Page 196 of The Casualty of Us
“Yeah.” She nods against my shoulder. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Freckles.”
I set her down just as Ollie snorts, “Suck up.” The sound of the smack coming next is followed a littleoomphbefore he mumbles, “Great present, Flynn.”
O giggles against me before stepping back, holding the books close to her chest like she doesn’t want to ever let go of them and making me scoff with amusement. I save her from having to put them down since she’s acting like Gollum with the ring and reach for the Cartier box myself. Unwrapping the ribbon from it and popping the wax seal they add before I pull out the red leather box from within.
I look back up, playing around with the box in my hands while explaining, “I asked your dad if I could be the one to replace the jewelry you sold for me.” She blinks at me, blue eyes going wide before moving between her dad, the box, and me a couple of times. “It’s not exactly what you sold, apparently, but I thought it was more fitting these days.” I pop the box open to reveal the gold cuff inlaid with tiny pieces of onyx and diamonds, its band almost meeting in the middle and one of the sides sculpted into the delicate head of the panther that’s winking up at us through its emerald eyes. “The first of three, to remind you that you’re always the hunter and never the prey.”
“Hayes.” Her lips part around my name, brows falling as she stares at it. “This is a lot more than—”
“Ophelia,” I cut her off, not wanting her to gain some steam down the price tag road and instead pressing. “Do you like it?”
A beat passes before her eyes lift back to me, cheeks a little red as she breathes out softly. “I love it almost as much as you.” Her nose wrinkles. “Well, and the books, honestly, and probably Ollie, but—” My lips lift as she takes a quick breath. “It’s stunning, thank you.”
“Always, baby.” I drop my lips to hers with a quick kiss before she jolts, jumping back from me with her eyes going wide again.
“Fuck.”
“Ophelia Sage!”
“Sorry.” She cringes before looking down helplessly at the books and then to me. “Here, I love you, and you’re perfect, but take these real quick for me.”
She doesn’t give me much choice in the matter when she somehow manages to even shove them carefully into my chest, only waiting long enough for me to wrap a hand around them before turning back to her seat.
“Ollie, you have to open your present now, or you’re going to be late.” She picks her phone up, quickly swiping until a soft ding fills the room, and looks up at her brother. “Check your phone.”
I turn my head in time to catch the confusion that takes over his face as he goes to dig his phone out of his pocket with their mother looking over his shoulder and following along. He pulls up whatever it is that O just sent him, going still and staring down at his phone with the confusion etching itself even deeper.
His eyes rise back up to her with a questioning look and a quiet word. “Atlanta?”
“Your plane takes off in just over three hours, so I’d get moving if I was you.” She gives him a grin. “Go get the girl, Ollie.”
He continues to stare at her, the hair along my neck prickling as they seem to tap into their own frequency, and a whole minute or so goes by before he blurts, “What if she won’t let me in?”
“Her mother is apparently a Southern debutante, and you’re Oliver Fitzroy,” she snorts, rolling her eyes. “I’m sure you’ll be able to figure out a way to get your foot in the door.”
“And then?”
“Sneak a drink at the airport and get all in your feels.” She shrugs, waving a hand at him to get on with it. “Think up a really good speech on the plane.”
“Fuck.” His brows fall. “Really?”
“Really.” She nods, lips lifting again, and the next words leave her as if they’re the most obvious thing in the world. “One of us can’t be happy without the other one too, silly.”
“Not to interrupt,” her mother drones, soft sarcasm to her voice drawing both of their gazes. “But where are you trying to ship your brother off to?”
“He messed around with Marley and made her feel cheap,” O tosses back, pointedly ignoring the look of horror on Ollie’s face. “I’m honestly not sure how he managed it after pining away for her for over a year, but here we are.”
“Well,” her mom sighs slowly, exaggerating the sound before lifting a brow while glancing at Ollie. “I expect the speech to be quite good in that case, darling.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He nods quickly, another beat passing before he shoots up off the couch and looks around aimlessly. “Fuck.”
“Language.”
“Fu—sorry.” He shoots his mom a guilty look. “Okay, I’m going.”
His head turns back to O, but she’s already moving, both of them coming together in a hug that I think will probably always be like two parts of a whole in its own way.
