Chapter Fifteen
Theory v. Reality
Lying on his side ontop of the sheets, head propped on his hand, Felipe watched Oliver sleep. Oliver had agreed to type up their notes on the book’s theft for Head Inspector Williams, but Felipe hadn’t expected it to take the poor man half the night. In the small hours of the morning, Felipe felt the bed cautiously dip and opened one eye to find Oliver’s back facing him. The next morning when he discovered a second copy of the case file that amounted to nearly ten pages of explanation, diagrams, and minute details on his desk, he finally understood why it had taken so long. Oliver’s notetaking put his to shame, but he was pretty sure the head inspector probably would have preferred to receive Felipe’s three page synopsis. As much as he didn’t want to get the head inspector involved, if they were going to ask the librarians to research the book, they had to report it. Otherwise, it could reflect badly on Agatha, and she didn’t need that scrutiny.
A smile crossed Felipe’s lips as Oliver twisted toward him. Between sleeping in a pair of long johns with the top two buttons open to reveal a dusting of black hair and the five o’clock shadow creeping across his jaw, Oliver looked the most casual Felipe had ever seen him. Those pale pink lips called out to him as did the curve of his side beneath the blanket, but the last thing he wanted to do was scare Oliver awake with unexpected touch. While the sun shown in through the parlor window and the rest of the Paranormal Society had been bustling with life for several hours, Felipe had closed the bedroom door to let Oliver sleep in. On his way to the dining room, he had slipped into the library to give Gwen the file and let her know Oliver would be late today. Her knowing smile would have made Oliver blush, but he didn’t need to know about that.
Grabbing a cup of coffee off the nightstand, Felipe wafted it toward Oliver’s sensitive nose. His face twitched, and then his expression bloomed into confusion before he jolted awake. So much for the graceful wake-up.
“Ssssh, ssssh, you’re in my room,” Felipe said softly as Oliver’s eyes found him.
“Why are you dressed? Did something happen?”
“No, I just thought I’d surprise you with coffee and breakfast. I didn’t intend for it tosurpriseyou.”
“Oh.” Oliver blinked the sleep from his eyes and slowly sat up. He stared at the steaming cup with wide eyes as he took it from Felipe’s hands. “Thank you.”
Gone was the hesitance when he took a drink. With a satisfied grin, Felipe picked up his own cup and leaned back against the headboard. After a few sips, Oliver seemed more awake, so Felipe handed him a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast. Oliver’s lips parted in surprise, and he swallowed hard.
“Did I get you the wrong thing? When I stopped by the library, Gwen told me you had a regular order.”
Staring down at his plate, Oliver bit his lip. The silence stretched on until Oliver whispered, “No one has ever brought me breakfast in bed before.”
“Really? Did you not stick around after you—?”
“I did sometimes, but no, no one ever did.” His grey eyes glistened. “I did it for someone else, though, once. He told me I was trying too hard and that it made him uncomfortable to be so domestic.”
“Does it make you uncomfortable?”
Oliver shook his head. “No, I like it. I’m sorry. I swear, I don’t always wake up emotional. This was nice of you, exceptionally nice. Thank you, Felipe.”
It didn’t feel exceptional to him. It felt like something friends and lovers did for each other. Rubbing Oliver’s arm in firm strokes, the other man flashed him a smile as he ate. Felipe didn’t want to speak until Oliver had finished eating in case he said something that would upset him further. A ruined breakfast was a ruined day.
“You deserved better, you know. You deserve someone who is going to treat you well. A man who doesn’t belittle your needs or rebuff your affection.”
Twirling a crust of toast between his fingers, Oliver frowned. “I know, but how does one find those people? I don’t seem to attract people like that, present company excluded. After Ansley, he’s the one who got mad at me, I gave up even trying for years. With all of my past lovers, nothing I did was right or it was too much or too little, but that’s how it’s been my whole life.”
“Ansley’s the one who called you difficult?” Felipe’s jaw tightened. He had run into Christopher Ansley the previous year at the capital branch, and if he was the same Ansley, he was an arrogant turd.
“Yes, but he wasn’t the first. I’ve always been called difficult.” Counting off on his fingers, Oliver said, “I don’t like going out after work. I don’t like getting messy. I wear the same thing nearly every day. I don’t like being touched except when I want to be and only by a select group of people. I don’t like my work being disturbed. I don’t like my things touched. Even my breakfast choices people have taken issue with.”
“Why?” Felipe asked, eying the empty plate.
“Because I eat the same thing every day! I don’t understand how me eating eggs, bacon, and barely toasted toast affects anyone else’s life in the slightest.”
“It doesn’t, unless you’re making them eat it, too.”
