A rap at my door caused me to wince. Crawling away from the door, I waited.
Another knock.
“Mia, it’s me.”
I jumped to my feet and unlocked the door. As soon as it opened, I flung myself around Ollie, wrapping my arms around his neck and digging my head into his chest. He stroked my hair with one hand while wrapping the other around my back as he held me tight. “Shit, Mia. What happened?”
I was only able to shake my head, so he walked me into my room and closed the door behind us. “We talked about this. You have to talk to me,” he said, pulling my head off his chest and searching my face. “Please, this is fucking killing me …”
“I can’t, Ollie. I wish I could, but I can’t. Not this.” The tears fell rapidly. “I can’t tell you and it’s for your own good.”
“You keep saying that, but it doesn’t change the fact I can’t do anything to fix this until you talk to me.”
“Just read to me.”
And after I changed into my sweatpants and pulled his hoodie over my head, he did.
He read chapter after chapter, threading his fingers down my hair and over my back. His comforting touch soothed me from the moment he was unaware of.
Forcing myself to focus on Noah and Allie’s troubles, my thoughts were slowly stolen by Oscar. He invaded my reading time, my moments with Ollie, my brain.
If I allowed this to go on any further, it might bring me back to a place I had worked so hard to get out of. Was my mind capable of building a switch again, then flipping it? Would Oscar bring back my walls? I wasn’t going to make the same mistake again. Telling someone was my only option. Dr. Conway was my only option. Either she wouldn’t believe me, and I would be forced back to the psych ward permanently, or all the lights inside me would shut off again if Oscar went too far. Either way, I would be defeated.
But what if she did believe me?
In two weeks, she would return.
I only needed to get by for two more weeks.
“I know something Ollie doesn’t know,” Maddie sang as she approached me in the hall. Christmas was in six days, but Dolor didn’t necessarily reek of holiday spirit. There was a small tree set up in the corner of the mess hall, but its lack of lights and ornaments made it look like a bad joke. It had been a donation—a pity donation by someone who only wanted to feel good about themselves during the holidays. Without classes to keep us occupied, and half the staff gone, the campus felt like a ghost town.
Tilting my head in Maddie’s direction, I wondered if entertaining her childish games was even worth it. “Good for you, Maddie.” Nope, not worth it. Maddie was never worth it.
“And I know something you don’t know,” she bit back.
Her comment stopped me in my tracks, and I crossed my arms over my chest, taking her in. The devilish smile on her face, the satisfaction in her eyes, her posture, it all screamed the fact she couldn’t wait for whatever she had planned to come to a head. “Whatever you have to say, just say it.”
Ollie appeared beside me and slung his arm around my shoulder. “Maddie starting her games again?” He looked down to me without so much as paying her a lick of attention.
“Trying to.”
“Ah, she’s reaching, love. Come on,” he said into my ear and pulled me away from her toxic antics.
Maddie’s voice bounced through the hall as we put more distance between her. “He will never forgive you for what you did!”
I jerked my head around right before Ollie opened the door to my room and pulled me inside. “Fuck her,” he breathed as soon as the door closed. “Remember what I told you about jealousy? Well, she’s jealous of you. Forget her.”
“What do you think she meant by it, though?”
“Who the hell cares? She’s like a little rat, crawling and scratching at whatever she can get her claws on.” Ollie weaved his long fingers through his thick hair before cupping the back of his neck. “Let’s not waste any more time on her. Christmas is in six days, and I was going to wait until then to give you this, but I’m like a kid when it comes to these things.” Ollie dug his hand into his back pocket.
He groaned. “Shit. Hold on.” He turned around while I sat at the edge of the bed and watched his shoulder blades move against his white shirt.
When he turned back around, he dangled a white origami rose from his finger by a ribbon attached. My eyes darted back and forth between the rose and his lopsided grin as I brought my hand to my mouth.
“You like it?” he asked, crouching down in front of me.
“Ollie …”
He took my hand from my mouth and laid it flat before placing the rose inside. “Truth is, I’d never cared much for Christmas. Most people don’t know it’s a busy season for prostitutes.” He shrugged. “Growing up, I spent all day on Christmas in a bloody closet, and as I got older, the day only got worse. But with you, I want to experience everything. And when we leave here, together, we’ll have a tree, lights, music. A proper Christmas. And this here is going to be the first ornament on our tree.” He grinned. “If the paper survives.”
I ran my fingers over the delicate edges. “Where did you … How did you learn to do this?”
“Zeke knows origami. I went to the library the other day and tore a page from one of my favorite books and Zeke taught me the rest.”
Zeke. My heart swelled. Ollie kissed my forehead.
“I didn’t know we were … I didn’t get you anything,” I quickly said, then let out a deep sigh. “I always hated Christmas, too.”
But suddenly, I wanted to decorate a tree, play Christmas music on the piano for him, send out ridiculous Christmas cards from Ollie & Mia, and surprise him with gifts, wanting to experience all of it—with him.
Ollie removed the rose from my palm, stood, and set it carefully on my suitcase. “I already have you. What more can I ask for?” His eyes held the daydream look, and I knew what was coming next. “Well, if you really want to give me something … you, on top of me, naked, always works.”
There it was, and when he talked like this, it was no underlying joke. He wanted me now. This very moment. No filter, always telling me what was on his mind.
Me. On top of him. Naked.
He tilted his head, spiked an eyebrow, and his eyes held on strong. My insides pulsed as the tingling sensation ignited. Leaning over, I wrapped my hands around his legs and pulled him toward me between my knees. Glancing up at him standing over me, I slipped my fingers into the waistband of his joggers.
“Mia …” he breathed. My name falling from his lips meant everything. It was a beg, a plea, a demand, a promise, a relief, a praise, a question, an answer, a longing, a desire.