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Mothertrucker.
“But my lovely fiancée here was kind enough to pluck them out one at a time when we first got together. The woman is a saint.”
“I’d take her hatred before anyone else’s love any fucking day,” Oliver groaned.
Oliver stared at me, first in a daze, then with unabashed frustration. “You’re not finishing what you started?”
“Well, if I don’t finish, my bones will fall off.”
He bracketed me, a hand on either side of my waist, breathing fire down my face and neck.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He looked feral, baring his teeth at me.
“I do hold a job, and we both know that. Now cut the bullshit. Why would my fiancée stay anywhere that’s not my hotel?”
“It is to me. You said I don’t finish what I start? Well, I sure as fuck am going to seal the deal here.”
“If you want to bail on us this time, fine. Your prerogative, I guess. But I won’t be the one to fucking ruin us. Not this time.”
“Listen carefully.” His lips went to the shell of my ear.
“I have no morals. No ethics. No fucks to give.
What I want, I take. And what I’ve always wanted is right i...
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If you don’t want me, you better run fast...
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Because once I’ve had a taste of you again, I am not...
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Before I could get my head straight and answer him, his mouth clashed against mine, hard and deter...
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I got drunk on his kiss.
Oliver cut the kiss short, suddenly and abruptly. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes pinned on mine.
He didn’t bother helping me gather myself together. I latched onto the cab’s roof to steady myself.
He was cold yet intimate. Familiar yet strange.
This, I thought, is the real Oliver von Bismarck.
“By the way, sweetheart, I’ve made this a weekend vacation for both of us.”
“You’ll be staying with me in the penthouse. Top floor. We have reservations for a restaurant later tonight, but before that, we have a date.”
“You only dressed to the nines so you can dump him looking like a bad ass.”
Oliver showed up at six o’clock on the dot, which, unsurprisingly, beat out every other frog I’d dated.
dark-blue chinos, a white Henley, and an unbuttoned, fleece-lined Corduroy trucker jacket. He looked…normal.
“Good evening, sweetheart. Why, I’m glad to see you, too.”
He kissed me on the cheek, thrusting an oversized bouquet of blue roses into my hands.
“I cannot wait to take you ...
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The roses never cheated on me.
For a moment, he seemed…vulnerable.
“But I worked really hard on planning it.”
“Go on the date with me, and I’ll tell you.” His forehead dropped to mine. “It’s time.”
“Growing up, you always told people you’re from New York, though you never had the chance to explore the city. I thought I’d give you a little tour, so next time you tell people you’re from here, you’ll mean it.”
He fished out some AirPods from his pocket, tossing them into my hands. “Here.”
I popped them into my ears, and sure enough, Ollie’s prerecorded voice began talking in his best tour guide impression, explaining the hi...
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It must’ve taken Oliver so much time to prepare this.
All because he knew I’d always missed New York without ever living in it.
Le Boudoir. Transit Museum. Botanic Garden. Superhero Supply Store. House of Yes. He knew exactly what I would like.
Without answering me, he rounded the Volvo and opened the door for me.
Someone had obviously put in serious hours to restore the place, and it worked. It was charming. Adorable.
“Oh, no. I bought this house earlier this week,”
as if it were TOTALLY NORMAL TO BUY A HOUSE FOR A FIRST DATE.
“Let me show you to the cr...
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A sea of pastel pinks and purples danced across the walls. The nearest one boasted a mural of Sleeping Beauty, the scene where the prince lays eyes on Briar Rose for the first time.
A collection of ballerina carousels and music boxes filled white built-in shelves. Clothes, in all the brightest colors, scattered everywhere.
In the corner, kid makeup littered the top of a short vanity—glitter, eyeshadow, and miniature lipsti...
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And with a young Oliver, a real picture this time, his arm slung around my shoulders.
No one had ever taught me how to love. Before Ollie, I spent my childhood learning how to live without being seen.
