Page 135 of The Unravelings

Suddenly, those bright green eyes pop open, and he startles, looking up at me. There’s a glaze hanging over his eyes. Confusion lingers there. He inspects my face and looks all around. Relief instantly floods me at the sight of him alive.

“Fucking hell, Oliver,” I mumble, putting my forehead against his and suck in several deep breaths. “You scared the shit out of me.” I stay like that for over a second.

“Did you break my nose?” he mumbles from beneath me with confusion. “And knock me out?”

“Shit!” I pop up, offering him my hand. Slowly, he sits up with a distant look in his eyes, and his brows furrow. “Sorry. God.” I take his face in my palms, inspecting his nose. “Doesn’t look broken. I think I caught it just right with the glove. It’s bleeding like crazy. Let’s go take care of that?” I ask, staring deep into his eyes.

“Yeah,” he says, clearing his throat. “Let’s take care of it, Champ.” He grins at the nickname, a laugh bubbling up in his chest.

“That’s right,” I quip, slowly letting go of him. “Let’s take you to the medical kit we have in the locker room office. We can get it to stop the bleeding. I’m…”

“Don’t say you’re sorry,” he chides, slowly getting to his feet with me and swaying a bit. “That was fun.” He shrugs with a nonchalant shoulder and a huff. His fingers prod his nose a few times. “I don’t think it’s broken, either,” he hums as we make our way out of the fighting ring and head toward the locker room. “We’ll have to do this again.” He grins at me, exposing his blood-stained teeth, and it makes me feel even worse.

“Fun,” I laugh. “Yeah, I guess it was. Minus that,” I say, pointing to his bloodied nose.

Oli snorts and then groans. “I can’t believe you actually knocked me out.” He shakes his head, his sweaty, tousled brown locks moving with him. “My cousin is going to be jealous.”

“He was here, wasn’t he?” I ask as I open the locker room door for him and then lead him to the small office with medical supplies.

“Yup. Came to the fights with me. Stayed for a few days,” he says lightly, plopping down on a chair opposite me with a goofy grin. Fuck.

“You sure you’re okay?” I ask, getting the medical kit and pulling out the instant cold pack and some gauze. “You’re looking a little concussed.”

Oliver shakes his head. “No. No. I’m good.” He waves a hand.

“If you say so,” I mumble, not thoroughly convinced that he’s okay.

After taking care of his bloodied nose, Oliver and I climb into my car and make our way back to campus.

“If you’re feeling bad later, text me or something. So I know I didn’t kill you or whatever,” I say, putting the car into park outside the dorms.

Oliver snorts. “I’ll be sure to do that. Thanks for the bloody nose and concussion,” he teases before climbing out. He lingers for a second, scoping out campus, and leans back in. “But I’m fine, seriously. Don’t think anything of it, Champ.”

My cheeks heat at the nickname, and I clear my throat. I swear it all goes straight to my dick. Fuck it. “Hey, uh, would you want to grab some dinner sometime and hang out?”

He blinks several times. “Just the two of us?”

“Uh, yeah,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck. “Some burgers and…”

“Sure, but let me beat your ass in the ring again.” He grins as he shuts the door, getting the last word as I chuckle to myself.

“Yeah,” I chuckle. “Beat my ass, right.” Fuck. I run a hand down my face, feeling a lightness I haven’t felt in a long time. Sparring with Oliver was exactly what I needed to lighten my mood. Among other things. My mind wanders as I sit in the parking lot, breathing for the first time since I drove Oliver to my home and then to the gym. Being in his presence was soothing in a way I’ve never experienced. Like he took away all the worries weighing down my shoulders.

Fuck.

I blink several times. Right. I need to go home and shower. Wash away the sweat and the damn hormones taking me over and demanding I follow Oliver up to his dorm. Down boy. Not today. We’ll take this slow and see if this ship even sails.

As I’m pulling out of the parking spot, I stall, watching Oliver walk with a familiar dog at his side. My brows furrow when Waffles, the dog who likes no one, follows Oliver into his dorm building, and they disappear together.

Storm clouds gather in the distance, rumbling with thunder and promising much-needed rain. Something that doesn’t happen very often here, but seems to be happening more as summer turns to fall.

“Well, you don’t see that shit every day,” I mumble to myself and drive home with Oliver on my mind and the last image of him with Mack’s fucking dog following him. So fucking odd.

Once inside, I slam the front door closed and heave a breath. Tension radiates off every inch of me.

“Mal?” I holler through the house, peeking around every corner. “Fucker,” I grunt, taking out my phone and calling him again. “It’s been hours, Malic,” I growl to the dial tone when he doesn’t pick up again. “Whatever,” I say to no one again and make my way up the stairs to my bedroom. Closing the door behind me, I shut out the world as I gather fresh clothes to change into and throw them on my bed. Maybe a hot, steamy shower will help wash away everything I’m feeling.

All the rage.