Chapter 15 #3
Octavia had gotten her brother settled before going to her room.
She’d asked me to follow her, so there I stood in her doorway, fighting against the urge to cross the threshold and make myself comfortable on the bed.
I wanted to check the dark corners and sleep with my arms around her for protection.
“I’ll have your next payment deposited tomorrow.” Octavia leaned on the other side of the doorframe. Candles from the hallway whispered willowy shadows across her cheeks. “I’m sorry it’s late.”
“It’s just a day.” I folded my arms over my chest, making fists to avoid reaching for her hands. “And you were very busy.”
She tried to smile but couldn’t manage more than a grimace.
“You did well,” I said. “Back at the house. At the grave.”
“I wanted to leave it all.” Her gaze locked on her feet. “Just abandon the ranch and…go back to running.”
“My kind of running?”
That earned me a small smile. “No, my parents’ kind.”
“And what use would that be?”
Octavia laughed a little. “I don’t know, but maybe it’d be better than this?”
“Fighting for a home of your own?” I asked, not even slightly smiling, because seeing her try to hide wasn’t amusing.
“Losing a home of my own.” Her eyes held the hollow ache of someone hitting their last wall. Tears caught in the corners, never falling but producing a burning red that she had to blink away. Octavia’s jaw flexed when she turned to get rid of the emotion in peace.
“Sorry,” she said once she turned back. The tears were gone. “This isn’t what you’re here…sorry.”
“This is exactly what I’m here for.” I pressed my hand on the doorframe, hoping for a steadiness I didn’t possess. “Octavia, if you’re not okay, then the job becomes getting you there.”
“I’m…not okay.” Her confession was a collapse.
I gathered her into my arms. Octavia buried her face in my neck, breath hot on my skin as she exhaled. The inn was a comforting quiet, our only company the creaking floorboards behind closed doors. We were the loudest thing in the building, our soft clothes rustling as they made contact.
Octavia’s arms wrapped around me, fingers somehow landing at the base of my neck.
Her thumb brushed the hair at my nape, a burning trail that soothed the cold sweat I’d endured since we saw the salt circle break.
Octavia was heavy, her weight transferred to my arms, a show of resolve.
She’d whispered, I’m sorry, not knowing that she was saving me.
Her weight wasn’t a pull but a push to the surface.
She was a reason to keep moving. I refused to have this woman give up the dream she’d been chasing.
Refused to stand by and watch her not obtain the safety she deserved from the moment she took her first gasp of air.
“You won’t lose it,” I whispered.
Octavia pulled back enough so her gaze locked on my mouth. Her brow furrowed in confusion.
“You won’t lose Elmwood,” I said, louder this time.
She didn’t take her eyes off my lips as she nodded.
“It’s going to take longer than we thought,” I confessed, studying the rough texture of the skin on her cheeks.
Octavia held so many parts, an amalgamation of brilliance, heartache, and beauty.
It pained me to think I wouldn’t know half of what went on in her mind.
What’d gone on in the years before we met.
And what would happen to her once we’d said our goodbyes.
The thought of sleeping, dreaming, living without getting to see behind her blackout curtains would be nearly the death of me.
Hope laid in her gaze. And on the taste of her lips after she whispered, “What would happen if I kissed you?”
The correct answer was: you shouldn’t. But I couldn’t feel the ground underneath my feet. Couldn’t hold back the low hum of approval. “I’d kiss you back.”
She leaned, and I met her halfway.
Octavia’s lips were soft, glossy from the homemade lip cream she kept on them. They tasted of peaches and cream. I bit into her.
Her fingers stretched, burying into my hair, massaging circles into my scalp.
I urged her a step back, pinning her against the doorframe with my hips pressed against hers.
The throb in my ankle dulled to a murmur, my body welcoming the reprieve Octavia’s lips offered.
Goose bumps dotted across my arms as she sighed into my mouth, giving my tongue a taste of something all too rare from Octavia Daniel: reaction first, logic in the backseat.
I would have reveled in the ability to bring a woman like her to a disheveled state like this, but when the kiss became more frantic, my senses rushed to the forefront.
“Rae?” Octavia reached for me when I pulled away.
“Sorry—” The back of my hand pressed against my bottom lip. Octavia’s gaze flickered there, examining where her teeth had sunk in.
Her eyes went big. “Did I hurt you?”
“No, no,” I said quickly. “Of course not. You just…I just…”
“It’s fine.” She tugged her locs over her shoulders, fingers trembling for something to hold on to after I left her floating in an ocean alone. “You don’t have to explain. I’m fine.”
“This isn’t how I like to do things.” I tried to catch her gaze, but it lingered on something in the room. “Kissing clients.”
“I’m the one who asked.”
“And I should have reminded you that tonight will make you want to do things you never—”
“I didn’t want to kiss you because I almost died.” Octavia’s tone was cold and sharp. “I kissed you because it hurt not to anymore. And it’s easier just doing it than explaining it.”
I could explain it, the need to catalog every one of her curious questions and rank my answers from most likely to win her over to least. The desire to tuck her into the RV and take her across the country to show her that there could be beauty on the road.
And there were people who would fall in love with her if she let them.
“I’m working on your case,” I said more so to myself.
“Then maybe it’s me who should be apologizing.” Octavia pressed her lips together, sharpness dulling with guilt.
“No, it’s me. I’m used to this kind of chaos. You’re not.”
“I grew up on the road with emotionally unavailable parents.” She let out a dry laugh. “I think I understand how to deal with my feelings under pressure.”
“A crack within a philosophical perspective is bigger than living on the road, Octavia,” I whispered, hoping she wouldn’t take offense.
She took a breath, looking at the ground for a second before saying, “You’re not wrong.”
“It’s quite rare,” I agreed.
Octavia scoffed. “But you’re not right either.”
“I liked it,” I said. “If that means anything.”
Her eyes softened, and she leaned against the doorframe again. “It means everything.”
“But—”
“You’re working on my case.” She smiled.
“And you’re being stalked by a demon.”
“All the more reason to kiss the woman I find attractive,” she whispered.
The confirmation burned through my worry; the only fireproof part of me was desire.
But the precaution wasn’t just because her perspective on the world had shifted.
It was also a guardrail for me and my insecurities.
How could I offer parts of myself to someone when I didn’t even know which ones fit anymore?
It would be more than just unfair; it’d be cruel.
“Do you not find me…”
“Octavia,” I said, tone clipped, bordering on pissed. “It’s entirely possible I will dream of this moment until I have the chance to taste you properly. And if I never do, it’ll be what I think about until the memory’s too old to recall. So, yes, I find you attractive.”
She blinked, frozen as my words fell at her feet. I wanted to kneel with them too and apologize for how ill-prepared I’d been to meet her. I’d had twenty-eight years to prepare, and I’d carelessly wasted them.
“I did a sweep of your room while you were with Wilson.” I focused hard on keeping my voice steady. “Everything checked out just fine. I’ll be right outside if you need me. It shouldn’t be strong enough to follow us here.”
She swallowed, nodding numbly.
“When things get…less…” I tried. “Maybe we should talk?”
“We should.”
I almost reached for her before shoving my hands into my pockets. “Sleep well, Octavia.”
“You, too.” She offered me one last smile before slipping into her room.
The door clicked shut behind her. I forced myself to walk away, even though some part of me had her still pinned to that doorframe, kissing her until her name on my lips was the only conjuring that could protect us from everything, including ourselves.