Page 32 of Ruined

“Oliver,” he says, pulling my attention back to him. “If you’re calling me that for the wrong reason, it’s… not appropriate.” He doesn’t sound angry; he sounds conflicted and maybe a little worried. Why is he worried?

I shrug, but there’s a stiffness to my shoulders that makes it obvious he struck a nerve. “But you like it when I call you that. And you called me ‘good boy.’ Is that appropriate?” I send him a sideways look, gaze challenging.

His mouth falls open, and it’s his turn to blush. “You got me.” He grimaces. “How about this: you don’t call me ‘Daddy,’ and I don’t call you ‘good boy.’ Okay?”

“But why?” Pouting, I tap my foot against the bar stool’s footrest, and I’ve stopped eating to instead rip my egg sandwich apart bit by bit. “We both like it.”

His jaw tightens. “It’s inappropriate, Oliver. I’ll leave it at that.”

I don’t care about being inappropriate. Yesterday, during the massage, I felt his hard dick against my ass—isn’t that inappropriate? I’m so confused. When he came back from the bathroom, he said he didn’t want to hurt me. Why would he ever hurt me? I always feel safe around him. Always. So what is he so worried about?

When he drives me home on the way to work, I feel sullen and hopeless, and I don’t know what to do. The twins are out somewhere, so I spend the day by myself, gaming on the Xbox in the living room. Nico’s sound system really makes a difference; I feel more immersed in the game world with every sound perfectly balanced and the bass playing off the high notes.

Or at least I would feel immersed if my mind didn’t keep interrupting me with thoughts about Logan. My brain is a mess; it keeps looping the massage and the time he put his thumb in my mouth.

If I think too deeply about it, if I replay the memories too vividly in my mind, I’ll need to go to my room and take care of myself, and it’s not like that’ll work in the long run. I’ve tried to fight my attraction to him, and I can’t. My need for him only grows stronger day by day, and it’s not fair. He’s holding himself back, and for what? I know our relationship wouldn’t be conventional or even strictly right, but I don’t care. I wish he didn’t care either.

I pull my knees up and glare at the TV, punching the buttons of the Xbox controller as if the game is doing me a personal slight. I’m sick of touching myself and thinking of him. I’m sick of him pulling me in and then pushing me away. I want him, and I’m sick of waiting for him to realize he wants me too.

By the time the twins come home, I’m still on the couch, watching some silly reality TV show.

“What’s up, Blondie?” Nico vaults over the backrest and lands beside me.

“Where have you been?” My voice comes out subdued, still lost in thoughts of Logan.

“Luca,” Nico calls. “I think he needs a drink.”

“What? No.” I cross my arms, hating that Nico can read me so well.

“Make it a virgin one, then,” Nico says and winks at me.

Luca looks as tired as I feel when he brings a tray of three glasses with what looks like orange juice. I can never trust the twins, though. I take a sip, and I think there’s some vodka hiding in there, but I can’t be sure.

“Go ahead,” Luca says. “We’re all ears.” He’s wearing a pair of pink jeans and a tight white shirt, while Nico’s wearing a ripped black sweater and black sweatpants. The weather has been getting colder the last few weeks, and yesterday, I saw my first yellow leaf.

I pull my knees into my body and wrap my arms around my legs, contemplating where I should start. By this point, I don’t care if the twins judge me anymore, so I start at the beginning. I tell them about Logan, about how he used to be my stepdad from ages seven to thirteen, about how he left me and my brother behind when he and my mom broke up. I tell them about the hookup app.

I tell them pretty much everything, and by the time I’m done, Nico is grinning, and Luca’s got a worried crease between his brows.

“I knew it,” Nico says.

Luca rolls his eyes. “You didn’t know anything.”

“I knew he was seeing someone.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t know he was seeing his literal stepdad.”

“We’re not dating,” I mutter.

“But you want to date him,” Nico says.

I drop my gaze to hide my blush. “Yeah. I want… I want him.” It’s the first time I say it out loud, and now that I do, it feels a bit ridiculous. Wanting my stepdad. Logan. The man who raised me for years, the man who slept in the same bed as my mom. From a logical standpoint, it’s ridiculous, wrong, but in my heart, it feels so right.

I’ve longed for him in many ways over the years, and now that we’ve met again, something inside me tells me it’s meant to be him. He’s the one. The only one I’ve ever wanted, the only one I can imagine being with. He’s the one I thought of when I first installed the hookup app. He’s the one I dream of, the one I hold in my thoughts and in my heart, and I’m tired of denying it.

“Have you told him that?” Luca asks.

I bite my lip. “Kind of. I mean… not really.” Even if he’s figured it out, I know he won’t allow himself to do anything unless he’s sure. Even if I tell him outright, I’m scared he’ll reject me.