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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 co
“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 i
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.