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“You don’t own the word.”
“I know, but still.”
I rolled my eyes as I grabbed a cloth to wipe down the table. The flowers he’d bought me were on the counter, and once the tabletop was clean, I put the vase back where it belonged in the middle of it.
“I’m glad you like them,” Ollie said, watching me adjust the bouquet.
I peered over at him with a small smile. “They’re beautiful, thank you. They also pissed off my editor so that was a bonus.”
“You want to piss off your editor?”
I waved for him to follow me outside. I didn’t need to wake Leo up with my ranting and raving about my bitch of a coworker, so instead we took up residence on the sofa on the porch. My neighbors wouldn’t bother us—one was an elderly couple and the other was a very pregnant mama with a two-year-old.
When we were both sitting, I recapped my conversation with her after the flowers had arrived.
“You’re telling your boss about that, right?”
I shook my head. “The interns apparently heard a rumor that he wants to replace her with me. I don’t need any more trouble. She hates me just for existing.”
“But she can’t talk to you like that, London. It’s out of order. What if someone else spoke to him?”
“I’m a grown woman. I don’t need anyone to fight my battles for me. Honestly, I mostly ignore her.”
Ollie turned and rested his hand on mine. “I mean it. You have to tell your boss. What if I spoke to him? I caused this.”
I covered the top of his hand with mine so it was in a sandwich and smiled. “That’s very sweet of you to offer, but I promise you it’s absolutely fine. I have no desire to start any drama. I’m a young mother of one wild six-year-old boy. I’m being pulled pillar to post at work and at home; if I’m not writing articles and doing research until midnight, I’m going back and forth to the sports center for endless sports sessions and tournaments for Leo. My family are wonderful, but they have their own lives, and the only other person in the world who has a true responsibility to look after him fucked off to Miami, two and a half thousand miles away, and now everyone wants me to date and find a new boyfriend or whatever. I just don’t have the time or the energy to devote to something I just don’t care about.”
Ollie looked at me for a long moment. “I never thought about your life like that.”
I pulled my hands away with a hollow laugh. “Why would you? It’s not your life to worry about. We all have our struggles, and mine come from being a single parent with a very small support network.”
He smiled sympathetically. “Did your boss care I sent you flowers?”
I snorted. “No. He told me to go out for dinner with you.”
“Why don’t you?”
“What?”
He rubbed his hand down his face, smiling. “Why don’t you go out for dinner with me?”
“Are you—are you asking me out?”
“I’m not sure I can be much clearer on that, London.”
“No, I—” I pressed my fingers to my mouth and scratched my cheek, looking down. “I don’t know. I have a lot of work to do, and—”
“You’re making excuses.”
Damn it. How did he know me that well? “I am not!”
“Yes, you are. You’re making excuses because you know you have no reason not to go out with me.” His eyes sparkled with knowing. “And I’m calling you on that bullshit.”
“You know, this totally fits in with my thing about everyone trying to get me to date. Now I have to add you to the list!”
“What are you so afraid of?”
The lump that formed in my throat was almost suffocating, but I managed to swallow and push it back down.
Everything.
I was afraid of everything. I already enjoyed spending time with Ollie way more than I should. I smiled and laughed a lot around him, and sometimes when he looked at me, I felt smatterings of butterflies in my belly.
I was comfortable with him.
Too comfortable.
Especially when the little voice in the back of my head reminded me that there was a very good chance he was going to leave. And soon.
“Okay, let’s do an experiment.”
“An experiment?” I frowned.
Ollie nodded. “Right now.” He shuffled over the sofa, closer to me, and my heart thumped. “If you feel nothing after this, then I won’t ask you again. I promise I’ll drop it. If you do, you’ll give me one chance to take you out on a date this weekend.”
“After what?”
Hair was caught on my eyelashes, and he reached over, brushing it away, then met my eyes. “I want to kiss you, London. Is that okay?”
He asked if he could kiss me.
Asked.
Actually asked.
I wasn’t sure anyone had ever asked before.
