Page 46 of Haunt My Halls
Oliver’s phone pings and we both glance down at his crotch. “You gonna get that?”
He purses his lips and shakes his head once, “It’s probably Charlie. I’m not in the mood to lend a helping hand just now.”
I tilt my head and brighten my eyes, unable to stop myself from saying, “I have helping hands aplenty. You just say the word, crybaby.”
Oliver eyes me skeptically, then snorts and rolls his eyes, “No offense, but you’re not my type and your girlfriend scares me.”
My brow ridges draw tight in consternation, “But I’m everyone’s type! Wait… mygirlfriendscares you? What about me? I’m a fucking soul reaper.”
Ollie laughs and rolls his head. “I’ve seen bunnies scarier than you. Your girlfriend? She looks at me like she wants to eat me and then reanimate my corpse to play with afterward.” He shudders—actually fucking shudders, and then shakes his head. “You keep those helping hands to yourself, thank you ever so much.”
My eyes flash and start spinning and before I can stop myself I pull Oliver into a side hug and ruffle his chestnut brown hair. “You’re funny. Why the fuck don’t you talk more?”
He raises a single brow and hums, “Have you met you?”
I shake my head and chuckle, “Touché.” Amusement has replaced all the annoyance from the Charlie thing, and when I glance back over toward the others I find them all laughing and seemingly much more relaxed. Trissa floats up and drops a kiss on Cian’s cheek, both of them glowing with their happiness, and I breathe a contended sigh. Life is absolutely fucking bananas… but then there’s peanut butter and chocolate, too. Make of that profound analogy what you will.
