I roll my eyes and follow Oliver into the hallway next to the dining room.
My back hits the wall as I exhale all the stress that was just heaped on my shoulders.
“I figured you needed a reprieve from that bullshit,” Oliver says.
“Thanks.”
I run my hand through my hair as I hear my mother calling Dad and Blaire to the kitchen. It sounds so normal and something I could totally get used to … in a perfect world.
One we don’t live in.
“You’ve gotten yourself in deep with all of this Blaire stuff,” Oliver says quietly. “I know it. But you’re going to have to block out Mom and Dad and whatever else and focus. I need you, bud.”
I blow out another breath.
“I know. I’m here. I promise,” I tell him.
He leans against the wall next to me. We stare out the windows and into the front yard. The ferns my mother hangs off the porch every year sway in the breeze.
“You can do both things, you know,” Oliver says.
“What two things?”
“You can work and have a relationship.”
My head hits the drywall.
I can’t have both. I can’t have both for so many reasons.
“She’s going home soon, right?” he asks.
I nod.
“Do you know where you stand with her?” he asks.
“Yeah. She’s going home.”
The words fall flat into the air.
Oliver sighs. “Is she going home because she wants to? Or because you didn’t give her the choice?”
I roll my head to the side and look at my brother. “Are you a relationship expert now?”
“No, but I don’t have my head clouded by Blaire’s pussy either.”
I groan.
He’s right. Of course. And I hate that he’s right this time more than ever.
My headisclouded. I do feel pulled. Two things I hate even more than Ollie being right.
“Listen, I—” I begin, but Oliver’s chuckle stops me. “What?”
“You’re getting ready to talk in a circle and give me a bunch of excuses as to why you can’t do what you want.”
“Fuck you.”
“I’m not fucking you when she leaves.” He turns his body so we’re facing head-on. “Because she’s gonna leave you, Holt. Are you readyfor that? If you think you’re distracted now, think about what that’s gonna be like.”
