He nuzzled his head into my neck and dragged in a breath, moaning on exhale. “I missed you,” his throaty words and pillow-lips buzzed across my ear.
Ollie pinned me against his warm skin, and in no time, we drifted together.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Does it make me selfish that
I make you smile for my
own damn benefit?”
—Oliver Masters
ollie.
WHEN MIA’S BROWN EYES captured mine, time stood still, yet her smile pushed the clock to race against my unpredictable heart. The distance between us calculated in steps and the number of breaths I should have taken, but couldn’t. Thirty feet tall and worthy of her, my days had been spent focusing on fucking standing because at any given moment, my knees could cave and slam into the earth.
This. The hold Mia had. Every moment measured in the way she controlled time, determined distance, and had full possession of me. And the beauty of it all? She had no fucking clue. Or maybe she had, the reason she put me out of my misery with her lips.
I’m a fucking goner for life.
“What do you think?” Mia held up a literary rose, rolling the stem between her two fingers against her cheek with a proud smile. The twinkle in her eyes burned so brightly it was almost too painful to look directly in her light.
I swallowed and cleared my throat. “Perfect.”
Mia bounced out of the chair in the mess hall beside Zeke, strolled casually around the table, and curled into my lap. My fingers instantly found their way to the bare and warm skin beneath her shirt at her waist. “Two more months,” she whispered.
Two more months.
My hand moved up her thigh. I dropped my forehead to her shoulder and inhaled the fucking moment to keep her flowing in me far after we would separate.
Zeke pounded against the table. I tilted my head to see him without removing my head from her. He signed, Mia and Ollie, forever.
“Evermore,” I confirmed. Looking up, I caught her breathtaking smile and squeezed her thigh before returning my gaze to the old soul, appreciating the connection before him. The child inside him beamed back. He reminded me of myself at that age of fifteen, a helpless romantic, thriving on hope and belief. The Office, Friends, and even Romeo and Juliet, Zeke measured his days in the love that surrounded him. The reason for his progressions and will to wake up each morning.
“I have to go to my appointment,” Mia sighed, and her eyes dragged from the clock to me.
A full hour until I’d be back to get her. I wished following her around like a bodyguard wasn’t necessary, but it was. At least until we found the prankster, and even after that, I’d still probably be following her around.
My hour was spent making a phone call to Travis, swiping up the new pack of gum waiting for me by the phone, and grabbing a book from the library. Travis said they wanted more from me—more of me. I had nothing to give at the moment. The stress piled on top of each other. Between keeping Mia safe, keeping the outside world and the publisher happy, and battling my inner demons, breaking at any moment became my new reality. I was a saint who’d been stripped of his wings—my mortality in constant war against my soul. The rumble roared within, and each second away from her was scary as hell. She was my home.
Forty minutes.
I popped a new stick into my mouth to appease my sore jaw.
Deciding to go back to the dorm was the best option. Being around a crowd drained me of my sanity. Especially this crowd. Their emotions, their tensions, their anxieties, I felt it all. My body soaked it up, and if I didn’t have Mia to secure me, to hold me down, their fury slowly ate away the peace.
Fuck, it was the only way to describe it.
The only reason I hadn’t told her the details of my past was because she had far too much on her plate. I should have told her. She was the only one I could talk to. She was the only one who understood me and knew how to calm my nerves. But again, her plate was full with a side of obstacles.
Mia knew about Oscar and my mum. She knew the kind of life I lived, and I was confident when I disclosed the details of the things Oscar made me do, Mia would forgive me.
I’d stained my skin with the brotherhood tattoo. No matter how hard I tried to cover it up or hide it, it was always there. If I could rip off my arm and throw it to the wolves, I would. The brotherhood tattoo covered by scissors was a constant fucking reminder; Oscar would always be a part of me. No matter how long or often Mia swam inside, flowing through my veins, Oscar and I shared the same tainted blood.
I’d only drifted for what felt like half a second, and when I opened my eyes, Bria stood beside my bed staring down at me. Was I still dreaming?
Sitting up, I pinched the bridge of my nose and slowly blinked my eyes back to life.
She stood there, raven black hair, and porcelain skin.
“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice hoarse and groggy. I pumped my fist against my chest and cleared my throat. “Bria,” I tried again and shook my head awake, “You can’t be here.” Bria only smiled down at me and stood there in a top revealing her pale midriff and black thin, stretchy pants. She had no shoes on, and her eyes glazed over. “Are you all right?”
“I don’t feel so good,” she finally said, and plopped down on the bed beside me. “Jude broke up with me. He picked Tyler over me … Where’s Mia? I came to talk to Mia,” she fell back against the bed where Mia usually rested her head.
I inched my way to the back of the wall and pulled my knees up. “Mia’s with Conway,” I turned my gaze to the clock, “She’ll be back in thirty minutes.”
A tear rolled down Bria’s cheek, and she pulled her hands over her face. I’d never once seen Bria cry, especially over a bloke. “It’ll be okay,” I gripped her shoulder, “He’s a wanker, anyway.”
“You think so?” She sat up and wiped her arm across her eyes.
Quite frankly, no. I didn’t think Jude was a wanker, but I nodded anyway. She’d caught me off guard and I’d say anything to make her feel better and leave.
Jude suffered the death of his girlfriend, and by the look in his eyes, the love of his life. His actions were wrong, but I understood them.
Bria curled into my side, and I wrapped my arm around her.
“I miss hanging out with you.” Bria’s words muffled by my hoodie. “I feel like I never see you anymore. We never hang out. We used to be close. You used to be this badass without a care in the world. I missed that about you.”
“That wasn’t me.” That was the arsehole on meds, allowing the darkness to take control. Bria swung her leg over my lap and snaked her arms around me, tears flowing into my chest. I sat confused and frozen. “Come on,” I tried to pull her up, but she held on so tight, “Let’s take a walk, yeah? You can walk with me to get Mia.”
Bria shook her head. “I just need a hug, Ollie,” she cried. “You give the best hugs.”
My head spun, and all I could think about was Mia and how the hell I was supposed to get out of this mess. Keeping my hands at my sides, I looked up to the ceiling, waiting for her cries to dissipate, then Bria rolled her hips against me.
My knob jerked in my joggers, warning me.
I wanted to throw her off me, but the paralysis gripped every muscle and limb.
“Oh, Ollie,” Bria cried again, her bony hip grinding against me, and the sound of my name hit me like a punch to the brain.
The bathroom. It had been Bria crying out my name.
Another hip grind, and I looked down between us to see her wetness seep through the thin material of her pants. She had no knickers on. The flashback of my first time with Lacey ripped through me, digging out the caged beast raging inside with every utter of my name from Bria’s lips.
“Stop,” I warned through gritted teeth. “Fucking stop.”
One more fucking grind was all
it took, and I shoved her off the bed. Her back slammed against the floor, and she looked up, shocked and disoriented. “What the hell was that for?” Bria massaged the back of her head.
“I warned you. Don’t fucking come near me.”
“Is this about Mia?”
My brows raised and I bounced to my feet freeing myself of the sweats she ruined. “You’re impossible,” I swiped up a fresh pair of pants and shoved my legs through, “You tried taking advantage of me—again. Mia’s not here to tear your arse off me this time, but I have enough willpower to say no to fanny.” I shook my head, remembering the time Bria almost had her way with me last year after I’d stupidly drank too much.
“What do you mean again? You think that’s what happened? You think I tried taking advantage of you?” Bria laughed and looked around the room. “You remember, yeah? The long nights after Isaac, Alicia, and Maddie left, it was just you and me. We fucked, Ollie. You fucked me hard. You never said no to me before. What happened that night with Mia was only a misunderstanding.”
All the color drained from my face. “You and me,” I pointed my finger back and forth between us, “We never fucked.”
Bria laughed and looked me up and down. “Wow. Congratulations, Ollie,” Bria clapped her hands together, “You’re the most screwed up person at Dolor … ” Her words ran together thereafter as I stood in a fucking daze, trying to recall ever sticking it in her. “Don’t worry, I accept who you are, regardless of your erection problem. But we can fix that.”
With my contaminated joggers clutched in my fist, I took a step back, adding distance between us. “My dick was never the problem,” I shoved my hand through my hair and peered down at her, “I want you out by the time I come back.”
The entire way to Conway’s, I ransacked through every memory of the summer before Mia arrived. Regardless if it happened or not, it was a time before Mia. If it happened, Mia wouldn’t care. This wouldn’t bother her. We’d been through worse.
But there was no way I fucked her.
Was there?
Did I?
Bria got into my head, and I couldn’t piece that bloody summer together—couldn’t hear myself anymore. I’d been pissed or fucked up on pills half the time, then the other half spent in confinement. My pace quickened, and sweat rolled down my hairline. My eyes darted to every clock I’d walked passed.
Time—measured in the number of steps from my soul to hers, the number of words I’d have to get out before she had a chance to part her lips, and the seconds spent in silence that followed. She was too bloody far.
Five minutes.
I rounded the corner and collided with her.
“Ollie,” Mia breathed out and pulled away from me. Her hypnotizing eyes examined mine and drove around my features as her hands grabbed hold of my hoodie.
Oxygen rushed down my throat, and the fresh air filled my lungs. I could breathe. “I think I fucked Bria,” I blurted into the unnecessary space between us.
Mia’s brows raised and her muscles twitched in my hold. “You think?”
“She came in my room when I was sleeping, jumped my john, got her shit on my sweats … ” I shook my head, “She said we used to fuck.” Mia’s eyes widened, and nothing had been coming out right. “I think I need Conway.” I grabbed her hand and started for the doctor’s door.
“Whoa,” Mia yanked my arm, pulling me backward until my eyes were back on her. “You need to slow down,” her hand landed on my chest, and my eyes blinked rapidly, “Let’s go talk.”
“Dammit, Mia. Don’t you see? I’m going mad!”
Five.
Four.
Three …
Her fingers dipped beneath my hoodie, and her warm palm covered my chest and expanded throughout the rest of my body. Hitting me like a drag of nicotine, my muscles relaxed instantly. Amazing, really, my reaction to her. With closed eyes, my head dropped back, and I let out a steady breath against her subtle touch.
“I’m with you,” she said a notch above a whisper, and I could have sworn she was a sorceress because this was nothing short of magic. Pure fucking magic. The heaviness lifted, and I pulled my head back to face her as my heart matched the beat of the subtle pulse in her fingers.
“Mia,” I said in a gathered breath. “We need to talk. I can’t hold everything in any longer. At any moment, I’ll explode.”
It hadn’t taken long for Bria to poison our room. The rubbish smell. The thoughts. The cries still echoing from inside my brain to the concrete walls. I stripped the bed, bundled the sheets, and threw them right outside the door.
“Is all this really necessary?” Mia asked with her arms crossed. The heat of her stare followed my every move.
Yes, love. “I still feel her on my skin. I feel everything,” I turned to her, “You. You were everywhere. Now she is.” Refocusing on the task before me, I picked up the same pillow Bria laid her head across, “I hate it, Mia. I don’t like the way she makes me feel.”
The sound of the door closed, and I whipped my head back around to see Mia had left.
I pulled open the door and ran down the hall to catch up with her. “Where are you going?”
She turned to face me. Her brown hair fanned around her face, and a smile spread across her tender lips. “We need a little spring cleaning anyway. Come on,” she twirled back around. “Lucky for you, I know where the cleaning supplies are.”
An hour was spent drowning in bleach and the dirty confessions of my past. I told Mia about my time in the closet, the things I’d seen, losing my virginity, Oscar—everything. She took her anger out on the floors until I resumed the explanation of what happened with Bria.
Oscar had turned me into him, and for years I treated women like cattle. “You’re just as much a victim as they were,” she reminded me with a towel over her shoulder.
Another hour passed, and we propped the door open to air out the strong stench, the worries of my past blowing out into the hall along with it. Our deep conversation turned light, and smiles broke on both our faces. We joked, I tickled her, she used her towel like a whip on my arse, and Mia’s giggles didn’t let up while cleaning out my desk, going through every drawer and scrap paper I’d written across. She laughed lightly to herself as I pulled a new sheet over the mattress. “You’re high,” I said through a laugh and shook my head.
“On life,” she corrected, pointing at me with the spray bottle in one hand and my notebook in the other. A few people slowed as they crossed our room, sneaking a peek to see what we were up to. “This is too good to sit in a desk drawer,” she said, fingering through my notes. “Like, so good.” Her eyes peered up at me, and I sat over the mattress with a wide grin. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I did something.” Vague. I did a big thing, but I did it all for us. I published my work. I bought us a home. I’d become something of myself because of her constant reminder I wasn’t ordinary. I was someone. Her someone. Each moment with her stitched back on another feather of my wings, and once we’d leave Dolor, together we’d fly.
“Something other than having your ex-girlfriend rubbing her scent all over my fiancé?”
Hearing her refer to me as her fiancé touched my smile, heart, and knob. She knew better. “Ex” and “girlfriend” were never words tied to Bria’s name. “Your fiancé?” I asked teasingly, both of us knowing damn well everything I was, belonged to the girl staring back at me from the desk chair with my poetry in the palm of her hand, but the way she called me her fiancé sent me into a breathless puddle of mess.
“My fiancé,” she repeated matter-of-factly. The spray bottle and my journal left her hands before she stood and walked over to me. I leaned back on my elbows, and my eyes drifted over her every angle, twitching like a fiend to see where her next steps would lead her.
As long as it involved her on top of me, me on top of her, or us pinned
to one another, I’d be fucking cured of this craze swimming inside.
Mia stopped between my knees. Her finger rested under my chin as she tilted my head up to meet her eyes and my heart jumped into my throat. “I’m past the whole jealous part. Now? I’m just pissed,” Mia whispered.
“What are you going to do about it, love?” We were so close, all my senses filled with Mia, overpowering the bleach and the incident that happened hours before. Mia was all around me, dancing through me again, tickling every nerve, pumping every organ. My knob tensed with anticipation.
She dropped her hand, and my heart stopped. “Where are you going?”
My eyes landed on her cute little arse as she pulled the door closed, and my breathing labored as she pulled off the hoodie made for her. Mia’s smile illuminated the room, throwing the dullness of Dolor into color.
Her tiny fingers landed over my pants, sliding them down, and I lifted my bottom to allow her access. A gust of wind smacked against my stretched dick, begging to feel her warmth. Still, I stayed quiet as anticipation controlled my every breath.
“Dammit, Mia,” I moaned from my throat as she pushed her hands over my pelvic muscles. Pre-cum spilled unapologetically, and Mia traced her bottom lip over my tip. “Fuck, this is going to be embarrassingly quick.”
“Talk to me, Ollie,” Mia rasped out before wrapping her wet lips around me taking me slow.
I wanted to tell her that there were over two hundred thousand words in the English dictionary. Two hundred thousand. Easily, I strung words together in the journal with her in mind on a day to day basis, but not one word came close to the single utter of my name rolling off her tongue and how it swallowed me whole.
Even When I'm Gone (Stay With Me series Book 2) Page 31