just have to steal them. What do I have to do to have parents like yours?” she joked, glancing up and staring directly into his eyes.
Marry me.
The thought crashed into Theo’s head like a freight train.
Sudden and dizzying enough to rattle his bones down to his core.
With a gulp, he straightened up, removing his hand from her leg, noticing her small frown at the movement.
But he didn’t replace his hand. Instead, he tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
The thought of Olivia walking down an aisle in a white dress made his stomach with something other than nausea.
Something that spread warmth through his veins and relaxed his mind into a state of calm, while tugging hard for attention at the muscle in his chest. It left him just as breathless as when she had bitten her lip and teased him about putting cranberry sauce on his Yorkshire pudding and eating it like a fruit pie, smirking at him, eyes sparkling across his parents’ dinner table mere hours ago.
How beautiful she had been, all smart-lipped and blushing.
He’d had to remind himself where he was.
If he hadn’t, they would have been in a very different situation right then – one where he tasted cranberry sauce straight from her lips instead of from a fine china dining set.
The fluttering came back full throttle, and he once again squashed the thought of getting used to having her at family dinners…
before he got caught up thinking about what forever would look like with her.
Looking over at her comfortably cruising beside him in his car, he let himself indulge in the fantasy of forever with her for a moment.
For them to have what his parents have – in her words, a dynamic love that just fits.
He let himself imagine what it would be like to wake up every morning with her beside him, tucked against his chest and curled in his arms. If he ever got the privilege of holding her there, one thing was for certain: he didn’t think he’d ever have the strength to let her go.
“You okay?” she asked, snapping him out of his pressing thoughts. He had been staring for far too long. Thank God they were at a red light.
“Yeah.” Theo cleared the lump that had settled in his throat. The idea of forever with her made more sense than he should admit. “I’m good.” He shook himself out of the dream.
Thinking of forever with her was silly, wasn’t it? Certainly not something that was possible after only knowing her for four short weeks.
He needed to reel himself in and get back in line.
He was doing her a favour. She was trying to write a bestseller, and he would be damned if he wasn’t going to give her the best leading man she had ever written.
That’s all.
That was the agreement.
Not occupying his mind with thoughts of her linking her arm with his and drinking fancy champagne from flutes or drowning out the sounds of their families cheering as their lips covered one another’s after responding to the priest with, “I do.”
Theo pulled up on her street and put the car in park. Forever definitely was not part of the agreement.
“Thanks for today. It was fun,” Olivia said, too casually for his liking.
The night, which to Theo, had begun feeling all too real, had ended far too quickly. If he had it his way, he wouldn’t just say a simple ‘goodbye’ and drive back to his apartment. The very one that now felt cold and empty in contrast to what he could imagine to be her eclectic and warm abode.
Maybe I should get a rug, Theo thought. Or a lamp.
Maybe even a picture. A piece of art. Something to liven up the dull interior of his home and heart.
If he had it his way, Theo would not hesitate to reach across the centre console, tug her closer by her cardigan, slip a hand below the freckle stamped on the bottom left of her jaw, drag her onto his awaiting lap and kiss her senseless.
Until both their lungs burned and fingers trembled with desperation for more.
Until she let out that sensual sigh he had heard when she took her first bite of dessert that evening.
The same bloody sigh he had been replaying in his head ever since.
“Are we still on for Sunday?” Olivia asked shyly, one hand opening the shiny black door.
With a nod, Theo got out of the car. They silently walked across the small pavement to her apartment building.
Olivia leaned over, plastered a surprising but soft kiss along the scruff of his cheek, and said goodnight before disappearing into the small building.
Back at his car, the leather seats suddenly feeling colder than before, he turned the key and listened to the engine roar to life. He waited until the front door of her apartment was firmly closed, and his phone had dinged with the text.
Go home, you weirdo :)
Theo shook his head, letting a smile flicker across his face before returning to the street and heading west.
Sunday.
Oh, he couldn’t wait until then.