Lost and Found (14 page)

Oliver met me outside on the sidewalk as I was stretching for our evening run.

“Hey,” he said with a wide smile.

“Hi,” I said back, shyly. We’d only sent texts since our kiss, and I was afraid it would be awkward or different, but Oliver seemed hi
mself, but happier. Maybe he was happier because of me? I hoped so, even though I was going to tell him that we couldn’t do that anymore.

“Is Cliff gone?”

“Yeah. He left for his parents’ house when I told him I wasn’t moving back with him. I guess he’s back in LA now, but I’m not sure. He won’t return my texts.” I frowned at the memory of Cliff. It wasn’t even that he seemed forlorn or lost. He acted a toddler, like Oliver was stealing his favorite toy, when I’d eventually told him about the kiss. I hadn’t meant to, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss, and Cliff hadn’t stopped asking me to come back with him. When he learned Oliver kissed me, he promptly stopped asking.

“Good riddance,” Oliver said, and then stretched out next to me. My eyes widened as he leaned over, and his shirt rode up, revealing a stripe of his stomach. My fi
ngers itched to touch him.

When his gaze met mine, he sucked in a breath and stepped toward me, grabbing my hands. “Delaney,” he said.

“Hmm?” I was focused on his lips.

He ran a finger over my bottom lip and I shivered, making him smile. “I was wondering how you’d feel about skipping our run t
oday?” And then he leaned down and his lips met mine.

“This is a bad idea,” I said, pulling away.

“Right,” he said. “You’re right.” He went back to stretching. I went back to staring. “Which route do you want to take? I was thinking of running along the lake…” I trailed off as he leaned over to touch his toes, my mouth salivating.

I’d told myself over and over that things with Oliver would be a repeat of things with Cliff, but I still reached out for him, and brought him close to me.

My hands went to the nape of his neck, pulling him even closer. I wanted more of him. I wanted his body pressed into mine, and as I dragged him down to me, we stumbled backwards. “Maybe we could go back upstairs?” he asked, and then he kissed under my ear, down my neck, and to my shoulder.

“
Mmm,” I said, my eyes closed.

We made it up the stairs and then tumbled into her apartment as I pushed her backwards toward the sofa. My fingers grazed at the hem of her top, and I looked down at her. She bit her lip and nodded, and I pulled the top up and over her head, and then I leaned down and kissed her again, my hand cupping her breast.

I pressed my hips into hers as I kissed her, and she pressed back. I rubbed my index finger over her, feeling her nipple even through her sports bra, and then I
cupped her other breast, mimicking the behavior, as she slid her hand under my shirt, pressing against my stomach. I sucked in a breath.

She was beautiful. All of her, from the curve of her stomach, to her ribs, to the way her chest was ri
sing and falling with my hand gripped on a breast. She was perfectly Delaney. Her smooth tan skin was mottled near her ribcage, and I traced a finger across the spot as she sucked in a breath. “Oliver,” she said, and her hand came to grip mine, and gently pulled it away.

Then she stepped back and said, “This was a bad
idea,” and picked up her shirt.

Oliver closed the gap between us, grabbing my hands and pulling me toward him before I had the chance to pull my shirt back on. I wiggled free from him, covering my hands over my stomach.

A small line formed between his eyebrows. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” I pulled the shirt over my head. “This is just a bad idea.”

“Right,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean we have to stop.” I stepped out of his reach and said, “It does.
Bad idea.”

“I have a thought about that. Maybe we could try this.
Casually. Slowly.”

“Slowly?”

“Don’t forget casually. We could do that, right? Nothing serious?”

“Maybe.”
My eyes half shut from the waves of heat rolling off me.

He let out a ragged breath and I opened my eyes again, and saw him staring at me, slack-jawed. “Maybe I should just say, not slowly, but not this fast. I don’t know if I can promise slo
wly,” he said, and then his arms were around me, his hands trailing down my sides, causing my skin to break into goose bumps.

“This seems like it could cause a mess, Oliver,” I said, not quite meaning it.

“Trust me, I’ve done this before. It can work,” he said.

“I don’t think so.”

“I do.” He kissed my neck, but I pulled away.

He let out a huff of exasperation. “Listen, I’m g
oing to shower, and get dressed, and come back in an hour with my head on, and I’m going to try to explain this again,” he said, “because this can work.” Then he backed up, never taking his eyes off of me, until he was opening my door and leaving my apartment. “Don’t go anywhere,” he said. “Please.”

I didn’t want to move an inch.

As I shaved, I rehearsed the speech I’d been going over since I’d gotten back to my apartment, about how Delaney and I could work. It was the same speech I’d been planning on using on Cliff, with mod
ifications to take out the word “douche bag,” when my phone rang.

I picked it up without looking at the screen. “He
llo?”

“Oliver. I didn’t think you’d answer,” the sweet voice on the other end of the line said.

“Hi, Mia,” I said, wiping shaving cream off my other hand. “How are you?”

“I’m alright, considering my fiancé is talking about postponing our wedding.”

“What?”

“Exactly.
He said that he doesn’t want to look back on our wedding day and think about how his brother didn’t want to stand up by him.”

“Shit.” I winced.

“He really has no idea why you’re not coming to the wedding. I think it’s time that we tell him.”

“Mia, no.
No. It will shatter him.”

“I know, but it would be the best thing, don’t you think?” she said.

I rubbed my hands to my temples. “I don’t know. Let me think about it before you say anything to him.” I heard her exhale, and I added, “Please, Mia? Please.”

“Okay,” she said. “But could you think about it quic
kly? Because I’m supposed to be getting married in three weeks.”

“I will,” I said. “I’ll think as quickly as I can.”

And what I thought of first was that I would do anything for Mia.

Oliver came to the apartment, looking so good I felt my heart skitter sideways like a crab. He rested against the door jamb instead of walking into my apartment like he normally did. “We need to talk,” he said.

“We do.”

“You were right. I wasn’t thinking. It can’t happen again. We both have a lot going on.”

I nodded and my heart skittered again, this time for a different reason. “And,” he added, “I was wondering if you could just not tell anyone. About what happened.”

“Of course,” I said as he ran a hand through his wet hair.

“Thank you for being so…understanding.” He looked down at me with a serious expression. “Are we still friends?”

“We’re still friends,” I said. After he left, I let out a breath and slid down to the floor, touching the patch near my stomach. I had a feeling they were responsible for his change of heart. Maybe Oliver wasn’t as similar to Cliff as I’d thought. Maybe Oliver was a little bit less than Cliff.

***

Ursula tapped me on my forehead.
“Anybody home?”

“Hmm?”
I said, my fork dangling in my hand, hovering over my tomato and orzo salad.

“What’s up with you? You’ve been weird for days.”

I was just thinking about Oliver with his shirt off
, I thought. I said, “Nothing. Just tired.”

“I wanted your and Emily’s help picking out my outfit for the wedding.”

“Who’s getting married again?” Emily asked, popping a French fry in her mouth. I stole one off her plate and she said, “Hey,” swatting my hand away.

“That’s what I get for eating salad for lunch,” I said.

“Exactly,” Emily said, dipping another fry into ketchup. “Now, whose wedding?”

“My cousin Brad’s.
He’s getting married in a few weeks and it’s in a barn,” Ursula said with a roll of her eyes. “She’s wearing cowboy boots with her dress.”

“What’s wrong with that?” I asked. “It’s her we
dding.”

“I know. It’s fine, I just don’t know what to wear to a wedding that’s going to be in a barn,” Ursula said.

I leaned across Emily to grab more fries and said to Ursula, “Clothing snob.”

“Is Brad related to Oliver?” Emily asked, and my hand stilled over her plate.

“Brothers. They’re brothers. Brad’s older,” Ursula said. “Michael says it’s weird that he’s going to all these weddings now. Everyone he knows is getting married.”

“Maybe that means he’s going to propose,” I said.

“We’ve only been dating for a month. Cool it. We’re not there yet,” Ursula said.

“But you love him?” I cocked my head to the side, o
bserving the heat creeping up Ursula’s cheeks as she gave a shy nod. “Why are you embarrassed? It’s sweet. Love is sweet.”

“
Because,
” Ursula said, “I was sure you two would tell me it was too soon, like I told you with Cliff when you told me you loved him.”

“That’s because Cliff wasn’t right for her,” Emily said. “Obviously, Michael is a different st
ory.”

“So is Oliver,” I said, and Ursula and Emily swiveled to stare at me.

“What do you mean?” Ursula asked. “Oliver is a bad idea,” Emily said, and Ursula agreed. “I know. He is, but I still want to know what you meant, Laney.”

“Nothing.”

“You
like
Oliver. Ha! I knew it!” Ursula stood up in the middle of the break room and pointed at me accusingly, her mouth an angry slash as she said, “I
knew
it.”

“Yeah, well. Keep it down. He’s a bad idea, I know,” I said and Ursula sat down and relaxed her shoulders. “B
esides, it doesn’t matter. And he doesn’t feel like that about me,” I said.

“How do you know until you ask?” Emily said.

“I did. I…we kissed,” I said.

“How was it? Don’t leave out any details,” Emily said, and U
rsula leaned closer in on the tiny circular table.

“It was….it was amazing.” I closed my eyes, reme
mbering the feel of Oliver’s mouth on mine. “It made my toes curl. It literally made my toes curl from how good it was. I had no idea
kissing
could do that.”

“Imagine how good other things are,” Emily said, and Ursula hit her and said, “Gross. Cut it out. That’s my cousin.”

“Please. If we have to hear about Michael’s lovemaking skills, you can hear about how good of a kisser Oliver is,” Emily said with a shake of her head. “And also? No one wants to know how Michael’s lovemaking skills rate. He’s not a figure skater. He doesn’t want to know, either.”

“We don’t want to know either, in case you missed Emily’s subtl
ety,” I added.

“So, you and Oliver” Ursula said flatly.

“There is no me and Oliver. We kissed, and we’re not doing that again,” I said.

“Why?” they both asked in unison.

“Because. It was a bad idea, like you said. And he’s kind of dangerous,” I said.

“Dangerous? I assure you, Oliver is a bad idea, but not dangerous,” Ursula said, stabbing at her salad with her fork, causing a tom
ato to squirt across the table.

“Poor tomato.
Never had a chance,” Emily said.

“Oliver is dangerous
to me.
I just got out of a relationship with Cliff. Five very, very long years.”

“But that was
Cliff,
” Emily said.

“So you keep pointing out. That was Cliff. This is Oliver. Ol
iver is worse. Oliver knows me. We talk. We’re friends. It was never like that with Cliff, it was just me drooling all over him. With Oliver, it’s real. And Oliver told me I was beautiful.” I closed my eyes, picturing him above me as he told me that.

“You
are
beautiful,” Emily said.

“But Cliff never told me that. He said I was pretty sometimes, but it didn’t seem like he meant it.”

“We can kill Cliff, right? That’s legal. He’s not technically human since he has no heart, so there shouldn’t be a problem,” Ursula said.

“Stop.
It’s fine. I don’t care about Cliff. Cliff is history. The point is, Oliver is going to leave me.”

“Is he?” Emily said, and Ursula said, “He’s never stayed with a woman. He’s not exactly a good ca
ndidate for monogamy.”

“Who says he’d leave you?” Emily said. “You’re di
fferent, Laney. I’m not saying you should do this, but you’re just avoiding this out of fear.”

“Please,” I said. “It’s not fear. It’s practically science. He’s never been in a relationship. He uses women. And it’s me, not some s
upermodel.

“And it would hurt when it ended. Maybe more than it did with Cliff, and I need less, not more. I need less of everything. And I just remembered that I wasn’t su
pposed to tell you guys about me and Oliver kissing,” I said, covering my face with my hands.

“What? Why? Do we get to kill Oliver too?” Emily asked.

“No. He’s just—this situation is weird. He’s embarrassed. It was a mistake. And he doesn’t feel that way about me,” I said.

“Okay,” Ursula
said, her voice thick with regret. “Let’s not talk about Oliver ever again.”

“Let’s agree to only talk about superficial things,” Emily said, “Like why you two idiots chose to eat sa
lads for lunch.”

“Oh good.
Does that mean I get to critique wedding dresses with cowboy boots?” Ursula said, excited.

“Damn it. I guess
so,” Emily said.