Oliver puts the knife down with a thud.
“Darius.”
There’s frustration in the way he says my name, but there’s something else there, too. Fear maybe.
“Oliver,” I reply, tone flat. I move to stand next to him, using the knife to scrape the sliced chicken into the pasta dish.
“I should go,” he says, pushing against the counter with both palms then stepping around me.
I put the knife down and turn to follow behind him. “Why?”
He doesn’t answer, just roughly kicks his trainers before stepping into them. He hesitates at the door, his body tense, his shoulders rising and falling with each breath.
“This too much for you, Oliver?” I ask, taking a step closer. “Being real with me? Having an actual fucking friend?”
He spins around, nostrils flaring, eyes dark and stormy.
“Fuck you,” he barks.
I smile, saccharine sweet, fully aware that I’m being an asshole, but also pretty sure he wants to be here as much as I want him here. Like so many of the strays I’ve met at the shelter that desperately want affection but are also terrified of it.
Closing the space between us, I place a hand on his cheek, tipping my face to look into his eyes.
“No, thanks, puppy. Now, how about you sit down and eat with me?”
His lips are a solid white line, his hands clenched at his sides, but he relents, dipping his head in a subtle nod.
“We’re going to be friends, Ollie. Even if it scares you.”
Chapter 5
Oliver
I’m not scared of him.
I’m fucking terrified.
Darius is standing in front of me, waiting for me to make a move.
He wants me to stay. I want that too, but I have this overwhelming need to run and put a safe distance between my fragile heart and this man who suddenly has far too much power over me. Darius holds out a hand, and I kick off my trainers, then place my palm in his. I step towards him, and the urge in me to steer this moment to somewhere I’m more comfortable and to grasp control takes over. My other hand comes up to clutch the back of his neck and I pull him forward with force, but before my lips meet his, Darius’s hands hit at my chest, forcing me back.
“Don’t do that,” he says, his nostrils flaring. “Don’t ruin this.”
I step back, and squeezing my eyes shut, I tug at my hair until the ache is too much. Panic swells in my chest, and I suck in air, willing my heart to slow down before I pass out.
What the fuck did I just do?
You always make the wrong choices, Oliver.
My mother’s words have never felt more true than they do now. I’ve never pushed myself on someone. I know first hand what it feels like to have something taken that you weren’t offering, and the thought I am anything like him makes me physically sick to my stomach.
“Fuck,” I yell into the quiet flat. I gather the strength to open my eyes and look at Darius. “I’m so fucking sorry. I’m going to go. Fuck. I wouldnever…” I take yet another step away from him.
“Come here,” Darius says, his voice firm, arms wide open. I shake my head. “Oliver. Give me a fucking hug.”
He should hate me.
Ihate me.
