“Fuck, you’re so sexy,” he said, and when he leaned in, I pulled away. “Sorry, I forgot. No kissing. Won’t happen again.”
I unbuttoned his jeans as he undid mine, trying to get the deed done and over with as soon as possible. He wouldn’t be able to get me off. It was a never-ending battle with me and countless partners. Reaching an orgasm with anyone was like my success of suicide—an utter and complete failure. (There’s a sentence I never thought I’d say). Perhaps you had to have feelings to get to that point, and if that was the case, I’d been cursed all along.
Liam pulled a condom from his back pocket before pushing his jeans and boxers down to his thighs. His eyes remained on my breasts as he ripped the foil packet between his teeth, then slipped the condom on, turned me around, and tried entering me to find I was dry.
“You’re going to have to help me out,” I said, wondering his limits. There were three kinds of men in this world. The type who would use lubricant, the type who used their fingers, and then there was my favorite kind—the kind who were more willing and eager to please me before their own needs by going down on me, which were few and far between.
Liam pushed me forward over the table and spread my legs with his knee before his fingers stroked my sex.
Rookie mistake.
My eyes closed to see tattoos, green eyes, and an alluring smile when finally, my body reacted. “You’re so wet,” Liam whispered as he pressed his finger inside me. My eyes stayed shut as moments with Ollie clouded every thought, taking me away from what was actually happening. I had to get past this.
Liam gripped my hips as he thrusted inside from behind. He moaned as his body relaxed against me, but shortly after, a need for more of me propelled him into madness. “You feel so good,” he grunted, and I ignored each comment he made thereafter. I’d heard them all before. You feel so good. You’re so tight. You’re so sexy. None of the comments ever did anything for me. I wanted silence.
Liam liked it hard and fast and grunted with each pump as I pretended to enjoy it for his sake. It was better for the both of us. The sooner he got off, the sooner this would be over, and after about four minutes of mental misery, it was.
He pulled out and rested his hands over the table as guilt immediately invaded me. “That was good, yeah?” His breath struggled to catch up. I pushed off the table and gathered my clothes from around us. “Hey, where you off to in such a hurry?”
I grabbed my bra off the floor and put it on as my eyes searched for my shirt in the dark. “I need to get some coursework done.” Shower. I need to shower.
“You’re such a bloke, Mia. Usually, I’m the one bolting after situations like this. Kind of hurts my feelings.”
I pulled the shirt over my head. “You’ll survive.” And I left him alone in the dark room with his pants still pulled down to his thighs.
If I had a dollar for every time I’d put myself in those situations—okay, maybe not a dollar, more like a hundred-dollar bill—then I would have been rich. Sex didn’t mean anything to me, but for some reason, sex with Liam conceived a guilt only growing larger with each step back to my dorm.
With a new pair of shorts and a random shirt in hand, I reached the shower, and the shame and remorse of what I’d done completely took me over. I cursed at myself under the running warm water as it attempted to wash away my crime, but no matter how long I stayed under the faucet, the guilt of my sin would not dissipate.
When I exited the shower, I trashed my panties, the only evidence left of the mistake with Liam. Never again.
“I did something stupid.” I shook my head as if it could erase what had happened, and glanced back up at Zeke, who stared back with a blank face. “I had sex with Liam.”
Zeke’s young features didn’t change, so I continued, “Before, I only put myself in those situations thinking it would switch me back to normal, and even afterward when it didn’t work, it still didn’t bother me. But now I’m bothered. Shit. I don’t know what I’m trying to say. You understand what I’m trying to say?” Though there were more muscles in the human face than in the rest of the body, Zeke hadn’t moved a single one of them.
I twisted my neck to look behind me, and saw Liam observing me from across the room. He pulled his stupid lip between his teeth, and my stomach twisted into knots as I forced down bile threatening to come up. “Dear Lord, what was I thinking? Here”—I pushed my dinner tray in front of Zeke—”I lost my appetite. You can have my cookie if you want.”
Zeke stared at me from across the table, unmoving.
“Why are men so predictable? For once, can someone surprise me? Like you, for instance.” I leaned back in the chair. “Yes, you don’t talk, and I know no matter what I say, you’ll sit there and stare at me with those big brown eyes of yours. That much is predictable.” I let out a small laugh. “But I still have no idea what’s going through your head right now, and I like that about you.”
After folding my arms over the table, I laid my head down and found Ollie through the chaos. Ollie tilted his head until his eyes met mine. “Is it strange I pretended he was Ollie the whole time to get through it? I wonder what it would be like with Ollie, but we can never. He will be the one to destroy me, Zeke. I can feel it with him. I still can’t believe he kissed me in my room, then had the audacity to walk right out afterward. That I wasn’t expecting. Do you think he’s waiting for me to talk to him about it?”
I lifted my head to see Zeke eating my cookie, and I flashed him a lopsided grin. “Whoa, take it easy there, slugger. With all this movement, you might break something.”
Chapter Ten
“Don’t waste ink on girls who are oblivious of their beauty.
Write about the ones who know, but choose to ignore it.”
—Oliver Masters
THE NEXT MORNING, I found a paper slipped under my door. It read, skip breakfast & meet me in room 23 @ 8. The handwriting was in script with no indication as to who it was from. It was fifteen minutes ‘til, and it only took me half a second to decide my need to know who it was from trumped the option of ignoring it. I grabbed my weekend clothes consisting of shorts, Converse shoes, a plain gray tee with a deep V-neck, and a hoodie. My entire wardrobe consisted of whites, grays, and blacks, without a pop of color. Everything went with everything.
After my shower, I left my hair down to air dry. The ends hit just above my chest and had already grown half an inch since I’d been here. It looked darker than usual, but then again, I hadn’t been under the sun in over a month. I’d forgotten what the sun felt like against my skin, and wondered when I would feel it again—if this place didn’t kill me first. Any opportunity we had to go outside, the sun was either hidden behind gray clouds, or it was raining.
Room twenty-three was on the first floor. My shoes made no sound against the marble stairs as I stepped down, praying it wasn’t Liam waiting for me. After a sharp right-hand turn down a long hallway, my stride slowed when I spotted Ollie leaning against the wall with his foot propped, waiting for me at the end with a brown bag and two cups in hand.
Involuntarily, my body paused to take in the sight of him—and to breathe as if I couldn’t seem to do it all at once.
When his eyes met mine, a sleepy but charming smile appeared. The sun’s rays streamed through the windows as if the sun waited on his damn smile, and he dropped his head to hide his satisfaction. He styled his thick hair into its usual backward wave, and small pieces stuck out over his ears. He looked back up at me with a striking grin, and my pace picked up to get to him already—to get to the boy who’d made me punch a damn cement wall because, well, for once, I was ready to admit he’d gotten to me. And I’d never seen it coming.
“You’re late,” he said as I approached, and he handed over a drink. “I understand you Americans prefer your coffee over tea. I hope it’s how you like it.” By immediately taking a sip, I was able to both calm my nerves a
nd conceal my smile. The coffee melted in my mouth and a small moan escaped my throat, and he flashed me a grin. “I honestly didn’t think you’d show.”
“Me neither.” Behind him was a tall wooden door arched into a half circle at the top. It looked misplaced, as if it didn’t belong. Everything else was like me, cold and without personality. But the door was warm and filled with history and character. “What’s this?”
Ollie took a side step and pointed to the sign reading LIBRARY room 23. “Come on, we’re just eating here, but this place is really cool. I think you’ll like it.”
The door creaked open as I stepped inside, and it wasn’t anything like I had expected. A small unattended desk stood in the middle of the floor, holding up a computer monitor belonging in the early ‘90s. Papers and books scattered across the old wooden desk, and I turned to Ollie behind me.
“No one is here on Saturday mornings. We have the whole place to ourselves.” He walked past me and behind the desk, where the room split into several options to walk through, and said, “Come on, follow me.”
Ollie led me down an aisle not nearly wide enough for two people to stand side by side. Each row was narrow and stacked from floor to ceiling with books. The library had a sweet but musky smell like chocolate mixed with paper.
Ollie made a sharp left, which opened up another ten different possibilities to turn. Each row was narrower than the last, but Ollie swiftly moved as if he knew where to go. Unable to tell my left from my right, or up from down, corridors and passageways split in all directions, interwoven to create a dream world surrounded by literature. Books stacked every inch, and my eyes darted around as Ollie led me through the web until we finally reached our destination.
A hidden small round nook spiraled in color-coordinated books to the ceiling. Spotlights bounced off the circular walls and onto the floor, and I looked up to see a skylight. Ollie took a seat on the floor and patted the space beside him for me to sit before he opened the bag.
“Where did you get all this?” I asked when he handed me a croissant.
He took a sip of his drink and closed his eyes as if he’d been waiting to get to his spot to enjoy something as simple as the first sip. His eyes didn’t open again until he swallowed it down, but when they did, he caught me in awe of him. “It’s the little things, Mia.” We shared a smile before he finally answered my original question. “I can’t tell you all my secrets. Plus, if I told you, you wouldn’t need me anymore.”
My teeth sunk into the croissant, and it was the perfect amount of crispy flakiness on the outside and buttery fluff on the inside. “You bring me croissants every Saturday, and I’ll gladly bear your children.”
Ollie turned his head to face me and the lump in his throat moved. “I’m holding you to that.” He grinned to lighten the seriousness in his tone, and I quickly averted my eyes from his to our surroundings.
“It’s like a maze in here, though. How do you not get lost?”
He swallowed the food in his mouth before saying, “Oh, I do. One time it took me an hour to find the entrance, but no matter how long or far I stray, I always find my way back. I’m usually here every Saturday morning. Eating in the mess hall every day with the same people can get old after a while. You have to break it up to keep your sanity.” He pulled his knees up and rested his arms over them. “Again … the little things.”
After popping the rest of the croissant into my mouth, I took a sip of my coffee and stood to my feet. Ollie looked up at me with an open mouth and curious eyes. “And where do you think you’re running off to?”
“We’re going to play a game,” I said, and a smile crept along his lips. “You find me first, and I’ll give you an answer—
“An answer to what?”
“Whatever one question you want to ask me, but”—I held up a finger—”if I can get to you first, you have to tell me why you’re here.”
He dropped the last piece of his donut in his mouth, and with a mouthful, he said, “Alright, let’s do this.” He dusted off his hands and stood.
Slowly, I backed away from him. “You stay here, count to sixty while I try to get lost.”
Ollie took a step forward and I took another step back.
An assertive smirk played on his lips. “Don’t leave this library, Mia. If I spend hours searching for you like a fool to find out you left …”
I rested my hands on my hips and returned the same smile. “What are you going to do?”
Ollie’s gaze dropped to the floor as he shook his head lightly, hiding his smile. He ran his hand through his hair as he turned his back to me. “I’m not counting out loud, love. You better get going.” He placed his palms against the circular book case and leaned over.
I watched him, admiring the way his shoulder blades moved beneath his shirt; then my eyes skimmed down his torso and landed on his cute butt.
“I know you’re checking me out.” He laughed.
My cheeks warmed and I took off in the opposite direction, trying to lose myself in the maze. After about a minute passed, my voice danced across the bindings of numerous books as I slowed to a walk through a passageway and down another aisle, “Come find me, Ollie.”
I continued in front of me, hoping I’d reach a dead end, but I didn’t. Every angle, every aisle had me more turned around than before, and after ten minutes passed, I found myself in the Romance section, plucking books off the shelf and analyzing their covers.
Each cover looked similar in a lot of ways. Either a man and woman holding hands, or hugging, or kissing, all showing affection toward one another, but it was all a lie. I didn’t see it in their eyes or smiles because none of it was real. False advertisement, if you ask me. Book covers should only reveal the title, author, and short description. They say you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, but everyone always did.
A pair of hands brushed the surface of my arms, and the warmth of Ollie’s body behind me made me smile. “Looks like I get to ask you a question.” His breath heated my neck.
Fingertips traveled down the lengths of my arms until they found mine. The only sound was the beating in my ears, and I fought to keep my body from sinking into him.
Ollie had to have felt the same force because it was him who surrendered the distance between us, pressing his body against mine from behind. He moved my hair off my shoulder to the other side.
“One question.” I managed to gather the two words as his struggling breath entangled in my hair.
“This isn’t fair. There is so much I want to know.” He laced his fingers into mine as he dipped his head down to my ear. “I want to know how you like your coffee, and what your favorite song is. I want to know what annoys you, and the worst thing you’ve ever done. I want to know your greatest fear, and whether or not you talk in your sleep. If you prefer chocolate over vanilla, and if you cried watching The Notebook … if you’ve ever seen The Notebook, or like movies at all. What gives you the greatest high, and what can take all the pain away …” Ollie drew in a deep breath, and at the same time, my heart skipped in my chest. “But what I need to know is … are you willing to open yourself up to me so I can find out?”
“Is that your question?” I stammered, lost in all his words.
“Yes.” He exhaled. “That’s my final question.”
Turning to face him, his eyes filled with hope and wonder, but his absent smile expected the inescapable truth. We both knew there wasn’t anything inside me to open up, an empty shell. So, what exactly did I have to lose?
And, so, it was there, in the middle of the romance section of the maze-like library at Dolor University outside of Guildford in the United Kingdom where I decided I was willing to show him I was nothing more than a hollow soul. “I will only disappoint you.”
“I doubt it.”
“And I’m difficult,” I warned.
“Good.” Ollie grinned. “I was
n’t expecting anything less, Mia. I’m only asking you to knock down a wall. Not even a wall—fuck, carve me out a door. I only want to know you.” He grabbed my hand, and a calmness washed over me.
I didn’t have the tools to destroy a wall, let alone carve out a door. The barriers had endured ten years. Tough and sturdy and placed for a reason. Each one had a purpose, and even though I’d forgotten why they stood there in the first place, I was scared what would happen if I started carving out holes. The walls became my friends—they were safe. But I nodded, anyway, because the small glimmer of hope in his eyes spread like an infection.
“And to clarify, no, I’ve never seen The Notebook, and I don’t plan on it, either.”
Ollie threw his head back and a raspy laugh echoed in our maze.
A laugh I had quickly grown to adore.
We lost track of time as we lay across the floor with our heads side by side and our feet in opposite directions, staring up at the tower of books as if they were stars. The multi-colored binders scattered in no particular pattern.
If I concentrated hard enough, I could make out different shapes. If I stared long enough without blinking, it looked as if the colors slowly moved. All I had to do was close my eyes for three seconds, and when I opened them again, my palette refreshed under a new set of eyes.
“What is on your mind this very moment?” Ollie asked as he pulled a hand behind his head.
I smiled. “All the words floating around in this room. It’s crazy to think we’re lying here in a library, surrounded by stories that have gone through people’s heads first. This aisle alone is completely made up of characters and worlds that have been thought of first, and now exist.” I lifted my hand above our heads and gestured around us in amazement. “All around us are moments of death, tragedy, first kisses, last kisses, moments of weaknesses, intimacy, and tears cried … and I can’t help but think I will never be able to know or possibly understand any of those feelings.”
Stay With Me (Stay With Me Series Book 1) Page 12