Page 10 of The One I Need
Because Oliver is a relationship kind of guy. And I am most definitely not that kind of girl.
I knew from the moment we started talking that Oliver wasn’t the kind of guy who did hookups. That theory was confirmed when we had our discussions about marriage. It did throw me for a bit when he asked me back to his room. The porn-star level sex also raised a few doubts. But now in the morning light it’s confirmed, Oliver is a one-woman kind of man. And I’m a no-man kind of woman.
Oliver sits up and looks down at me, his eyes so caring and wishful. I hate that I’m about to take that spark of hope away. But I have to be up front with him. I have many flaws, but leading someone on is not one of them. If anything I’m too honest. But I think it’s better to be honest than to lie or string along. That’s how people get hurt.
“Oliver,” I say as I sit up, making sure my front is covered with the sheet. Yes, I know he’s seen, and licked, every inch of me, but I need this extra layer of armor. “Last night was great.”
“Here it comes,” he says as he dramatically falls back onto the bed, his forearm covering his eyes.
His thick…veiny…forearm.
Focus Elizabeth. Don’t let the arm porn distract you.
“If you knew it was coming, then why did you ask?”
He brings his arm down and looks up at me. “I had to shoot my shot.”
“I appreciate that,” I say. “But I don’t lead on, especially with guys I like.”
He pops back up to his elbow with the energy of a golden retriever who just got told he was getting a treat. “So you’re saying you like me?”
“Easy there, skippy. Yes, I like you. And it’s because I like you that I can’t see you again.”
He raises an eyebrow. “That’s a new way of saying ‘it’s not you, it’s me.’”
“But it is,” I continue. “I could see you again. Maybe sober this time. I’m sure we’d have a lovely time, laugh as much as we did last night, and end it with another round of phenomenal sex.”
“I’m failing to see a problem in what you just said.”
I let out a sigh. “The problem is that I can never give you what you want.”
“How do you know what I want?”
I tilt my head. Is he really going to make me say it? “You’re a relationship guy Oliver.”
“Says who?”
Really? He’s going to continue this game? “Oliver…You asked me to marry you last night. You said that marriage was your end game. You cuddle. You’re a relationship guy if I ever saw one.”
He lets out a defeated sigh. “And I’m guessing as you say all of this, and since you called marriage a scam, that you aren’t looking for one?”
I shake my head. “I’m not built for the long term. I’m sorry.”
He nods his head as he reaches for my hand. I’m so shocked by the motion, I don’t fight him. Instead I take in the feel of our fingers laced together, knowing this will likely be the last time I feel this. “Thank you for being honest.”
“You’re welcome. And I’m sorry. I am.”
He shakes his head. “Don’t be. Never apologize for who you are.”
I push down the emotions that are trying to bubble to the surface. This isn’t the first time I’ve had this conversation. It’s never easy. Hell, I had one guy who cried. Like full on ugly tears.
But with Oliver? I don’t know, but I almost wish I didn’t have to have this conversation. I haven’t had a serious relationship since I was eighteen years old. And that’s by design. If you’re not in a relationship, you can’t get hurt. No one else can have a say in your happiness. No one can control you.
And for the past sixteen years, that has served me just fine. But, if I ever were looking for a relationship, Oliver wouldn’t be a bad option. A man who’s sweet and caring in the streets but a freak in the sheets? That wouldn’t be bad at all…
But I’m not looking for a relationship. Not now. Not in a month. Not in a year. So as much as I’ll miss not having a second turn with this man, it’s the price I’m willing to pay.
I hear a buzzing coming from somewhere. At first it’s faint, but as it continues, I feel like it’s getting louder and louder.
