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“You’ve got a lot on your mind,” Oliver said. When Victor raised a brow, he shrugged. “I’m good at my job because I can read people.”
“So I’m not quiet and mysterious?”
“No,” Oliver said, laughing as he gently pulled his wrist away. “You’re dangerous.”
Victor went hot all over, then cleared his throat. “We should, ah…” He pointed his cane at Oliver’s car, and Oliver’s eyes went wide like he just noticed it.
“Were you hurt last night?”
Victor shook his head. “No.” He left it at that. He wasn’t in the mood to explain his body, but somehow, he knew he wouldn’t have to. Oliver hadn’t pushed the night before, and he wasn’t pushing now. He just turned back to his car and waited for Victor to get in.
It smelled much nicer, and when he glanced into the back seat, he saw all the trash was gone, and it looked like Oliver had attempted to wipe everything down. That made him laugh as he slid in and buckled his belt.
“Shut up,” Oliver snapped.
Victor choked. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You were thinking it. And yes, I’m trying to impress you. I have to cart you around in a piece-of-shit Civic while you drive some car that cost more than most people’s homes.”
Victor flinched. He’d never thought of his car that way. He hadn’t even bought it himself. He’d given his PA a list of all the features he needed and told her to find the safest one on the road. So she had. He hadn’t even asked how much it cost.
God, he really was one of those guys, wasn’t he?
“I feel like I should apologize,” he murmured, staring down at his hands.
Oliver let out a sigh, then shook his head. “No. I’m being kind of a dick because your level of rich intimidates the fuck out of me. I keep thinking there has to be some kind of angle here. Like, even if it’s not some fetish, maybe you just want to slum it, or…I don’t know. You’re obviously getting something out of this.”
Victor couldn’t say he wasn’t. He wasn’t doing this out of the goodness of his heart, and while he wasn’t sure it was his libido making decisions, his heart was definitely involved. But he’d be a liar if he said he wasn’t wildly attracted to every part of Oliver he’d seen so far.
“I don’t know what to say,” he eventually admitted. “I’m…um…”
Oliver groaned, interrupting him. “No, no. This was all me. I made it weird. Let’s start over, okay? Tell me your favorite animal at the aquarium.”
Victor’s nervous stomach settled almost immediately as Oliver backed out and headed for the main street. He could talk about aquatic animals all damn day if someone let him. Not that anyone ever had.
“And don’t say otters,” Oliver added. “Those are mine.”
Victor laughed very softly and shook his head. “It’s hard to choose. They’re all…fascinating. Different. Ocean animals adapt to the strangest conditions, and even the ones that are so ugly are also kind of beautiful.”
Oliver was quiet a moment, and then he shook his head. “God, you…”
“What?” Victor pressed when Oliver went quiet. He was what? Strange? Bizarre? Victor had heard that and worse growing up. He’d learned not to talk about the things that interested him with the people he knew. It was easier than trying to toughen his skin.
“I love the way you see things,” Oliver eventually said. “But Iamgonna be a dick and tell you that you have to choose.”
Victor fought back a grin, ignoring the feeling in his chest as he shrugged. “Fine. Skates. I’m not going to choose which species though.”
“Skates, like…?”
“They’re Rajidae, technically,” Victor told him. “Stingrays, mantas.”
“Oh my God, you fantastic weirdo,” Oliver said, laughing. “Why would anyone choose them?”
“Because they’re like water puppies. They like being pet, and they’re sweet,” Victor said, the warmth in his chest refusing to hide. “And they’re deadly without being aggressive. When I was little, I used to wonder if they felt bad every time they killed something without meaning to.”
Oliver took the on-ramp to the freeway. “I guess that’s kind of the opposite of why I like otters. They’re cuddly, and they hold hands, and they cradle their babies on their stomachs. But they’re also giant assholes if you threaten them. And when you don’t.”
“I confess I haven’t spent a lot of time studying otters,” Victor told him.
