“Trust me, it was the best decision for both of us.” I sl*p my phone into my pocket, and with keys in hand, I head down her hallway. She follows, and when I reach the door, I turn toward her.
She leans against the wall, one foot propped up against it, and tilts her head to the side, waiting for my next move.
I want it to be me p**ssing her into that wall and taking advantage of her mouth. I want her hands all over me.
But not just that. I want to continue to feel her comfort. Last night, I felt so vulnerable, and she ignored her pain and helped me with mine. She didn’t hold anything against me, something Sarah would have done when we were together. She forgave me and my stupidity, then asked me to stay—not for her, but for me—because she didn’t want me to be alone.
It’s made me look at her differently.
It’s made me want her in a different way.
It’s made me consider what it could be like if we took a step forward.
And that’s terrifying because I don’t think I’m ready. I don’t think I’m prepared to be there for her the way she needs it. I don’t think I can be the man she needs. It’s why I need to control myself around her and tread carefully.
It’s why, at this moment, with her looking so goddamn beautiful, I can’t take what I want.
So I move in close to her, snag my index fi**ger under her chin, and say, “Thank you for last night.”
“No need to thank me, Silas. That’s why I’m here.”
“Still . . . thank you.” And then I lower my head. I hear her slight intake of breath right before I k**s her cheek and then push away, keeping my hands at my side so I don’t happen to reach out and do something I’d regret later. “Have a good day, Oliana.”
Her head rests against the wall as she says, “See you, Potato.”
* * *
Ollie: How was the film time?
Silas: The film time? Is that the technical term?
Ollie: In my head it is.
Silas: It was good. Have a headache from watching so many yesterday. But I feel prepared.
Ollie: Did you take any pain relievers?
Silas: Yes, Mom.
Ollie: And here I thought I called you Daddy.
Silas: You just made me spit water all over my shirt.
Ollie: Then my work here is done.
Silas: What are you up to?
Ollie: Working on a stupid paper, going to take a break soon.
Silas: Cool.
Ollie: You know, this is the point in the conversation where you would realize that I’m going to be free soon and you’re free, so then maybe we can hang out.
Silas: Don’t think that’s a good idea.
Ollie: Afraid you might fall madly in love with me?
Silas: Afraid I might want to f**k you.
Ollie: Once again, not a bad feeling to have.
Silas: We have a no whorehouse policy.
Ollie: Good answer. I was testing you.
Silas: Oh, were you now?
Ollie: Yup. You passed.
Silas: Now I can say I truly accomplished something this weekend.
Ollie: You’re welcome.
* * *
Ollie: Excuse me, Potato, what is the meaning of this package you sent me?
Silas: What are you talking about?
Ollie: Don’t play dumb. I know you dropped this package off at my dorm. There’s a weighted blanket inside, along with a fancy coffee maker and the fixings to make a latte . . . with an Agitators mug.
Silas: Oh yeah, that might have been from me.
Ollie: Why did you send this all to me?
Silas: Because you said it was getting drafty in your dorm. Thought you might need something to keep you warm . . . while I’m gone.
Ollie: Okay . . . okay . . . hold up . . . Silas Taters, you realize that’s flirting, right? You’re straight up flirting with me.
Silas: I call it being a good friend.
Ollie: I call it you want me bad, and even though you won’t admit it, you’re showing me with this thoughtful gift.
Silas: Perceive it how you want.
Ollie: I will. You want me.
Silas: Sure, if that’s what you want to believe.
Ollie: It’s not whether or not I believe it, Silas. I f**king know it. Also . . . thank you so much. This was really sweet. I can already feel how warm the blanket is. If only it smelled like you.
Silas: See, that would be flirting.
Ollie: Uh-huh . . . okay.
* * *
Ollie: Weird, I came home to another package. But this was just a bottle of cologne.
Silas: Huh, wonder who sent that to you.
Ollie: I wonder. It actually smells just like you.
Silas: Super weird.
Ollie: You realize this changes everything.
Silas: You realize everything has already changed.
Ollie: Why are you holding out on me?
Silas: It’s for the best.
Ollie: Then why send me gifts?
Silas: Just because we aren’t together doesn’t mean I don’t want you not thinking about me.
Ollie: This is all kinds of messed up.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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