“Get dressed, Leigh.” I snatched my hoodie off the ground and left her in the bathroom to find Dex.
He was in the kitchen with his bodyguards.
“Well?” he asked with a smirk.
“She’s a virgin.”
He took my hand and brought my fingers to his nose. “Fuck, you actually did it.” I jerked my hand away. “Faint but delish.”
“Don’t fucking touch her.”
“Did you get her off, Oliver? Don’t tell me you left her high and dry here with a house full of horny blokes.”
“I’m leaving. Your cash is already in your car.”
“I’m calling Ghost’s right-hand man and telling him I have a Virgin for sale. His turn around time is a few months or so. Your job is to make sure she stays a virgin until then and not to disappear again. Keep your phone on you.”
What should’ve only taken an hour to get back home had taken me three. I had to make sure no one was following me. This was the only home Mia has known. I wasn’t going to let anyone take that away from her.
I walked into our home, greeted by a fire burning in the fireplace and the living room walls a lovely calming moss green. All the furniture was back in its original state, and my brows lifted as I looked around. We’d been in the house for a little over two weeks now, and Mia set a few framed polaroid pictures from Dolor over the mantle. I walked by, admiring our first picture we’d ever taken in the center, surrounded by a photo of Mia, Zeke, and me, Jake and Mia, and one of just me writing in my journal. The piano was open, and my heart soothed inside my chest, knowing she was finally able to play again since we lost Zeke.
“Mia,” I called out, dropping my keys in the wooden tray over the coffee table. I pulled off my hoodie and peeked in the kitchen before making my way to our bedroom.
The shower was going, and I removed the rest of my clothes, wanting to join her.
“Ollie?” she asked, hearing me from the bedroom through the cracked bathroom door.
Completely naked, I opened the bathroom door all the way and steam slammed into me. “Yeah, love. It’s me.”
“What took you so long?” she asked, and I pulled the curtain back and stepped in. “And what do you think?”
I looked her up and down. Water ran off her lashes and the tip of her nose as soap buds splattered over her ivory skin. Green paint was stuck in her wet hair and smeared against her cheek. “Perfection.” I brushed my nose against hers, not wanting to touch her entirely until I washed this horrid night off me.
She pressed her lips together in a glowing smile. “I’m talking about the paint color.”
“Oh, that?” I asked, squeezing soap over the loofah and quickly washed my body. I shrugged. “Eh.” Mia shoved my shoulder, and I wrapped her into a bear hug. “I’m kidding, love. I love it.”
Mia lifted onto her tiptoes and kissed me under the stream. “Thank you for coming home.”
“Mia,” I laughed, “Why do you say thank you like I did you a favor?”
She lifted her shoulder. “Because you did.”
IT HAD BEEN over a month since I’d arrived back into the UK, and Ollie and I kept to ourselves, for the most part, making up for the lost time and making the house a home. He had another book signing coming up, and I was beyond excited to sit beside him and watch him with people who read his work.
It was a short walk into Surrey where I would finally meet Travis and Summer. The sun didn’t set until after nine at night during the summers, and the clouds lifted, allowing the sun to shine over us and promising little to no rain. Most of the buildings were either made of brick or cobblestone, outlined with wooden green or white details, and shingled roofs with chimneys poking from the top. White flowers bloomed from the cracks of the storefronts, and I peeked through the windows of the quaint shops to see charming knickknacks, hand-carved details, and hometown feels. I closed my eyes, breathing in the fresh air with a hint of flowers in the rain and gripped Ollie’s hand. “I love it here.”
“This is your home, Mia. You were born here.” His comment immediately made me think of Lynch, and I wondered if he knew I was back or wanted to see me. Ollie paused at the crosswalk, and I glanced up, admiring him and his style. He dressed like he didn’t care, in his hunter green pants, loose white tee, and a fedora.
I picked up the bottom of my gray cotton dress that met my sandaled feet as we walked across a cobblestone street to the other side. It was close to sixty-five degrees today, but I pulled my leather jacket tighter around me when a gust of wind swirled in the air.
“Do you want to stop for coffee?” Ollie asked, noticing the chill. “We’re almost there but there’s a coffee shop around the corner.”
“I’m okay.” I smiled, and he kissed the side of my head.
We made it to the restaurant, which classified as a pub, and found a seat outside under the trellis.
If we had the choice, we sat outside. Ollie didn’t do well in confined spaces with his emotional intensity, and being too close to other people set off his anxiety. This past month, I’d learned more and more about him and how people’s vibes could affect him physically, mentally, and emotionally. After two weeks of being here, we’d both agreed to continue seeing a psychologist, together and separately. It took a few tries to find one we both liked, but we’d finally found one in London from a referral Dr. Conway gave us. She’d searched high and low for someone familiar with Ollie’s hyper-sensitivity and even pre-interviewed the lady over the phone just in case.
I’d confessed openly about my wicked thoughts, the ones of murder, but only to the counselor. I hadn’t told Ollie about my demented dreams of death, and how it had been following me since I’d killed my uncle. Ethan had understood, but would Ollie ever know the sick delusions inside my head? Would he ever understand that a single threat made me want to rip someone apart and watch them bleed out at my feet with a smile on my face? Or how the morbid thoughts kept me up at night while he was gone, and he was the only one who could sooth me with his poetic lullaby?
Ollie stood from his chair as soon as he spotted Travis and Summer, and I followed suit.
“This,” Ollie looked down at me with a smile, “is Mia.”
“It’s about time,” Travis said, pulling me in for a hug. “You know, Mia. I’ve been waiting a long time to meet you.”
“I heard you tried to tell him I was dead. You wanted him to give up on me.”
Travis frowned, shooting a glance over at Ollie. Summer laughed, noticing my sarcasm.
“I like her already,” Summer announced, coming in for a hug of her own.
“You look like you’re about to pop!” I tried hugging her back, but it was awkward with her big belly. “How far along are you?
“Four more bloody weeks. I’m due July 21st, and I’m so ready,” she whined, rubbing over her belly in the flowy paisley-printed blouse hugging her stomach. Summer had golden hair and big, bright blue eyes. Her pale skin glowed against her navy shirt, and she set down her umbrella and took a seat. “Oh, fuck, Oliver. You didn’t!” Summer grabbed my hand and looked at my ring, “You fucking did,” she narrowed her eyes at Travis. “I’m having your baby, you bastard, and Mia already has a ring,” Summer scolded Travis.