AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It’s almost scary how similar they look. Same eyes and nose. Different colored hair, though. Marc has dirty-blond hair compared to Oliver’s chestnut locks.
“I was more into skateboarding and skipping class than football in school.”
“Oliver, don’t give your brother any ideas.” Oliver’s mom, Krista, walks over to me, taking a seat in the porch lounge chair on my right. “Have I told you how happy I am that Oliver found himself a girlfriend, especially one as pretty as you?”
“You’ve mentioned it once or twice,” I say through a forced smile.
This is the woman who left Oliver to fend for himself for ten years. I still remember the nights Oliver talked about her like he didn’t want to admit how much he missed her.
The sound of his sobs is still fresh in my mind.
I glance over at Oliver, now showing Marc some pictures on his phone.
Unease burns up my throat like acid. Oliver told me that if I felt uncomfortable at any point, he would take me back. I don’t like being here. It makes me feel like I’m in the lion’s den, waiting to be attacked. I want to run away.
I’ve fought that urge at least three times already. The knowledge that Oliver would drop everything, even spending time with his little brother, causes my head to spin.
Each time my emotions almost bubbled over the surface, Oliver would place his hand on my thigh, and the simmering would stop.
Oliver is a good person and son, and his parents don’t deserve him. I don’t deserve him either. Not with the way I will hurt him.
I’m pretty much set on selling the house. Talking to Richie today pretty much confirmed it.
We’d have to pack up anything that looks too personal for showings, and we’d have to deep clean the house compared to the dusting we did on arrival.
I know Oliver would forgive me for hurting him again. He’s just like Miguel. Two amazing guys that are too good for this world.
They want to forgive the people who have wronged them. What does that say about me? I can’t even forgive my parents, even though they are dead. It’s not like I can get some satisfaction from confronting them anymore.
Oliver is a good person.
“Babe.” My spine jumps at his voice.
“What?” I answer with flushed cheeks as my eyes focus again, and he’s leaning down so we are at eye level with each other.
Then, it hits me again like a burst of heat. I’m pretending to be his girlfriend because that’s what his mom thinks I am. My stomach turns at the thought.
Oliver’s heated expression turns worried.
“Princess?” God, why does he have to keep calling me that? Every time I hear it, my core fills with arousal. “Mom, is the guest room ready?”
“Yes, sweetie, it is.”
“Okay, I’m gonna take Sally in for the night. She’s not feeling well.”
He grabs my hand before I can fight back and pulls me through the house and toward the guest room.
All my fight disappears as he closes the door to the room, and we are alone.
I drag my eyes over every part of the room. The bland beige walls, placeholder photo frames, and a full-size bed.
Once I rake over the room, I feel the dread of my eyes landing on Oliver. His build is only a few inches taller than me, but every time he looks at me with heat, I feel like he’s towering over me.
Oliver wipes his hand through his disheveled hair. Our eyes lock, and his flash with some sort of intensity that is too much for me to bear, so I turn away.
“Sorry about this. I know you haven’t felt well since being here.”
This catches my full attention. He knew I wanted to leave this whole time.
