Oliver laughs. “You’re a lightweight. And I swim a lot.”
A swimmer. That explains it. It also fits him. I can totally picture him calmly doing laps in a quiet pool. I wouldn’t mind seeing him in a swimsuit.
Without the fear I normally have around men, I allow myself a moment of indulgence to explore this new interest. I bury my face in the crook of his neck and inhale deeply. A faint hint of aftershave floods my senses and makes me shiver.
Oliver freezes, and his whole body stiffens. All those swimmer muscles I was thinking about suddenly flex to life. Hope washes through me from Oliver, along with his thoughts. Did she just smell me? Is it possible she’s attracted to me? Is she just exhausted, or could she feel the same way I feel about her? What do I do? Do I ignore it? Do I say something?
His nervous rambling touches my heart, and out of nowhere, I press my lips lightly against the side of his neck before pulling away from his skin. Both of us suck in sharp breaths. “Nora…” he rasps.
“Sorry,” I mumble, not knowing what else to say. I’m as shocked by my actions as he is.
He swallows and slowly relaxes his body. “I’m not sorry,” he murmurs with a tiny chuckle. “Feel free to kiss me whenever you want.”
I relax. He’s so good at making me feel comfortable. I consider his offer and surprise myself when I realize I wouldn’t mind a kiss from Oliver. The thought scares me a little, but thrills me more. Maybe Oliver is the key to getting over my issues with intimacy. “I’ll work on it,” I finally say.
He chuckles again and squeezes me a little tighter to him as he starts walking. He carries me all the way to my car, which is parked right out front, waiting for us. Leave it to Terrance to think of something as small as my car, even after I’ve just been nearly murdered. I’m not even surprised to learn that Oliver already has my keys. He helps me get settled in the passenger seat, and then he climbs behind the wheel.
I fall asleep in the car on the way to my place and don’t wake up again until I’m lying on my own bed, Oliver removing my shoes. “Sorry. Go back to sleep,” he says softly as he sets my shoes neatly on the floor at the foot of my bed. He then proceeds to help me pull the covers back and tucks me in. My heart melts a little at the sweet gesture. I haven’t been tucked into bed since my mom died. I’m surprised that I love being taken care of this way.
He perches on the side of my bed, and his face becomes serious as he looks down at me. “You okay?”
I want to be strong and tell him I’m fine, but I can’t lie to him. “Not really. Physically, yeah, I’m just exhausted. Emotionally…?” I bite my lip and will myself not to cry as I say, “Can you—would you mind staying? I really don’t want to be alone tonight.”
Oliver’s mouth falls open, and he sucks in a silent breath. “You would trust me like that?”
Instead of blushing and feeling vulnerable, a sense of surety washes over me, forcing me to calm down. “There are exactly two people in this world I trust with my life—you and Terrance. I’d feel safer with you here.”
Oliver responds by smiling softly and taking off his shoes. He turns out the light and then lies down on the other side of my bed on top of the covers. I’m grateful he’s staying, but I’m even gladder that he knows me well enough to know exactly how to make me comfortable without me having to say it.
“Thanks, Ollie,” I whisper into the dark.
There’s a smile in his reply. “Good night, Nora.”
. . . . .
I wake up the next afternoon to Oliver bringing me breakfast in bed. Well, breakfast food, anyway. Technically, it’s more like lunch in bed. “My hero,” I say as I sit up with a big stretch and a yawn.
“What? This is mine,” Oliver teases as he sits down on the side of the bed he slept on with the tray of food in his lap. “Go get your own.”
He sticks a crispy piece of bacon in his mouth before he finally sets the tray on the bed between us. There are two plates piled high with food on the tray. My mouth waters as the smell of strawberry pancakes, eggs, ham, and bacon hit my nose. The man really is my hero.
While I go to town on all the delicious food, Oliver props himself up against the headboard, crosses his feet at his ankles, and grabs the TV remote from the night table. “I called in sick from work this evening, so we have a full twenty-four hours to lay in bed like slugs, binge watching every episode of Stranger Things.”
I laugh at that. You’d think with fantasy being reality for us, we’d prefer normal television, but we’re both paranormal geeks at heart.
Ollie doesn’t turn the TV on right away. Instead, we eat in silence until he clears his throat and says, “So…Parker was awfully worried about you last night.”
I cast him a sideways glance to let him know I’m not thrilled with the direction of this conversation. “Parker is a worrier. He’s like that with everyone.”
Oliver snorts. “Nice try. He may care about his clan, but he’s Henry’s chief enforcer because he has the ability to be cold and ruthless when he needs to be. I’ve seen it. The concern he shows you is different.”
“Yeah, because he feels guilty since it’s his clan always trying to hurt me, and he’s the one responsible for bringing me fully into the underworld.”
Oliver rolls his eyes. “It’s more than that, and you know it. I’ve never seen someone look at a woman the way he looks at you.”
I glare at Oliver, but he’s right, and he holds my gaze steady in his. I break first. “Fine.” I sigh. “Parker has an infatuation. I know it, but nothing’s going to come of it, so there’s no point in talking about it.”
Oliver is quiet for a long minute, then quietly asks what’s been on his mind since last night. “So, you’re not interested?”
That’s a question I’ve been skirting since I met Parker, because the answer is too complicated, but Oliver’s not going to let me off the hook with some bogus crap this time. I throw my head back against the headboard and groan at the ceiling. “It wouldn’t matter even if I was, which I’m not sure I am. He’s attractive and nice, but I’m too screwed up to get into a relationship, and his feelings for me aren’t real. He’s just affected by my curse.”
Oliver frowns, but I’m not sure which part of that he’s frowning at, so I say nothing. He moves the empty breakfast tray out of the way and turns to face me. “What curse?”
Okay, so I knew which part of that he was frowning at. I was just hoping I wouldn’t have to explain it to him. I cringe beneath the weight of his stare and give in. “There’s something different about me that draws people in.”
Oliver smiles wryly. “Could it be that you’re beautiful, smart, friendly, compassionate, loyal, and brave?”
I resist the urge to deny all of his compliments. I know he means them, even if I don’t feel deserving of his praise. “That’s not it. I mean, I put men under some kind of spell, until their fascination with me becomes obsession. Like with Henry. It’s happened all my life.”
I shake my head and interrupt Oliver when he starts to argue. “Think about it. Henry, Parker, Wulf, and Rook. Nick. Terrance.”
Oliver frowns again, this time seeing my point and having a hard time denying it.
“I think it has something to do with what I am.”
“What you are?”
I shrug. “Everyone’s always talking about me having underworlder blood. I have gifts that humans don’t have. Maybe I’m some weird human/underworlder hybrid. But whatever it is, I can’t get into a relationship when I know the guy only likes me because of my curse.”
Oliver’s face falls flat. “I don’t think that’s the only reason Parker likes you.”
“Parker doesn’t know me. He can’t like me. Parker wants me. There’s a difference. And with my history, there’s no way I’m getting involved with someone who’s only interested in sex. I can’t. If I’m ever able to go there with someone, and that’s a pretty big if, it’s going to have to be someone I trust implicitly and who I know isn’t going to lose control of themselves—which is what people tend to do when I return their attraction. My weird allure kicks into overdrive. It’s like when Cecile or Ren turns up their sex mojo. People can’t help themselves. They aren’t themselves.”