He stands in front of me and opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He looks tired today, now that I see him up close. I offer him a small smile.
“You want your usual?”
Oliver meets my eyes and he smiles a little. “Thanks...but maybe something stronger today. An espresso would be great, please.”
“Okay.”
I turn my back on him to make the drink and give him some time to gather his thoughts. He’s nervous, and I don’t envy him right now. Everything has been so strange between us since we kissed for the first time. Hell, the second kiss turned everything upside down. Now, we’re faced with the awkwardness of reality, and I can tell he’s as unprepared as I am. There’s no queue behind him, so as I push his coffee toward him, he hovers, his expression one of uncertainty. Then, after a long moment, he meets my eyes.
“Things are...complicated,” he tells me. I nod.
“Sure.”
“Things with Violet...they’re delicate. And I want to talk to you properly...somewhere outside of work or class. I’d like to see you...alone.”
My heart skips a beat. I imagine him and me alone at my flat. I think I could drown out the sounds of the surrounding apartments if I had the chance to get lost in his voice, in his kiss, in his embrace. Or maybe for once, we’d be the noisy ones. I blush at the thought. Some thoughts are too dirty to have at work…
“What do you think? Can we meet up and talk about it?” he asks, a tinge of desperation in his voice. He glances over his shoulder, seeming a little twitchy. And then it clicks. He knows his friends are going to show up at any minute now. He knows he’s going to get caught talking to me. Maybe that’s embarrassing to him, I don’t know. It makes my stomach twist with frustration. He cares so much about what other people think of him, when I’m right here, trying to appreciate him, flaws and all. Is that why he’s drawn to me? Because I’m seeing good in him when he’s not as perfect as he pretends to be?
This boy is becoming frustrating to me. I don’t know how to be around him. I sigh, leaning against the counter.
“Look, I’d like to meet up, but I have to work. I have a freelancing project to work on when I get home...I don’t know when I’ll be able to fit it in.”
It’s the honest truth. It’s also my way of backing off, I guess. Like I said...making connections with people is complicated. I like him, but I don’t know if I’m ready for his kind of complicated in my life. As though things aren’t difficult enough without him stirring up more trouble.
But my rejection seems to hurt him. His whole face seems to droop like a wilting flower. He fiddles with the espresso cup, not looking me in the eye.
“Look, I know I’ve dragged you into all this...but I came here to speak to you because I like you. I want to see where things could go with us,” he says, still not looking at me. “I just wanted a chance to explain everything to you...but if you’re too busy to hear me out, fine.”
“I didn’t mean-”
“It’s okay. I understand. I’m a lot to take on,” he cuts in, looking embarrassed. “I shouldn’t have come here...I’m sorry. I won’t bother you anymore.”
Before I can protest, he leaves some money on the counter and leaves without drinking his coffee. If I wasn’t working, I’d run after him. I made a mistake in trying to push him away, but I wish he could understand that I wasn’t lying to him. My life is crammed full, and there’s so little room for someone else in it that I’ve stopped trying to find it.
But he’s made me want to store each spare second in the day up to put aside for him. He’s made me want to give up everything else in order to have five minutes of his time. I don’t want to let these new, exciting feelings go. I want to be like everyone else.
But the fact is that I’m not. Maybe it would be best if I let this go...but I’m not sure I can.
Maybe I need to give this one more go.
Tonight, when I get home, I’ll try and explain what’s going on. I’ll do my best to build a bridge, if it’s not too late.
And maybe, just maybe, things will work out the way I want them to for once.
Chapter Eight
Oliver
I was meant to hang out with my friends after speaking to Willow, but I didn’t feel like it so I headed home and tried to write. I spent an hour staring at my computer screen, waiting for something to happen. I was full of emotion and I thought it would be the perfect fuel to make me write, but it had the opposite effect, draining me until I felt empty.
After some time trying, I eventually put my laptop away and lie on my bed with my eyes closed. I want to speak to one of my siblings, or preferably all of them, but I feel like I’ll be bothering them by doing so. It feels like I should hold back on my own issues when I know that each of them has their own stuff going on. It feels selfish to fill up all their time with my problems.
Normally, I’d speak to Violet, but of course, that won’t work this time around. She’s the main issue, really. I know that she’ll never be happy with me pining after anyone, but her. I know that she will be hurt to see me around anyone else. And I get it. If she feels the same way I feel toward Willow, then I know how painful the thought of her with someone else is. I guess that’s what Violet thinks when she considers the possibility that I might end up with someone that isn’t her.
I also want to talk to Willow now that I’ve calmed down, but it hurt watching her push me away again. I’ve made myself vulnerable in order to get to her, something I’m not used to doing. But I know I’m being selfish, expecting her to keep giving me chances when I’ve been nothing, but erratic since our first kiss. If only she’d said yes to giving me some time to explain myself, we could maybe move past it. But she had every right to tell me she was too busy for me. I guess now I just need to live with the fact that it’s never going to happen between us.
As I lie in bed, I put my phone on my chest and wait for someone to contact me. I didn’t mention that I wasn’t showing up to our writer’s circle today, but no one has bothered to chase me up. Maybe they know about what happened between me and Violet after all. I wonder what she’s told them. I guess I’m the villain of her tale, though I never meant for that to happen. Maybe I deserve that. But the thought that I might’ve lost my friends all in one fell swoop makes this whole day even more depressing. I know that I’m being self-pitying and I hate it, but on days like this, I think I could just lie back and let the misery consume me entirely.
I’ve always struggled with my emotions. I always feel things in excess. When I’m at my happiest, which is a rare occasion these days, I feel like nothing could ever knock me off my pedestal. I’m consumed by confidence, almost cocky in my reactions to the world around me. At times like that, words fly beneath my fingers and I can type for hours without stopping, writing some of my wildest and most interesting stories. I’ll run on empty, needing less sleep than usual and feeling no pressure to replace lost hours with caffeine overdoses.
But when my lows hit, sometimes weeks pass by where I’m low and angry at the world. Every little thing annoys me. I never want to get out of bed. I forget to eat and lose weight until I can feel my bones protruding from my ribcage and I have to remind myself to start buying groceries again. I neglect my writing, and sometimes my friends. Usually, I push through, knowing that if I disappear for a few weeks, my friends would move on and forget me. It’s that simple in their world. Those who can’t keep up get left behind. And as I lie here now, I realise how unimportant I am to them all. I realise that I’ve built my foundation for happiness on a bunch of people only interested in keeping up appearances. Some day, when we leave university and go our separate ways, we’ll all just stop talking all together, and I’ll have the sense to know it’s nothing personal. It won’t matter to them because I never mattered in the first place.
It’s a dark place to be on a midweek afternoon. So when the phone finally buzzes on my chest, it feels like a defibrillator has just shocked me back to life. I try not to over excite
myself as I check to see who has messaged me. And when I see who the message is from, my heart suddenly soars.
Willow actually messaged me. I can’t believe it. I thought I’d never hear from her again. I guess that’s a little dramatic, but with all the tension in the air, it seems like a strange time for her to message me. I open up her text and find an entire paragraph in front of my eyes.
Hey, Oliver. I feel really bad about how things panned out before. I think I was trying to push you away a little at first, but not because I don’t want to get to know you. My life is kind of complicated, as you might have gathered, and sometimes I get scared about letting other people in. This is way more honest than I intended to be, but I like you, and I don’t want to miss the chance of something good.
I don’t know what your deal with Violet is, but I’d like to. I want to talk this over. But I meant what I said about work. I freelance as well as my shifts at the coffee shop and I struggle a lot with time. That’s why I never tend to show up to events etc.
So I really am sorry, but I don’t know when I’ll have time to talk. I don’t know if that puts you off...but if you’re willing to wait, I’ll wait as patiently as I can to speak with you again.
The final words in her message set my heart aflame. It feels so personal. In my head, we’re both staring at clocks, our bodies multitasking while our hearts and our eyes are set on the ticking of time. But I’m far too impatient. Now that I know she’s not given up on me and her, I need to find some other solution. I need to find a way to see her.
I can feel my hands shaking with anticipation as I message her back.
I’m so glad you messaged me...I’ve been thinking of you. How about a study date tonight? Or I can help you with your freelancing? I understand if not, I know you’re busy...I just want to see you.
I hit send before I can chicken out and wait anxiously, feeling every single beat of my heart against my ribcage. I’ve never been like this before. Even when I was younger and I had a new girlfriend every few months, no one made my heart race like this. For once, it feels like there’s something at stake if things go wrong, and I’ve only shared a few kisses with her.
But Willow is different. She likes the same things as me. She’s got the body of a goddess. She’s smart and level-headed and reasonable while I can be erratic and wild. She balances me out and brings out the side of me that I wish I brought out more around my friends. I’m starting to realize that the company I keep isn’t half as good as spending a few precious minutes in her company.
Isn’t this what love is meant to feel like?
Of course, I’m not in love with her. We don’t know one another well enough, but there’s potential here, I know there is. I can see past our first dates and to a place where we hang out comfortably without pressure, without awkwardness, and without pain. I can see happiness in a future we haven’t laid the paving stones to yet. But maybe tonight...maybe tonight could be one step toward that.
She doesn’t reply for some time, and it only makes me feel more anxious. I wonder if maybe I’ve put too much pressure on her too fast. But as the sky begins to darken outside, my phone buzzes once again and I take a deep breath, feeling the need to brace myself for whatever the text says.
A study date could work...so long as studying actually happens! Come over whenever you’re ready.
I grin to myself. My bad mood has come to an immediate end as I throw myself out of bed and toward my wardrobe. I want to look good, even if it’s a study date. After all, I’ve got a lot to live up to. The first time we kissed, we were at a party. The second time, we were both looking our best to eat at the restaurant. When she opens the door, I want the first thing she thinks to be that I look good tonight. Her opinion is the only one that matters to me, but it matters way more than it should. I’ve never felt the need for someone else’s approval to feel myself, but now, I feel like that’s changed for her.
I shower quickly and throw on a casual shirt and my best aftershave. I don’t want to look like I’ve tried too hard, but I know this shirt is always a winner. I shove my wallet in my jeans and grab my laptop so that I can at least pretend to study while she’s working. Then, with her address saved on my phone, I head out. It’s not too far, but from the address she’s given me, it’s obvious that she’s not living in the student housing.
As I approach her flat, the street seems darker and more sinister. The road is dotted with seedy looking takeaways and a few tattoo parlours with groups of men huddled in the doorways, smoking. I’ve never ventured up this way before and it feels like I stick out here. Violet once told me she could sense my privilege a mile off, and it filled me with guilt. I’ve always known that I’m better off than most, but coming to places like this, I can see why Willow has clashed with me over my attitude to money in the past. I’m luckier than so many people, and I’ve never once appreciated that.
But she makes me want to be better. She makes me want to understand people more. I want to show her that I’m not just some stuck up white boy. I’m going to grow. I’m going to be a better man.
And I want her to be around to see it.
Willow
Since I sent Oliver the text telling him to come over, I haven’t been able to concentrate one bit. I told myself that I wouldn’t allow things to get out of hand tonight. I told myself that I’d hear him out and then keep working. I told myself to have some self-restraint, for my own sake.
But now that I know he’s coming here, I can’t help overthinking everything. I sprayed some cheap perfume in the air in the hopes of making the place more homely. I opened the curtain to let some light in because there’s only one dim bulb to light the room. I felt like my breath might smell so I brushed my teeth twice. I thought the flat might look a little drab so I spent a good ten minutes trying to spruce the place up, knowing that his own place is much nicer than here.
And what if he’s put off by this place and the way I live? There are dark yellow patches on the wall, the carpet is frayed and one of the windows has been boarded up since I moved in. If I don’t even feel at home here, how will he react to my surroundings? I feel suddenly ashamed, as though I don’t work hard to afford this place myself and feed myself well and put clothes on my own back. Why should I be made to feel this way just because someone richer than I’ll ever be is coming over to my flat?
I push all my negative thoughts aside. He’s the one who wanted to come here. He’s the one who has been chasing me while I’ve sat back and waited to see what will happen next. He wouldn’t do that if he didn’t have an active interest in me. I need to stop putting myself down. Whatever his reason is for coming here, it’s something good. For once, I’ll get something good.
When I get the text from him telling me he’s outside, I check my hair once before heading out to meet him.
Oliver looks too damn good right now. He’s just wearing a pair of gray jeans and a soft-looking black jumper, but the ease of the way he wears it makes the whole thing so much better. His hair is messy, but deliberately so. His backpack is slung lazily over one shoulder like he’s just rushed out of the house, and he’s holding a pizza box in one hand. It’s like he’s tried hard to look like he doesn’t care, but the effect is the opposite. He looks like he’s trying to impress someone.
He’s trying to impress me.
He smiles, aiming for his usual cocky attitude, but falling short of the mark. “Hey. Can I come in?”
“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” I say, biting back a smile. He looks hesitant as he steps into the hallway. Down here, in the entrance hall, it stinks of cigarette smoke and fast food. I glance at him, looking for any sign on his face of disgust, but he doesn’t say or do anything. He doesn’t even have a slight wrinkle in his nose. It kind of seems like he hasn’t even noticed the state of the hallway, with leaflets strewn on the floor and the muddy footprints leading to various flat doors. He’s only looking at me.
“I brought sustenance...I didn’t know if you’d eaten ye
t...or what you’d like to eat toppings wise...so I just got cheese pizza.”
“You really didn’t have to…” I tell him. I don’t have much experience with men outside of one night stands, and yet this feels like the closest I’ve been to receiving flowers. It’s not a romantic gesture, exactly, but it’s a sign he’s been thinking about me. The pizza smells good, and it feels like a peace offering. He shrugs like it’s nothing, because to him, it is.
“I thought it would be nice...study sessions are lame without some snacks to get distracted by.”
“Well...that’s really nice of you. Thank you.”
He shrugs again, and his cheeks look a little red. Is Oliver really blushing?
“Lead the way…”
I feel nervous as he follows behind me up the stairs. I’m aware from this angle that he can see every inch of me and I can’t even turn to see if he’s looking. It makes me feel like I’m on display, and I can’t tell if I like that or not. I want him to notice me...and yet I feel too shy to relax about it. Shyness isn’t my thing, though. It never has been, and I’m not going to allow a man to knock my nerves, even if it’s for all the right reasons.
I can feel my fingers trembling as I fumble with my keys, but I tell myself to get a grip. He waits patiently, his shoulder leaning against the wall beside the door and watching me as though I’m doing something very interesting. That explains the nerves, I guess; it’s like he’s expecting me to put on some kind of show for him, as though I’m meant to be intriguing to him all the time. Rich boys like shiny things, I suppose. I glance at him with a raised eyebrow.
“Did you come prepared to study?”
He shrugs. “I brought my laptop.”
“Good. I’ve got a million and one things to do…”
As I open the door to the flat I stride in with as much confidence as I can muster. I keep my chin high, hoping I look proud of my place here. If I see it as a palace, maybe he will too.
Better Than Heaven (The Bachelor Brothers Book 1) Page 7