by Molly O'Hare
“Thank god.” She breathed out a sigh of relief. Maybe he’d gone into work already?
Confidently, Olive walked to the kitchen with the plan of grabbing some snacks to hold her over for a while, as she entered her next marathon writing session. As she reached the pantry door in search of her goodies, she heard a grunt come from the bathroom. “Eep.” She held her hand over her heart. Realizing Hank was indeed still in the apartment her panic started to rise. Must work faster.
She quickly grabbed some food and made her way back through the living room.
That’s when she saw it.
Her goodies completely forgotten, fell from her hands cascading onto the floor, as her mouth opened in utter shock and disbelief.
“He fucking didn’t!”
Every book on her bookshelf was out of place. Some were upside down, others were on the floor, nothing was where it belonged.
Her chest tightened.
Her most sacred possessions had been tampered with. Moving back in disbelief her eyes hardened as her body tensed. “I’ll fucking kill him!”
She ran to the bathroom and started pounding on the door. “Let me in you, asshole, so I can strangle you!”
Taking a step back she readied herself to fling her body full force into the door. Excess body weight, don’t fail me now! Using all her strength, she leaped, her shoulder at the ready. However, her body never came in contact with the door. Before she knew it, she was flying through the air.
“Fuck, Olive.” She heard a voice grumble as she felt her body collide with a wall of muscles. “Are you okay?”
Ignoring the fact her body was plastered against his wet chest, she jumped from his grip. “Am I okay? Am. I. Okay?”
“That’s what I asked?” Hank had the nerve to fuckin’ smile at her.
Kill him! She opened her mouth to tell him what for, when Hank moved his hands to his waist. That’s when she realized he was only wearing a towel.
Not just any towel, though. Her favorite fluffy towel. She clenched her teeth as her breathing hardened. She was about to add his use of her towel to her list of grievances when he untucked the material around his waist and opened it slightly to readjust.
It gave her the perfect glimpse of his muscular thigh. The edge of the towel was only millimeters from giving her a show she’d never forget. Her mouth dried as heat poured low in her belly.
“Olive?” His voice held amusement.
Olive’s eyes snapped to his. The gleam in his eyes had her cheeks heating.
Holy crapolie. Caught. Eww! Olive’s face cringed. You’ve been caught staring at Hank. Hank the Tank of all people!
“What’s got your panties in a bunch, Olive Oil?” He chuckled.
With those two words her anger came back full force, her lust thrown away. Taking a step closer to him she pushed her finger into his slick chest. “You’ve gone too far this time, Hank Parker.”
His smile widened. “Whatever do you mean, little Olive Oil?”
Her arms crossed over her chest. She could feel her blood pressure rise. Great, with my luck, I’ll be on the floor having heart palpitations at any moment. “The hell you do,” she sneered.
Olive stomped out of the bathroom, leaving Hank to follow. When she made it into the living room she pointed to her bookshelf. “Fix it,” she demanded. “Now!”
Hank leaned his shoulder against the doorframe of the bathroom crossing his arms over his chest, as he shot her a smug grin. “No.”
Olive’s eyes widened as she blinked a few times. “What do you mean no?”
“Exactly that.” He shrugged. “No.”
Her anger rose to an all-time high. What the hell did he say? Fuck this! The possibilities of her next move started raging through her head. Take him down! He had a lot of muscle on him, but if she timed it right she could do it. As the reality of the situation had her seeing red, she threw caution to the wind. She took her first steps like she was a prized stallion ready to win her next trophy. She screamed out a war cry as she took off running through the room.
That’s when she heard the hiss of death come from the beast cat, towards her right. She was thrown off balance scanning for the cat to make its move and finally end her. “Shit!” She screamed as she lost her footing and fell backward onto the couch. Quickly she picked her feet off the floor shielding her legs from the attack she knew was coming.
Hank placed his hand on his stomach as he barked out a laugh at the show. “Damn Olive, who knew living with you would be so entertaining?”
She was about to scold him when the sight of the beast caught her eye. She pulled her body into itself. “There it is!”
That only made Hank laugh harder, as he walked into the room. “She only picks on you because you let her.”
Olive’s brow rose. “I let her?”
“Yeah, she thinks you’re an easy target.” He moved through the room.
Olive’s face hardened. “Is that why you think you can pick on me? I let you.” She huffed. “What a crock of shit that is.”
Hank had the audacity to look wounded. “I don’t pick on you.”
Holy hell, Batman. This man was utterly insane. She pointed to her bookshelf. “What do you call that?”
“Oh,” Hank remarked. “That’s nothing, but pranks between roommates.”
Her lips thinned as every muscle in her body tensed. “Pranks. Between. Roommates.” The words ground out of her mouth. “No. I don’t call that pranks between roommates, I call that torture.” Her eyes broke from his as she looked back at her precious bookshelf. The shelf that held all her favorite books. The books she found her escape in. The books that changed her life.
She couldn’t take this anymore.
She was tired of living in fear in her own home. Her shoulders fell as her vision blurred. “Why won’t you just leave me alone?” Her voice broke.
Hank stared at her, his face calm, but his eyes held a pained look she’d never seen. He shook his head. “Fuck, Olive. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He walked closer, his movements jerky. “I was only joking around.”
Moving further into the couch away from him, she shook her head as her voice cracked. “Not with my things. My babies.”
Hank paled.
She wished she could find comfort in his rare behavior, but she couldn’t. She had nothing left to give.
Olive was surprised when Hank crouched in front of her on the couch putting a stray piece of her messy chestnut hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry, Olive.”
The sincerity in his eyes had her examining his features for the lie.
He spoke softly as he continued, “Let me put on some shorts and we can sort out your bookshelf. Okay?”
Hank had finally broken her. As she fought to control herself, her body took over. She looked into his eyes, and all she could manage was a small nod.
Hank cursed himself as he made it into his room. What the fuck was wrong with him? All he wanted to do was rile her up a bit. Not bring her to tears.
His fists clenched at his sides, as he did his best not to punch a hole in the wall. What the hell was I thinking? All he wanted to accomplish was keeping her on her toes. You know, to bring a little fun in her life, make her not take things so seriously.
He’d never known someone who would stay in their bedroom twenty-three hours of the day, doing god knows what. It wasn’t healthy. He tried justifying his actions, but was coming up short. He’d be lying if he didn’t admit to enjoying seeing the fire in her eyes when he got under her skin. The look she’d give him, would set him on fire. Who knew his wallflower had so much passion inside of her. He was dying to break her free. Force her to feel the flames inside of her.
Looking over his shoulder he saw her utterly defeated on the couch. “Fuck,” he swore as he dug his fingers into the palm of his hand.
Taking a deep breath, he vowed to make this right.
He threw on some shorts as he noticed Dog had followed him into his bedroom. “You and I have got to mak
e a pact, girl.” He moved to the cat scratching her on the head briefly. “We both need to stop messing with Olive. Deal?”
The cat blinked slowly at him, before bringing her paw to her mouth to lick it.
“Really?” Hank stared at Dog. “We can play it your way. If you insist. No more cat treats unless you start being nicer.” The cat stopped licking her paw and stared at him. “I mean it.”
Dog plopped onto her back, showing Hank her belly. He laughed before moving to her. Scratching her briefly, he smiled. “Your charms will not sway my mission.” Ignoring the cat, he took a calming breath before making his way towards the door.
When he stepped into the living room he saw Olive on the floor removing all her books from the bookshelves. Her shoulders dropped low as she rearranged them. Her defeated posture was like a punch to his gut. “Your books mean a lot to you, don’t they?” he asked while he crouched down next to her. When she turned her doe eyes towards him, it was another sucker punch to the gut almost knocking him on his ass.
“They mean the world to me,” she whispered. Turning away from him, she went back to removing the books.
He’d never seen her like this. Reaching his hand on one of the books he brought it to the floor. “Let’s get them back in order then.”
For the next forty-five minutes they rearranged the shelves. He listened as she talked about each book.
Olive also made a new pile on the coffee table of books she wanted to move into her bedroom, for rereading. He didn’t quite understand why she needed to reread a book, you already knew what was going to happen so why bother, but her excitement on finding her hidden gems amongst the books excited him.
Her smile would spread from ear to ear as she exclaimed her love of this author or that book. She’d go on and on about plot twists and forgotten love. His heart melted the first time he saw her bring a book to her chest giving it a slight hug before placing it in its rightful pile.
This was Olive in her element and he loved every second of it. The wonderment in her eyes as she recalled her stories warmed him.
She was beautiful. He wanted to see this Olive more often. He needed to see it.
He was done with her hiding herself away in her room. As he watched her open another book and skim through a few of the pages, her smile widened across her face, he knew at that moment he’d do anything to see this every day.
“How about a truce?” he asked, distracting her from the book in her lap.
“Huh?”
He chuckled at her scrunched nose. “A truce. I promise to no longer mess with your stuff,” he said matter of fact.
“Okay,” she side-eyed him. “That’s not a truce. That’s just you saying you’ll stop.”
He held up his hands in surrender. “I will stop if you come out of your room more. I feel like my moving in here has banished you into your room.”
“It has.”
At least she’s honest. “I want to change that. From today going forward, I promise no more pranks if you promise to come out of your room every once in a while. I prefer having a roommate I actually see from time to time.”
“Why?”
“Because I like human interaction.” He leaned back on his arms as the corners of his mouth rose into a smile.
“I avoid it at all costs.” She moved from her sitting position and over to the coffee table.
“I’ve noticed.” Hank stared at her as she worked on gathering her reread pile. He jumped to his feet moving to her side. “Here let me help you.
“I’ve got it.”
“Olive didn’t we just agree to be friends?” He smugly said before lightly pushing her out of the way.
He did his best not to laugh when her face scrunched. “I guess.”
“Then let me help you.” Ignoring her protest Hank walked into her room, with the pile of books in his arms, but he stopped frozen in his tracks. “Why the hell do you have a Christmas tree in your room?”
Chapter Five
Things had calmed down around the apartment since Hank and Olive had their heart to heart. Although Olive was still forced to wear a bra, she did find herself relaxing and venturing out of her room more often.
Well, that was as long as the creature was nowhere to be found.
She also noticed Hank going out of his way to be nice to her. Sure, there were still times she found him, purposely rearranging items in the apartment to get a rise out of her, but that was Hank. She’d come to expect it. Just as long as he never went near her books again. What was really surprising was how he’d even gone as far as picking up the groceries for the apartment, or doing any laundry he found.
This was not the Hank she knew. He was actually pretty in tune to her needs, even bringing her water from time to time.
Of course, at first, she suspected he’d poisoned it, but after making him drink the whole thing she realized he really was being nice.
Her eyes widened. How long does it take for someone to assimilate into their surroundings? Could Hank be some weird alien clone sent to destroy the world? What if he was slowly gathering information on her and waiting until her guard was down to make his move? Oh shit, what if he has some weird alien device that he’ll use to change me into a Zombie. Her heart rate increased. What if I become the first zombie? Quickly she searched her arms and body for anything out of the norm.
Realizing her insanity, she shook her head to get rid of the thoughts. She grabbed her laptop which was sitting on the coffee table in front of her and rearranged herself on the couch. She had a deadline to meet and thinking about Hank and his strange behavior was not going to get it done.
Actually, she pondered for a second. I am working on describing a character. Maybe I can use some inspiration. She noticed Hank’s bedroom door was open. She started to lean over, trying to catch a glimpse of him. Straining her neck, she thought she could see some of his naked chest. Just a little farther…
That’s when Hank walked out of his room and smiled her way.
“Ahh!” Olive fell to the floor, as she tried, and failed to right herself. Embarrassed, she made a show of looking for a nonexistent pen that had fallen on the floor.
“What are you doing, Olive?”
“Nothing,” she said blowing her hair out of her eyes once she finally pushed herself into a human position and not a catastrophic mess on the floor.
“You make a habit of crawling around on the floor, there sweet cheeks?” he teased.
Her face heated before she jumped to her feet. Thankfully her laptop hadn’t hit the floor, so she grabbed it in one hand before sitting on the couch and putting it on her lap. “If you call me sweet cheeks one more time I will poison your coffee.”
“That’s your first mistake.” He laughed. “Never show your hand.” He walked towards the couch plopping next to her. “Whatcha working on?”
“Work stuff.”
He leaned over pushing his body weight onto hers. “And what’s that?”
She quickly shut down her laptop. “It’s boring.” She moved her computer back to the coffee table before sitting back in her seat. “Don’t you work today?” she asked, looking around the room. Might as well deflect the best you can, Olive.
Hank scrutinized her, she wasn’t dumb. She could tell he was trying to figure out her lie. “Yes,” he answered. “I go in at one.”
Grabbing her phone, she placed it in front of his face. “It’s already eleven thirty. You’ll need to get ready soon. I know how you like to manscape.”
Hank’s brows shot to the ceiling. “Do you now?”
She blinked. “No, I mean, well, I assume you do. Don’t most men like you do that kind of shit?”
He openly stared at her as his brow raised the impossible bit more. “Men like me?”
Her eyes widened. Crap on a stick. Abort. Abort. Abort.
Hank threw his head back as he barked out a laugh. “Olive Oil, you never cease to amaze me.” Using his arms to push himself off the couch, Olive watched as his muscles r
ippled. How was it possible to look that good just getting up from the couch? As she watched his naked back move out of view as he walked towards his bedroom, his words registered. “Didn’t I tell you to stop calling me Olive Oil?”
He turned facing her before giving her a wink. “Men like me don’t listen.”
Grabbing the napkin, she’d used with her breakfast she wadded it up throwing it at his back. “Asshole.”
Hank burst out laughing as he went into his room.
Fucker.
Ignoring him, she grabbed her laptop once again. Her deadline was calling. As she opened her writing program, she started scanning her recent work.
She’d somehow forgotten what she’d written this morning. Olive felt her skin heat as she read back through her last few paragraphs. She was knee deep in the beginnings of a sex scene where her alpha male had his plaything over his lap as he had his fingers deep inside her.
Instantly her mind started forming pictures of Hank having her bent over his lap, his fingers seeking out her- No! Stop that! Right now. She shivered. No way in hell was she going down that path. Shaking her head, she stretched her neck, before closing her eyes.
Get into your headspace, Olive. Ignore the sexy firefighter in the next room. She blanched.
What is wrong with you, Olive? It is not okay to have those types of thoughts about your best friend’s brother. No, no siree bub. Not okay! Ignore the half-naked firefighter only a few feet from you.
Taking a deep breath, she did her best to ignore the humming coming from Hank’s room as he moved around getting ready for his shift.
“You can do this,” she whispered to herself.
Focus.
As she placed her fingers on the keyboard, the rest of the world melted away as she went into her writer’s space. This is how it always happened for her. One moment she was questioning all her choices or being distracted by her surroundings and the next she was in the zone.
This was her happy place.
Hank made his way out of his bedroom searching everywhere. Once again, he couldn’t find his keys to save his life. Right now, he had about fifteen minutes to get out of the apartment and make his way to the station or he’d be late.