After over a decade, the wait was over as my fingers danced along the keys to an acoustic version of Demi Lovato’s “Sorry not Sorry.” I didn’t know what had come over me, but suddenly, I was humming the tune, and the hum turned into a song, and then I was singing the chorus as the room went up in a roar. My eyes closed as I lost myself in the music I made, forgetting how good it all felt. My voice seemed foreign but still the same as my eight-year-old self. More mature, more powerful, but still held the natural gravelly sound I had perfected at a young age.
After the last key lingered in the air, I let out an exhale and glanced over the piano. Ollie hung his head between his shoulders as he slowly shook it back in forth while the rest of the room cheered. I retook my seat and the circle’s chatter died down, but Ollie stood and walked out without a single word in his wake.
Did he deserve that?
No.
Despite my returned numbing state he had previously stolen from me, Ollie was everything I wasn’t. He was light in the darkest moments, he was belief when no one else could see, and he was the indication of hope as walls etched with doubt caved around him. But I embodied truth, and the truth was—I could never change. And if I’d let him continue down this path, he would have eventually suffocated under my truth as he attempted to free a cursed soul.
Believe it or not, Ollie, I did that for you.
After group therapy was dismissed, Arty kept me behind to talk about what happened and made me promise never to act out again. Of course, I obliged, telling him whatever he wanted to hear. No, sir. Nod. Yes, sir. Nod. And out the door I went.
My pace slowed before I reached the corner of my wing. My stomach drifted, my mouth went dry, my breath caught, and I instantly knew. It always happened whenever I sensed Ollie near. My body deceived me when my mind couldn’t. Leaning against the wall beside my door was the boy whose heart I had ripped out moments before.
It was still beating in the palm of my hand.
“It’s best you stay away from me,” I insisted as I drew nearer. Ollie looked up from the floor and removed his hands from his pockets. His beanie was pulled down lower over his forehead, and red rings circled his eyes. “And you look like shit,” I added, knocking him while he was already down.
“Why are you doing this?” he asked, following me into my room.
“Oh.” I dropped my books over my desk and turned to face him. “You mean me fucking Liam? I figured it’s only fair for you to know what kind of person I am. Liam is not even half of what I’ve done.” It was best for him to know everything.
He folded his fingers together over the top of his beanie as he looked into my cold and distant features. “For once in your life, Mia, can you stop pushing me away and be honest with yourself for five minutes?” he asked, and I paused mid-pace, “I know what kind of person you are, and this isn’t you,” Ollie dropped his hands and took a step toward me, “I know you feel something with me because if you didn’t, you wouldn’t have punched a bloody wall. I see it in your eyes, Mia.”
“Stop! I don’t feel!” I shouted and took a step away from him before pacing the room again. “Whatever you think is happening is all in your head.”
Suddenly, Ollie picked me up at the waist and set on top of my desk, gripping the edges as his frustrated eyes searched mine. “You’re a fucking liar.”
He looked down and grabbed my hand from my lap, wrapping his fingers around my wrist. “Your pulse is racing, Mia, and I know what it’s like because mine does the same damn thing when I’m around you. And when I look into your eyes, I can see my Mia is in there. The girl who pretends not to care, but her heart is relentless. The girl who kisses me unapologetically, watches me read, laughs into my neck, and has a genuine fucking smile when I’m beside her. My Mia.”
I forgot what had happened altogether. I forgot what had put us here, in this position. I forgot why Ollie was upset and only wanted to see him smile again. But he took advantage of my faltered mind and continued.
“Distance isn’t good for us. Only two days in confinement and I already lost you, but you will come back because you always do with me.” He dropped his head before wiping his face against his sleeve. “Fuck. I don’t care what you did. You weren’t right before the weekend, but I know you’re right with me. You have to break through, and it’s going to hurt, and it’s going to be painful, but you have to because I’m fucking selfish and I want you.” He shook his head. “No, I need you.”
Ollie brought his hands to my face. His nose grazed mine as he breathed me in. “I need you to feel for me, and once you do, I need you to stay.”
And then my lips were on his as I silenced him and he stole my breath all at once. He was my weakness and my strength—the life and the death of me. He gave and took with each caress of his tongue, unwilling to ease up as the desire between us only heightened. “I’m so sorry, Ollie,” I whispered between moments of mourning without his lips on mine. He shook his head and stole my breath once again. His mouth grasped mine as if it were the lighthouse in the middle of a storm. His eyes shut tighter while he kissed me more firmly, his tongue’s gentle rhythm sending his hips deeper between my legs. And when my hand fell over the waistband of his jeans, he pulled away.
“Please don’t do this to me …” He breathed heavily. “I don’t have the strength anymore.”
“Have me.” My words quickly rolled off my tongue.
Ollie only shook his head.
I wrapped my fingers around his chin and forced him to see me like he had done to me so many times before. “Right now, I’m yours. I never wanted anyone else, Ollie. I have only and always wanted you. I’m all in; whatever’s left of me, is in with you. Please, don’t reject me again. I can’t handle it.”
It only took Ollie a few beats to battle it out with himself. He slammed his palms over the desk before pushing off it. I held my breath. Don’t you dare leave me like this, I wanted to say. But my words were caught, lost somewhere between my brain and tongue.
He walked toward the door.
Paralyzed, my non-existent heart was already breaking, mourning the loss of this moment that would never happen.
Everything had stopped. My breathing. My brain. The pumping of my heart. Ollie.
The sound of my door locking echoed.
My heart thumped.
He turned to face me.
My heart thumped.
His powerless eyes filled with lifetimes of longing—longing for me.
My heart thumped.
And Ollie withdrew his white tee, exposing tattoos along his ribcage, chest, and lean abs. In two long strides, he stood before me again, picking me up off the desk effortlessly and laying me across the mattress. He slowly pinned my hands above me as he covered my mouth with his.
I could breathe again.
“I’m not going to fuck you, Mia,” he said slowly, his nose grazing mine as the mint bounced off his mouth. Before I had a chance to question him, his tongue slipped between my lips and our impatient kiss spiraled. We were on fire as a familiar spark went off inside me. My lips trembled against his as his fingers traveled down to the button on my jeans. Ollie had the ability to break me, and I knew it the moment my eyes fell on him.
He hesitantly pulled away and stood over me with one knee between my legs and his other foot planted on the floor. “Are you on birth control?”
I nodded. “And I never have sex without a condom … I have a box in my suitcase.”
Ollie looked over to my suitcase and back at me. “You always use a condom? Not even one slip-up?”
I nodded and shook my head, unable to contain the buzz of him. “Never slipped.”
“Then I’m not making love to you with a fucking condom on.” An ache and adoration mixed in his eyes, and his voice held a promise. “It’s all or nothing, Mia.”
“Okay,” I whispered, and lifted my shirt over
my head, dropping it to the floor beside me.
His eyes praised me before his lips did, and his warm hands reached behind me to unlatch my bra, freeing my breasts. Ollie guided my arms above my head before his fingers inched their way down the length of them, past my breast and at my sides. My nipples hardened instantaneously under his warmth. Gasping, my body buckled under his wet lips as they trailed along my collarbone and down the middle of my chest.
Ollie took his time, and his nose brushed my stomach as his lips left impressions over my skin. My impatient hips moved beneath him as he undid my button and zipper.
“The feeling you have right now—I need you to hold on to it for as long as possible. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”
“I think so,” I breathed.
Ollie paused and dropped his hands on each side of me. “The moment you start slipping away, and you don’t feel anything anymore, I can see the change in your eyes. They turn hollow. All I’m asking is for you to stay with me for as long as you can. When you notice your damn switch turning back on, remember this moment. Remember me and the way I make you feel, alright?”
“Yes, Ollie,” I said eagerly.
He removed my boots and peeled off my jeans as I lay there in anticipation, watching him adore every inch of me. Soft lips trailed along my hipbone and over my panties. He rested his chin over my lower stomach and looked up to me. His two emerald gems sparkled, asking for consent in silence.
I nodded, and his mouth moved to my inner thigh and my insides illuminated. He bent my knees and ran his fingertips down the backs of my thighs. Hooking the strings of my panties, he stripped them off with ease.
Ollie pulled my knees apart, and his hands massaged the insides of my thighs as his eyes fell over my sex, then my stomach, then my breasts, and then my face, taking in all of me.
I was already his and whatever he wanted.
His slave. His savior. His anchor.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispered from his throat.
I shook my head. “No talking.”
His eyes drifted up and down before they met mine again. “I don’t think you understand, love. I’m talking, and I’m saying you are fucking beautiful.” His gaze roamed down to my sex again before he drowned in weakness. “All of you.” Before I could detest his verbal abuse, Ollie lowered his head. The heat of his breath landed on me before his warm, wet tongue stroked my center from bottom to top.
Oh, my god …
My head fell back and my hips instantly reacted against his fever. He pulled away only to spread me wide before his mouth consumed me entirely. I screwed my eyes shut, broken moans escaping me, and my fists found his hair as a wave built up inside me, his skillful tongue sweeping me into another dimension. He pushed my thighs wider as his green eyes soaked me in with each precise strike.
Ollie swiped across my heat once more before his lips covered my knot of nerves, sucking tenderly, and the tingle in my core flared, spreading of an electric forest fire.
It was happening. Ollie pressed his finger against my entrance, making slow circles to the same tempo as his torturous tongue. My hips moved against the feelings I’d never felt before. A storm inside sent waves crashing over and over on top of the inferno. The fire and ice.
Then he dipped his finger inside, and I ignited all over again. Each steady graze of his graceful finger went deeper and deeper, catering to every need, touching places that desired him. I bit my lip to stifle a cry as my legs shook under his grasp.
“Ollie,” I urged in a whimper. I couldn’t hold on any longer, or I couldn’t hold on again. I couldn’t distinguish between where one ended, and another began. My orgasms all blurred together. He pulled away from me too soon and quickly ripped off his jeans and boxers without taking his eyes off me.
Then he was stripped bare, standing before me as if he was offering himself to me, giving me a piece of him he knew he could never take back.
He was beautiful.
He crawled up my pining body until his mouth met mine, his lips more tender and sensuous with each kiss. He kissed me slowly again and again as his rock-hard arousal pressed against my wetness.
He held our kiss as he eased himself inside, inch by inch, driving me to whimpers as he filled me. Our once-intense kiss weakened at the feeling of our connection, and his head fell into the curve of my neck. “Holy hell … Mia … I need a second …” he breathlessly said, and whatever remaining walls I had shattered into a million pieces, the flood gates opened, and Ollie and I were bound together by something more profound than the both of us could have imagined. I gripped his silky, thick hair to bring him back to me, and when his mouth covered mine again, we were gone.
“Mia, look at me,” he demanded as his gentle thumb swept across my glistening forehead. My eyelids parted to meet green trusting as he pumped into me again and again and again. The only thing keeping him up was his elbow digging into the mattress beside me, but even his elbow trembled.
He ran his thumb across my bottom lip before he kissed me again. The perfect length of him stroked me, and I felt every sensation, every thrust, as he slid against my walls. Every flexed muscle of his moved beneath my wild fingers.
His free hand moved to my breast, to my waist, to my … oh …
He made slow, gentle circles over my clit, sending me over the edge as his elbow kept the tremor in my leg steady. I swiped his hair off his sweaty forehead as his pumps grew closer together, making me moan. I dug my nails into the muscles of his back as a surge accelerated, and my name fell from his lips in a plea. “Mia … I’m about to … Let go, and come with me.” He gripped my bottom as he took me deeper, touching places needing him with a slow, nerve-detonating grind.
Suddenly, every blood vessel, every molecule inside me burst, sending a thousand stars into a midnight sky behind my eyes as I reached a peak of pure euphoria. My legs clenched around Ollie’s waist as my entire body tensed in hysteria. The pleasure motivated my cries before Ollie silenced me with his lips, swallowing my testimony away as he chased the same holy feeling.
Chapter Thirteen
“Some search
their entire lives
for this single moment.
Don’t blink, my love.
We’re finally here.”
—Oliver Masters
LIFE CONSISTS OF tiny moments—moments that define you, moments that shape you, moments that lead you down a path of reflection, self-discovery, and purpose. These heartbeats of moments are collections of who you are and who you are meant to be—little moments. And we only remember the ones that have impacted our souls.
Until now, I had genuinely believed my soul had left me a long time ago. I would never forget this moment that made me realize it had never really been gone, only locked away behind trauma, lies, and utter denial. I’d stomped on my past, forcing it into obscurity. If I believed it had never happened, it hadn’t. I’d hid behind my denial for so long, my past became nonexistent.
My reflection burned in his emotion-filled eyes as his inked and sweaty body trembled to hold himself up after his release. In this pivotal moment, he unconsciously reminded me my soul was still there, begging for redemption as he silently pleaded for reciprocation—pleading for me to remember. To confront the demons of my past, and the same trauma I never could as a child. It would be then, and only then, he could have me completely. He knew this. I knew this. After all, with him was where my soul belonged.
But I handled the situation the only way I knew how.
I rejected it.
Because no matter how deep our connection was, and no matter the strength of our bond, nothing would ever be enough. No one could break the already broken. My mind and heart existed on two different playing fields. My worthless heart was the slave while my mind was the master.
Fear was the biggest culprit, lurking in the shadows outside the walls tha
t rebuilt in a matter of seconds. It was Guilt who took over my senses, and it was Anger who controlled my body and drove out my soul. While my barriers were down, it was these three demons that haunted me whenever I was alone. And eventually, I would be alone again. It was inevitable.
So, up the walls went like clockwork. My subconscious was my shield, having complete control. I tried to hold on—with every fiber of my being—to the rapture we had created together, but the master of my heart ultimately won. The rage formed by my three demons took over, drowning out any remaining chance of my heart staying with him.
Ollie noticed the shift in my eyes immediately.
“No, Mia.” He shook his head. “Fuck. Stay with me.” He cupped my face in his hands, but I pushed him off me. My rage escalated, and it was too late. My feet found the floor as I searched for my clothes.
“Bloody hell, slow down and come here,” Ollie whisper-shouted as he brought the sheet around him and sat over the edge of the bed, confusion clear across his face. Ignoring him, I slipped my jeans back on and threw a random shirt over my head. Unable to sit still, I paced the dorm, my head shaking the moment away.
“Please, you have to talk to me,” Ollie pressed as he got into his pants. I glanced over at him, and despair struck in his green eyes.
My feet took long steps toward him, and I pushed him once in the chest. “What the hell was that?” I hit him again. He became my anger. He became my muse. He became everything hiding inside me, and he was the one to bring it all out—and I hated him. With a passion, I hated him. My arms flung at him as I screamed out. “What did you do to me?!”
Ollie gripped my flailing arms and turned me around to pin my back against his long torso. “I fucking hate you!” I screamed, and Ollie placed his hand over my mouth to silence me.
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