Page 42 of Oliver

Emery

Sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting soft lines across the sheets. I stretched slowly, sore in the best way, and smiled before I even opened my eyes.

Oliver’s arm was draped over my waist, his breath warm against the back of my neck. We were wrapped around each other like we were afraid to let go—even in sleep.

I let my eyes drift shut again, content.

That lasted exactly four seconds.

Knock knock knock.

“Dad?” Olly’s voice called through the door. “Are you guys awake? I’m hungry. Like... starving. Like I might die.”

Oliver groaned behind me.

“I told him nine o’clock,” he muttered. “It’s not even seven.”

“Maybe he thinks it’s an emergency,” I said, biting back a laugh.

Olly knocked again. “Emery? Are you alive? I had a dream you turned into a mermaid and swam away. Youbetter notbe a mermaid.”

I snorted, sitting up and reaching for a robe. “Guess the honeymoon’s over.”

Oliver flopped onto his back with a sigh. “I love him, but he’s got a gift for timing.”

I padded over to the door and cracked it open. Olly stood there in pajama pants and a t-shirt with a dragon on it, his hair sticking up in every direction.

When he saw me, his face lit up.

“Hey!” he said, throwing his arms around me without hesitation. “Youdidn’tturn into a mermaid!”

“Nope. Still human.” I kissed the top of his head. “And very glad to see you.”

“I’m glad you’re not gone. That guy who hurt you better not come back. Because Dad said if anyone tried anything again, he’d break all their bones and thenRiverwould break the rest.”

“That sounds about right,” Oliver called from the bed.

Olly nodded seriously, then leaned in. “Did you know Faron said he can shoot a rattlesnake from, like, two miles away? With a potato gun?”

I blinked. “A... potato gun?”

“Yeah. I’m not sure it’s true, but I believed it when he said it.”

I grinned. “Sounds like Faron.”

Olly looked up at me, his voice a little softer now. “Are you okay?”

I crouched down to his level and took his hands. “I am. I was scared, but I’m safe now. And being here with you and your dad... it makes me feel really safe.”

He nodded solemnly, then said, “Cool. Can we make pancakes?”

“Absolutely.”

“Can we put chocolate chips in them?”

“Is that even a question?”

He let out a triumphant whoop and bolted down the hall toward the kitchen, yelling, “Dibs on first pancake!”

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