by C. Luca
He snorts. “Not on my watch. We’re going out.”
My hand pauses, and I set the washcloth down and focus all my attention on him as I straighten and give him a stern look. “You don’t make decisions for me, Oliver.”
My admonishment doesn’t seem to faze him as he simply grins good-naturedly at me. “Will you please come out with me, Elena?” he implores with a teasing note in his voice.
“Where are you going?” I ask out of natural curiosity.
“Wanna mini golf?”
Mini golf. It sounds tempting…and so normal. I’m longing for a bit of normalcy. Not because of the alters, but because of what I was doing just two short weeks ago. I yearn to be someone else, to do normal things without my past being shoved down my throat.
Oliver is patiently waiting as he watches me debate whether to give in or not.
I shouldn’t…but it’s obvious Cameron and Griffin are comfortable with me keeping Oliver ‘entertained’ as Griffin had put it. I’m not an idiot. I’m basically babysitting him because they don’t want to or are tired of doing teenager things.
“Okay, we’ll go golfing,” I agree.
His handsome face brightens. “Great. Go change.”
I give him a look. “There’s nothing wrong with what I’m wearing.” I’m in my usual tee and leggings.
“Go put on something fun,” he urges.
The only fun clothing I own is the dress Knight bought me, and that is certainly not appropriate for golfing. “This is about all I have, so it’s this or nothing,” I say levelly.
One of his eyebrows lift, reminding me of Knight.
“You know what I meant,” I tell him, keeping my expression firm. Every once in a while, I can tell that he’s trying to flirt with me. Cameron wasn’t kidding, Oliver is a handful and then some. But yet he’s still easily likable.
He shrugs. “We need to get you shopping.”
“That’s what Knight said,” I muse.
“He’s right. Let’s book.”
As we leave the kitchen, I comment that we should let Cameron and Griffin know where we’re going.
“One of them is probably lurking nearby and already know.”
We make our way down to the garage, and Oliver pulls out a set of keys from his jeans pocket and makes his way towards one of two, sleek red cars. The one he heads for is red and black, while the other reminds me of a Ferrari convertible. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if it were.
Suddenly, I feel a little doubtful about this outing as I pause beside the passenger door. “You drive?” I ask cautiously.
He gives me a look as he reaches for the passenger door and opens it for me. “I’m seventeen,” he reminds.
“I meant…” Nathan’s the one with the license, so Oliver’s never taken a road test.
He flashes me a grin. “Relax, Griffin taught me.”
I still find myself hesitating.
His eyes gleam with merriment. “I swear I know how to drive. Besides, the second the garage door opens, Cam or Griffin will be there to follow us,” he assures.
After eyeing him, I cave and climb into the passenger seat. Hopefully I’m not making a mistake.
Sure enough, when the garage door opens, there’s a black SUV idling in the drive, waiting to follow us.
Okay, now I feel better, and I begin to relax.
TWELVE
Elena
As I prepare breakfast the following morning, I find myself hoping that Oliver will make another appearance today. After my run-in with Brick, it’s been nice to relax and enjoy Oliver’s company. He’s very easy to be around.
Cameron wanders in and walks to the island where I have French toast and side dishes prepared. As he picks up a plate, he glances at me. “Oliver’s taken a liking to you.”
“Is that okay?” I’m assuming everything I’ve been doing has been fine, but I’d like to have it confirmed.
Cameron places three slices of French toast on his plate before glancing at me. “If this is going to be long term—you being here—then yes. If this is just a stepping stone to get you back on your feet then it wouldn’t be wise for him to become too attached,” he says lightly.
I nod in agreement. At this point, I have no plans to go anywhere. “Does Oliver typically go out a lot?”
“It varies,” Cameron says, reaching for the butter knife. “There’s only so much he can do by himself, and Griffin and I try to deter him from going out.”
“That must be frustrating for him,” I can’t resist commenting.
He sets down the plate and reaches for the syrup. “We’re tactful. We can also tell if he’s simply bored or if he’s restless from being cooped up. If it’s restlessness, his happiness is more important than keeping him out of the public eye.”
“What if he wants to go out again today?”
“It’s fine. With you, it looks like he’s on a date.” He gives me a stern look. “Make sure he understands that it’s not.”
“Of course.” Yesterday had been a bit of adjustment, and at times I’d found myself admiring Oliver’s attractiveness, but as the day and evening had worn on, it became easier to ignore the attraction. Oliver acts like a teenager, and in his presence, it’s easy for me to feel like the adult in charge.
Cameron settles in at the island to eat, and I begin cleaning up while ignoring my rumbling stomach. I’m hungry, but I prefer not to eat until everyone else has had their fill.
Oliver enters the kitchen five minutes later, wearing his usual backward facing baseball cap, and jeans. Evidently, he prefers skipping shirts, because he’s bare-chested again today. He rubs his rigid abs. “I’m starved,” he announces before his eyes fall upon me. He grins. “Morning, E.” He nods at Cameron. “Cam.”
He’d begun calling me E last night, and I kind of like it. No one has ever given me a nickname before. I move to the island and reach for a plate before holding it out to him.
“Thanks.” He accepts it and begins piling his plate with food. Then, he sits in the chair next to Cameron and begins digging in.
I’m in the middle of loading the dishwasher when Oliver’s voice draws my attention. “Can I take you shopping?”
I glance over and find that he’s looking right at me. I straighten and give him a chiding look. “I have work to do. And stop insulting my clothing.”
Oliver just gazes at me, completely unperturbed by my rejection. “Come on E, you need to live a little.”
“I’m happy as I am,” I reply firmly.
He sets down his fork, determination glinting in his gaze. “I like you as you are too, but you need to lighten up. Buy some stuff that’s not so monochromatic.” His expression turns devilish. “If you don’t want to go shopping, I’ll go shopping for you. It’ll give me something to do instead of sitting around the house bored out of my mind.”
Oliver, I’m finding, can be incredibly exasperating at times. “You can’t buy me things.”
He leans back in his chair, expression arrogant now. “I have the entire Lancaster fortune at my disposal,” he reminds.
“You’re not shopping for me.”
“Explain that to Nathan when he finds all the charges on his credit cards.”
I stare at him with growing disbelief. “Are you blackmailing me?”
He gives me a boyish grin. “Depends. Is it working?”
When I turn to Cameron for help, he shrugs. “I’m Sweden.”
“Which is the same as saying you’re fucked,” Oliver adds.
Cameron shoots him a look. “Language, kid.”
I gaze at Oliver with a sense of frustration. I’m battling with a teenager who looks like he’s in his mid to late twenties. Again, it amazes me how much my life has changed.
Apparently, I’m on my own with Oliver, because Cameron’s gone back to eating.
“I’ll make you deal,” I tell Oliver. “I’ll go shopping with you as long as I’m spending my money and only buying what I need. And you’re shopping for yourself too
, or I’ll feel weird being the only one doing the buying.”
“Deal,” Oliver says easily.
I just gaze at him and shake my head. This was not how I envisioned my day beginning.
As soon as Oliver is finished eating, he runs upstairs to shower while I grab a quick breakfast. Then, we head out for the day with Cameron following us in the SUV.
Instead of going to the shops located downtown, Oliver insists we go to a shopping mall. I’m finding that Oliver is an extravert and seems to thrive on being around others.
The first stop we make is at a women’s department clothing store. I’d naturally assumed he’d stand back and watch me browse, but that’s not Oliver’s way. No matter what he does, he’s all in. He browses the racks along beside me and makes suggestions.
I tend to lean towards clothing that is comfortable and doesn’t draw attention. Oliver, on the other hand, pushes me towards clothing that is attractive but not too bold. His suggestions turn out to be appealing, so I pick a few of his selections along with some of my own and try them on. Oliver is patient as he waits in the store while I linger in the dressing rooms. When I’m finished, I walk out of the store with two bags, and Oliver looks happy but not gloating.
During the next few hours, Oliver buys a few video games, and when he realizes I don’t have an iPod, he talks me into buying one. When we pass by Victoria’s Secret, he brings me to a halt and urges me to go inside and look around.
I plant my feet on the ground and give him a look. “I can buy my own lingerie without you hovering.”
“I’ll go grab something to eat while you shop,” he offers.
I shake my head. “This store isn’t really my style.”
Oliver glances over his shoulder and scans the lingerie store before refocusing his attention back on me, eyes curious. “Why not?”
With a sigh of exasperation, I take his arm and pull him away from the store. “Let’s go, I could use some shoes,” I suggest, trying to redirect his attention elsewhere.
Thankfully, he drops the topic of lingerie, and after I buy a new pair of sandals, Oliver pauses outside a swimming apparel store. “Do you have a swimsuit?”
“I don’t need one. I can’t swim.”
Oliver stares at me with surprise. “You don’t know how?”
I shake my head.
Concern grows in his gaze. “You need to learn, E. The pool is nine feet, and if you fall in… You need a swimsuit,” he finishes, his tone firm.
It’s pointless arguing, because if I don’t go in and pick one myself, I know he’ll go buy one for me, and I’m certain it’d be a bikini.
My assumption was correct, because the second we step into the store, he tries leading me to the bikinis. I stay firm though and buy two, one-piece swimsuits.
When we’re finally finished shopping, we drop by the food court for lunch. I squeeze a packet of ketchup onto the corner of my burger wrapper so that I can dip my fries into it.
“How did you meet Knight?” Oliver asks.
I glance at him to see him reaching for his soda. I pick up a fry and dip it in the ketchup. “We met at a club,” I tell him, wanting to keep as close to the truth as possible.
He looks envious. “I’ve always wanted to go, but I think I’d probably be way in over my head.”
I smile. “I was wondering if you’d ever taken advantage of the age on Nathan’s license.”
“It’s tempting,” he confesses. “But I don’t have much…actually, I don’t have any experience with women,” he says in a dry tone. “Not only that, but what if I run into a woman that one of the others have been with?” His eyes shift to where Cameron is sitting at a table across the food court. “They wouldn’t let me anyway.”
It’s odd realizing that Oliver has no sexual experience, and yet his body has had plenty. I note he’s looking a bit melancholy, and it doesn’t mesh well with his personality. He’s very bright and optimistic, but sometimes reality weighs him down. I can’t even begin to understand what he’s feeling.
“Do you really think you can teach me how to swim?” I ask, deliberately switching the subject.
* * *
I gaze down at the water with uncertainty. We’d come back from shopping, and now Oliver is insisting on a swimming lesson. We’re out by the pool, but as I stand near the edge, I feel chilled to the bone. The memory of falling into the water and not being able to reach the surface still haunts me. The helplessness and fear I’d felt…
I shiver. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
Oliver is in the water, his hand on the ledge as he looks up at me. His hair is slightly spikey from the water, and his brown eyes are locked on mine. “I swear I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Another shiver runs over me even though the afternoon is quite muggy. “Last time didn’t go so well,” I tell him as I wrap my arms around my waist, hugging myself.
He frowns. “Last time?”
I grimace. “Blue knocked me in.”
“How did you get out?” he asks with concern.
“Nathan.”
Oliver gazes at me, eyes full of promise. “I won’t let you go under; I promise.”
As much as I don’t want to do this, I know it’d be wise to learn how to swim. Giving into his coaxing, I carefully sit down on the ledge and allow my feet to sink into the water. The water should feel nice and refreshing, but because of my fear from the incident with Blue, I simply feel frightened.
Oliver moves closer to me, his bare chest brushing against my knees. “I’ve got you, E.”
With great reluctance, I ease into the water, tensing as turn and clutch the ledge for dear life. Oliver eases next to me, his hand touching my waist as he treads the water beside me.
“Look at me,” he urges.
My eyes slide to him, not bothering to hide how unhappy I am over this. “I don’t know if I can do this,” I say honestly as my teeth chatter.
“You’re doing great,” he encourages.
“I’m not doing anything,” I point out.
He grins. “You’re not scrambling out of the water even though you’re deathly pale. That’s something.”
His hand brushes my side beneath the water, and I am very much aware of his tanned, muscular body so close to my own. His dark eyes betray that he’s aware of me too, but he focuses instead on teaching me how to tread water.
THIRTEEN
Nathan
It’s later than usual, and I sit up in bed as the last remnants of sleep quickly fade. Clothes are crumpled on the floor, and a can of soda is sitting on the dresser, probably leaving a watery ring behind. There’s only one person that never picks up after himself and tends to make a mess out of everything.
Oliver.
With a groan, I turn and check the date on the digital alarm clock on the nightstand. Two whole fucking days. Why the hell did Oliver…
Brick.
As much as I’m furious over losing more time, there are other things to worry about. Like Knight’s mess with the law and his night spent in jail. I recall trying to grasp the situation when Brick pushed his way out.
Damn it.
Usually after Brick is finished fucking up my life, Oliver surfaces to try to fix everything Brick demolished.
Today’s going to be a shit day.
Knowing I can’t put off the inevitable, I climb out of bed and clean up Oliver’s mess, or it’ll just wear on my nerves. I don’t like things left lying around when it can simply be put in its correct place.
After my shower, I exit the bedroom and head for the first floor. I’m just coming down the stairs when Griffin happens to be making his way up. Griffin studies me, no doubt sensing that he’s not looking at Oliver, and we both pause on the stairwell.
“It’s me, Nathan,” I say dryly.
He nods in greeting. “I thought maybe so. Breakfast first or a recap of the past forty-eight hours?”
“Give me the rundown,” I reply grimly.
We make our
way down the rest of the stairs and go into the office. I grab the office chair and move it away from the desk before dropping down onto it.
Griffin drags over the other chair and sits down across from me.
“I’m assuming the mess with Knight was sorted?” I question.
“Yes, it’s all been taken care of. William wants a word with you as soon as you’re available,” he casually informs.
I mutter a curse under my breath. My uncle is usually quite understanding unless my reputation becomes questionable or something could interfere with the company.
“Do you recall what was happening before Brick appeared?” Griffin asks cautiously.
His question brings a frown to my face. It had something to do with Elena. That’s right. I was struggling with the knowledge that she was a prostitute. I rub my brow, disappointed by the news. “Elena used to sell her body.”
Griffin nods, his eyes somber. “She was Brick’s target.”
Strangely enough, the knowledge has me tensing. I’m not quite sure how I feel about Elena or the fact she used to be a prostitute. However, no one deserves the poison Brick spews. “How bad?”
Griffin visibly winces. “Bad. Cameron tried to intervene, but Brick was very riled up. Elena wisely left the estate and didn’t come back until the next morning. By that time, Oliver was present.”
“I’m surprised she came back.”
“You and I both. Brick verbally attacked her, and yet she came back to face the damage,” he says admirably.
I think back on Elena’s demeanor. “She doesn’t act like a…”
“Prostitute,” Griffin finishes dryly. “Knight brought her here for a reason. Maybe focus on the why’s instead of the how’s.”
I shoot him a look.
Griffin just stares back at me. “Are you paying me to keep it real or cater to your ego?”
It’s too early for this shit. “I need a drink.”
“That’s a great way to lose more time and bring Knight to the surface. Go for it, I’m not stopping you,” he mocks.
I’m done with this conversation, and without another word, I rise to my feet.