“Stuff, huh?” I raise a brow. “You good?”
Ollie frowns. “Why wouldn’t I be good?”
“Just making sure you’re okay.” No good can come of a controlling boyfriend. I haven’t had one myself, but my mom has had enough that I know the person on the other side often comes out of it bruised, battered, and losing a part of themselves.
When Ollie continues to look at me, his nose scrunched up cutely, I add, “I’ve heard you have a, let’s say,protectiveboyfriend, so I was just checking on you.”
His eyes go wide behind his black-rimmed glasses. “If you’re worried Cillian might be hurting or controlling me, that’s actually laughable. He would never hurt me, and there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for me. It’s nice of you to ask, though. Most people wouldn’t. We live in a world where people only think about themselves and don’t speak up when someone is in trouble, so it’s cool that you do.”
I chuckle. “Don’t go thinking I’m a nice person. You just caught me on a good day.” Plus, I like him. I don’t like a lot of people, so that says something about Ollie.
“That’s like something Cillian would say.” He begins pulling out his books and laptop. “You’ll have to meet him sometime. This is my last shift before we head to Michigan for the holiday. He’s meeting my dad.”
He’s so open, which is interesting to me. I’m not the type to ever just offer information, partly because I would never have that kind of news to share, and partly because it’s no one’s business.
“How long have you been together?” I ask because it feels like the right thing to do. He’s holding a conversation with me, so I should do my part.
“Only a few months, but we’ve been through a lot. Cillian is it for me.”
I laugh.
“What’s so funny?” He smiles. “Okay, I get how that sounds. Believe me, I’m not looking at this situation through rose-colored glasses. I’m very logical about most things, not at all the head-in-the-clouds type. What Cillian and I have is real. I love him. And once he decides someone is his, there’s no going back for him.”
“His?” I cock a brow. “Now I’m gonna worry again that you’re in an unhealthy relationship.”
“You don’t need to worry about me. I promise. Whatabout you? Where did you move from again?” he asks, and we have a short—and vague on the details—conversation. “You live with your mom? What does she do?”
“Does drinking count?”
He frowns, his gaze softening in a pitying way that makes me uncomfortable.
“I’m sorry.”
“Why? What’s the point? Life is what it is. Being sorry doesn’t change anything. And don’t feel sorry for me. That shit pisses me off.”
Ollie rolls his eyes. “You remind me of our friends.” He doesn’t elaborate and I don’t ask, though I do wonder how in the hell someone so obviously good, kind, and smart is friends with people like me. “Are you a musician?” Ollie asks.
I sit up straighter, wondering how he knew that.
Ollie points to the tattoos on my arm—the guitar and music notes.
“Yeah—guitar and piano.” I like talking to Ollie. There’s something calming about him. I don’t have a whole lot of calm in my life.
“Cillian plays piano.”
“Keep talking about your boyfriend this much, and I’m definitely gonna think you’re in an unhealthy, obsessive relationship.”
“I never said we weren’t obsessive,” Ollie teases, giving me another chuckle.
“You’re funny. And not what I expected. I hate most people, and I don’t hate you, so that should tell you something.” I stand, my break coming to an end. “See you in the kitchen, Counselor,” I tease back. Another thing about Ollie—he’s pre-law, and I never expected to like someone on that side of the law.
Ollie loses himself in his studying while I go make pizzaand hate every second of it. I only work for two hours with Ollie, and then I’m off and heading home. Since Mom busted into my closet, I keep my guitar in my trunk, so I grab the case before going inside. The trailer is a mess, and Mom is drunk out of her mind. It doesn’t matter if I leave her money or not, she finds a way to get whatever she’s looking for. If she cared as much about getting her life together as she does drinking or gambling, she’d be unstoppable. But she’s pretty and enjoys using her body, and there are lots of men willing to pay for it.
“I had a shitty day at work. Thanks for asking,” I grumble when she doesn’t say anything to me, just sits there smelling like alcohol, face in her phone.
“Shai…sweetheart. Why are you always so grumpy? We should go out tonight!”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not going out with you.”
