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Chapter Eight
Emmett
I woke late that night to discover that I was alone in my bed. I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach. Where had Olivia gone at this hour? I hoped she didn’t freak out and drive home.
I climbed out of bed and pulled on a pair of cotton boxers. I walked down the short hallway and noticed the kitchen light and the lamp next to my bookshelf was on.
I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw Olivia wrapped in one of my Mexican blankets, perusing my vinyl records with a white mug in her hand.God, she was beautiful with her sex-tossed brown hair and full pink lips. I leaned my shoulder against the wall. “Here you are.”
Olivia snapped her head toward me and her brown eyes widened. “Oh, hi.”
“You’re still here.”
“I didn’t do a runner,” Olivia said with a smirk. “I hope you don’t mind me raiding your teabags.”
“Not at all. Are you okay?” I inched toward her.
It took her a moment to reply, and I was relieved when she nodded. “I’m okay. What we did earlier was . . ..” She released a shaky breath. “It was something I haven’t done in a long, long time.”
“Me either.” I rested my hand on her cheek. “Thank you for letting me share that with you.”
She flashed a shy smile but said nothing more.
I wanted her to share more of herself with me. I didn’t want her to be afraid of me. I wanted to beg her to trust me, but I knew if I pushed her, shewouldrun off. The only way to gain her trust was to build something with her. Something concrete, something good, something that could last. She needed to be shown that I was different than whatever she had experienced in the past.
“Did I notice you checking out my vinyl records?”
“Yes.”
“Did you see a favourite?”
“It would either have to be Fleetwood Mac or The White Stripes.”
I pulled out both records and led her to the couch. Olivia sat down while I opened the lid of the record player. I put Fleetwood Mac on first and soon strains ofBig Lovefilled the room.
Olivia’s whole body instantly relaxed. “Oh my gosh! This album brings back so many childhood memories.” She smiled big.
“Good memories?” I asked as I sat beside her.
“Yes. Memories of summer days playing under the sprinkler in the backyard while Mum blasted this record and pissed off all the neighbours with the volume.”
I chuckled. “Your mom sounds as sassy as you can be.”
“Sassy, huh? I suppose, yeah.” Olivia shrugged. “Nothing like I used to be, but I can still hold my own. I have to be strong for my son.”
I shifted in my spot. I sat forward, then leaned back, then sat forward again. “I want to ask you questions and get to know you better, but I don’t know what’s off limits and what’s not.”
“Try me.”
“Alright.” I took a deep breath. “Tell me more about your mom.”
Her eyes lit up at the mention of her mother. “My mum is beautiful. She’s a battler like me, but a bit of a mess. She’s a single mum and has two other kids who are both a lot younger than I am—my brother, Raven, who’s twelve and sister, Meadow, who’s a ten-year-old wildlife warrior. Their father was a rich Sydney businessman who had a holiday house up in Cockatoo Cove. She had a whirlwind romance with him but he got sick of her quickly. She has terrible taste in men. She likes them arrogant and self-involved. Mum’s a bit of a hippy and likes a bit of dope here and there, but she’s a good parent and a good person. She’s very cheerful and charming and hardworking, so people love her and the kids. She’s just unlucky in love and no good at holding down permanent work.”
“You said your dad works in the film industry here?”
“Yep. He was my biggest fan until I fell pregnant at nineteen, just like my mum did—as if he didn’t have a part to play in her pregnancy with me. He’s such a hypocrite.”
“Are you close to your little brother and sister?” I asked.
