Page 84 of Oz
I sigh and fall on my back in a dramatic fashion. “Whyhave you brought it in here? Are you taunting me?”
I laugh as he twists over and straddles me. He pins my shoulders down, the strain falling away from his face and his eyes sparkling. “There are some very interesting articles. I’ve even seen two positions that we haven’t tried yet.”
“You’re actually subjugating me with the tool of my humiliation.”
He shakes his head. “I somehow feel that I’m a lot more interesting in your head.”
I shrug. “You can’t help it,” I say cheekily and then shout out laughing as he falls on me. The laughter turns to moans and panting, hurried breaths, but it stays underneath, running like a sparkling river through my blood.
Chapter
Seventeen
Be my Oz again, because that Oz is utterly perfect to me the way he is
Silas
The sea pounds onto the sand of the cove and I exhale in satisfaction, lying back and resting my head on my jumper. “I love this place.”
“Me too,” Henry murmurs.
I crack one eye open. He’s staring out to sea, his expression contemplative.
“What’s up?” I ask, coming up onto my elbows.
He shoots me a grin. “I love you,” he says affectionately.
I smile at him, feeling warmth run through me for this brother of mine. Quirky and funny and kind. “I love you too. What brought that on?”
He shrugs and stares back out to sea again. “Memories, I suppose. Brought on by being here.”
I sigh. “It wasn’t the place’s fault, Henry. We just had shitty people for parents.”
“I know that,” he protests. “I also know how much you love it here.”
“I do,” I say simply. “It’s home.”
“I know, and I’m so cross with you.”
“What?” I sit up. “Why, for fuck’s sake?”
“Because you’re tied here. How on earth are you going to have a life with all of Dad’s shit piling up around you? I’m so fucking angry that you didn’t tell me.”
“How did you know?” I hesitate. “Did Oz tell you?”
He huffs. “No, of course he didn’t. As if he’d let anything slip that’s private to you. Mother took a lot of pleasure telling me over breakfast this morning.”
“Shit!”
“Oh, you can say that again and do better. How could you not tell me about the mess he left us in?”
“Me,” I correct gently.
He sighs heavily and crossly. “No. It’sus, Silas. I might not want anything to do with this place particularly. My home’s with Ivo. But I do want something to do withyouand I’d really rather you didn’t work and worry yourself into a fucking early grave like he did. I love you and I want you around.” He glares at me. “I’m giving you back the money you gave me after father’s death.”
I jerk. “You are fucking not. That’s yours.”
“He didn’t leave it to me.”
