Page 44 of The One I Need
And the shocking thing about that is I don’t hate it.
When I told him this was only ever going to be friends nearly a month ago, I assumed he would maybe try to hang around for a bit, see if I was actually serious, then slowly, but surely, go about his way. But no. This man has not only burrowed his way into my daily life, he’s become my best friend. Well, my guy best friend. Whom I’ve seen naked. And whom I know can eat pussy like a champ.
I think about that more than I should.
Though if I’m being honest, it’s kind of nice having someone check on me. The only people who check on me regularly are Hazel and Jules. And usually that’s to make sure I stayed hydrated and fed. Granted, that’s what Oliver does a lot as well, but add in some mundane texting and random conversations, and you have yourself a new go-to person.
As the song finishes, I call him, because I need to know when he managed to do this.
“So either one of two things have happened,” he says instead of a hello. “Either your order is wrong or your playlist finally played my additions.”
“Additions? As in plural?”
This makes him laugh. “Which one did you get?”
“The one about Michael J. Fox having a bunch of hits.”
“Ah…a classic,” he says. “Just wait. There are more from where that came from.”
I fall back into my seat, letting the soothing tone of Oliver’s voice relax me as I wait at a stoplight. Do I still find his voice sexy? Yes. Even though we’re just friends I all of a sudden didn’t quit having a pulse. But now I’ve come to associate it with comfort.
I won’t tell anyone, but it’s nice.
Since I moved from my small town in Nebraska, the only person I ever remotely had this kind of friendship with is Hazel. Hell, even back then I never had a ton of friends. I did have my sister, who used to check on me regularly. But the longer I’ve stayed away from the town I have very few fond memories of, the less frequent our communication has been. Occasionally, she’ll send me a picture of my niece and nephew. Sometimes she wants to make sure everything’s okay. But it’s been months since either of those happened. Which is fine. I get it. We’re living two different lives. Just like we should be.
“You know,” I say. “You didn’t have to order me food. I am capable of feeding myself.”
“I don’t know about that,” he says. “Last night you said you ate a carrot for dinner. Did you even use ranch dressing?”
“Of course not,” I say. “And it wasthreecarrots.”
“Well, then, that’s a whole new ballgame.”
“Whatever,” I say as the light turns green. “How was your day?”
“Fine,” he says. “I think I’m counting down the days until the end of the school year more than the kids are.”
“What’s it down to?”
“Three school days. One half-day for teachers. And then freedom.”
“Nice. What are the summer plans?” I pull into my parking garage and slide into my parking space, which is right next to the elevators.
“For the first week, sleep. Relaxation. After a while, football practices will begin, so that will keep me busy. In between that I’ll probably start the expansion to the back deck I’ve been wanting to tackle.”
“You can build a deck?”
“Does that surprise you?”
“You don’t strike me as the handy kind of guy.”
“Don’t let my boyishly good looks fool you. I’m a wiz with a hammer,” he says. “Plus, I look hot as hell in a tool belt.”
I laugh as I walk out of the elevator onto my floor. “I’m sure you do.”
It only takes me a few steps down my hall before the aroma of the Italian dish hits my nostrils. Damn, that smells good.
“So that’s it?” I ask as I let myself into my condo. “Football, sleep, and construction? No traveling? No fun outings?”
