Page 101 of Rough Around the Hedges

Brilliant.

She clearly had a bee in her bonnet about something this morning, and I was certain I didn’t want to hear the buzzing that would result from it.

I stepped into my office and sat behind my desk, watching as Mum delicately perched on the edge of the desk.

“Ah,” she said, quickly getting up and wiping off her backside as if she’d sat in something unpleasant. “Is there anywhere safe to sit in this office, or have you sullied every possible surface with your extracurricular activities?”

“Mother?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Sit down or get out.”

She responded to my glare by scooting to the corner of the desk. She gave it a thorough check before perching on that instead of the front. “This should be fine,” she murmured, glancing around.

What did she think I did in here? Filmed pornos?

All right, so Rose and I had done it on the desk once, but it wasn’t as if it hadn’t been cleaned since.

Besides, the woman was an uninvited guest.

I put on my glasses and booted up my computer while waiting for her to say whatever was on her mind. She wasn’t going to talk to me until she was ready, and I’d long learnt not to bother trying to wrestle it out of her.

It’d just piss me off more.

I checked and replied to three emails before she finally spoke.

“You could just tell her, you know.”

My fingers stilled over the keyboard. “Tell who what?”

“Tell Rose you have feelings for her.”

Ah.

“That… isn’t something she’d ever care to hear from me,” I replied, switching from my email to a file Luke had sent over for my approval. “If I had feelings for her, that is.”

“You have feelings for her.”

“Your imagination is getting away with you again, Mother.”

“Didn’t I ever teach you not to lie, Oliver?”

I clenched my jaw and slammed my hands on the desk, pushing away from it. I pulled off my glasses and glared at her, meeting her gentle gaze in the process.

Shit, what did she want me to do? Hire a plane and have them write it in the sky?

What does it fucking matter?

I knew what I was to Rose. I knew how she saw me. These feelings that were blooming inside me were ridiculous. Irrelevant. Useless. I could offer her the most romantic confession of love in the world and she’d probably wrinkle her face in disgust, laugh, and tell me to fuck off.

She hated me.

And rightfully so.

No matter how many times we laughed together or how she melted under my touch, I couldn’t let myself forget that.

If I did, I’d only hurt myself.

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