Page 64 of Burning Embers
“Not drama. Besides, I have a vested interest.” His gaze holds mine. There’s so much truth and strength behind his words, that I want to look away, but he holds me captive, those violet orbs a weapon all of their own.
“I see you, Olly. When you try to hide who you are, I see you.”
He smiles. “Is that so? And what do you see?”
“Everything I never knew I was missing,” I reply, omitting that I also believe maybe…in a small or even perhaps a profound way, that we are the same, that he is my soul mate.
Chapter Forty-One
RACHEL
I don’t have the heart to tell Olly how Marcus got on his hands and knees, begging me to take him back when he arrived here half-cut last night. As much as Olly bites his tongue, I see how much Marcus pisses him off. If I would have arrived at his place and his ex was half-naked when he opened the door, I doubt I would have been as calm and collected as he was just now.
Marcus can be manipulative, pushy. Lately, he’s only been showing these negative traits, and it’s building into a much larger problem. Something’s got to give. I know this, and yet, I feel powerless to do anything about it.
I never wanted to be one of those women who used their child as a weapon, and I never will, but I have a duty of care to our daughter, and if that means protecting her from her father as he destroys himself…then so be it.
Maybe I should speak to his parents, perhaps they can talk some sense into him. He will need to be the one to fix this, but he needs a support system, too.
Olly is staring at the floor, elbows on his knees, head down.
I lied—feigned an illness—and he came to check on me. Who even does that? “I am sorry,” I say, walking towards him.
He meets my stare, then pulls me towards him and down onto his lap so I’m straddling him. “Don’t be—it’s not your fault.” He kisses my neck softly, and my body warms from his touch. I wish he didn’t have to leave, but I know he has to get home.
“You should go,” I say.
“You want me to leave?” he asks, hurt in his voice.
“No, but I know it’s not fair to Buster.”
He tilts his head back so he can see my face. “He’s at my mum’s.” He squeezes my hips; tingles break out over my body. “I tend to do it every now and again when I have late shifts and leading up to fight nights. It’s good for their dog, Max, too.”
I smile at that. “In that case, stay as long as you want.”
He lets out a contented sigh. “How about all night?” he asks, his eyes probing. I glance over my shoulder towards Molly’s closed bedroom door. “Hey, it’s fine, ignore me.”
I reach for his face. “If you don’t mind sharing a lumpy sofa with me, I’d love to have you stay the night,” I say, kissing him on each cheek before meeting his soft, warm lips.
“As long as I get to hold you, I’m down.”
He stands, and I slip down the front of his body. He holds me, swaying on the spot. I close my eyes, savouring his smell, my ear pressed against his chest, his heartbeat my favourite melody.
“Let me go grab the clean bedding set.”
Once the sofa is made, I change into a long t-shirt and a pair of sleep shorts. I hear a hum of appreciation from him.
“Are you sleeping like that?” I ask, eying him still fully clothed.
He looks down at himself with a laugh. He pulls his shirt over his head and removes his jeans and socks, now only in a pair of tight briefs.
Now I’m the one trying to suppress a groan. “Go lay down,” I say.
He cocks an eyebrow, but does as he’s told, turning on his side. I switch off the lamp and lay down so my back is to him. After some fidgeting, he wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me against his chest.
“What did you want to be when you grew up?” he whispers in my ear.
I stroke my fingers over the back his hand. “A teacher. I wanted to be an Art teacher,” I reply.
