Page 38 of Lotus

Only, this timehegets stopped.

He’s halted by some tipsy chick, whose cocktail is splashing over the rim of her cup as she sways back and forth, either to the music or from her notable intoxication. I swerve through the mass of bodies, trying to hear some of the conversation.

“You’rehim, right? The missing boy?” she asks, twirling her hair with her unoccupied hand. It soon leaves her strawberry locks to fiddle with the collar of Oliver’s striped button-down shirt. His eyes trail her administrations as he backs away, appearing uncomfortable. “You look amazing. I saw you on the news, but… wow. You’ve very attractive.”

“Oh, I… appreciate the flattery.”

She giggles, tossing her head back. “You talk funny.” He backs away again, but she doesn’t take the hint. “Can I make you a drink? Or maybe we can go somewhere to talk?”

That’s my cue.

I barge over to the twosome, throwing my arm around Oliver’s waist, then say, not so quietly, “How about that dark corner we talked about?”

“I’d enjoy that very much.”

The woman offers an apologetic smile, accepting her fate. “Sorry. I didn’t know he was taken.”

When she disappears into the crowd, Oliver turns to me, my arm still loosely draped around his back. “Taken?” he wonders, eyebrows raised in question. “Was she alluding to my abduction?”

“She assumed we were sleeping together,” I explain, a smile lifting.

“Oh.” The question doesn’t leave his face. “That’s an odd conclusion to make.”

A chuckle slips out when I realize he doesn’t understand the context. “She thought we were having sex.”

Blush stains his cheeks.

Damn, that’s adorable.

Oliver tucks his chin to his chest and repeats, “Oh.”

“Come on,” I grin, lowering my arm to lace his fingers with mine. I lead him down the two flights of stairs to the den, where there are only a few small groups of people mingling and conversing. “I was serious about that dark corner.”

My hand is still tucked in Oliver’s large palm, and I’m briefly taken back in time to when we were kids, our hands often connected in a similar fashion as we chased fireflies and birds and dandelion wishes. The memories hold tight as I guide him to the unoccupied loveseat, and we both plop down, finally letting go of each other. My knees draw up on the cushion when I twist to face him, and my eyes twinkle into his over the spout of my beer. “What made you join in on the festivities? I didn’t think I’d see you all night.”

Oliver’s gaze follows the beer bottle as it catches my mouth, his tongue poking out to slick his bottom lip. “I was listening to an assortment of songs you recommended, and it made me want to see you,” he replies softly. His focus trails over me with tender appreciation, and he adds, “You look lovely.”

I duck my head at the compliment, my belly buzzing at his words as I take in my periwinkle sundress and white sandals. My lips are cherry red, giving the ensemble a festive flare. “I clean up okay,” I shrug modestly. “And so do you. I thought I was going to have to peel Strawberry Shortcake off of you.”

“She was very friendly.”

Part of me wonders if I overstepped by interfering. Maybe Oliver was enjoying the attention—maybe a little female flirtation is exactly what he needs to help bring him out of his shell more. He’s made impressive progress over the last few months, but he’s still extremely reserved and introverted.

Unless…

“So… awkward question time,” I blurt, watching as his one knee bobs, his legs parted in front of him. “Are you attracted to women or men?” A gulp strains in my throat, my cheeks flushing warm and red. “Or both?”

He turns to me, his eyebrows creased, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “Women.”

I nod, oddly relieved by his answer. “Okay. Well… do you have a type?” I cough as I shift on the couch. “You know, do you think of anyone in particular?”

Oliver’s head tilts slightly through a quizzical frown, visibly processing my query. “Are you referring to masturbation?”

The heat engulfs me from toes to top.

Jesus. I was not expecting that reply.

At all.

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