Oliver pulled me into his arms and rested his chin on my head.
“Maybe a little.”
I snorted.
“Can you do me a favor?”
I nodded against his chest.
“Give yourself time to process away from him.”
“But near Ronen?”
“No. If you want to see Ronen tonight, then do it. If you don’t, then don’t. Let me worry about Aspen. You focus on yourself. Because eventually, I want you to be confident that the male who holds your heart has the balls to realize what an honor that is.”
I nodded again, blinking away my gratitude.
Oliver was a soothing salve, always there—accepting me, valuing me, reminding me to value myself.
“I’m not sureballshas a place in that phrase,” I mumbled, my sticky cheeks rubbing against his skin.
“I like it. I think it does. Balls should be in every phrase.”
I laughed, a small sound he had a knack for pulling from me.
Eventually my laughter faded, and I asked the question I really wanted answered.
“So do you think that male is Ronen?”
Oliver took my shoulders and pushed me back, his expression severe.
“I think you’re the only one who can determine who will make you happy. And maybe that’s just yourself. And that’s okay too.” He softened. “Sometimes we need to hold ourselves through the mess and find our own strength to fix our broken pieces. But I’ll always be here to help you. From the ground up.”
“Not the sky down,” I finished.
“Exactly. Find your balls, Luce.”
“That could’ve been so sweet and you ruined it with?—”
“My balls?” Oliver’s brows danced.
“Just stop.”
“Balls.”
“Stop.”
I walked out the door to change and head to the library. Cato would be expecting me this morning.
“Big, giant, glorious balls!” he shouted into the hall, his head poking out the door.
“You’re a child,” I yelled back, grabbing my door handle.
The shadows wrapped around it pricked me, unlocking immediately after.
“One that has a big set of balls!”
I stopped, a devious thought taking over.
