made the suggestion.
They
ordered pizza and garlic bread, then chatted about the play while they waited
for it. Once it was ready, they took it back to his apartment, and he was
certain no one had followed them.
She
whistled softly as he gave her a quick tour of his place. “Oliver, this is
incredible. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Thank
you.”
“You
could fit half my building in here.”
“It’s
a lot of space, but I wanted something that made me feel as if I was in a
house, not simply a box inside a high rise.”
“You
don’t have to justify it to me. I’d look for the same thing if I could afford
it.”
He
bit his tongue to stop himself from suggesting she could move in tonight if she
wanted. Too much, too soon.
They
returned to the kitchen, and she sat next to him at the counter while they ate
their pizza and garlic bread. “Here we go again,” she said. “Only instead of
onions and peppers, this time it’ll be garlic and sausage.”
He
laughed. “At least we’re consistent.” Oliver was desperate to find out what she
wanted to tell him, but he didn’t want to spoil the mood.
As
if reading his mind, she drank the rest of her water and then cleared her throat.
“There are some things I need to tell you before we … well, before we do what I
assume we’re going to do later.”
“I
have no expectations about tonight.” It was right to say so, although he prayed
they would make love. He wanted her so badly, but what was most important was
her happiness, and that she felt safe with him.
“I
know you don’t, and I can’t tell you how much that means to me, but the truth
is that I do want to make love to you, Oliver. I can’t, though, without telling
you this first. I just hope you won’t change your mind once you hear it.”
Whoa. What the hell had someone done to
her? “Blair, I’m here to listen, whatever it is. And I won’t change my mind
about you. Nothing could make me do that.”
The
look she gave him tore him apart. It was a combination of hope and uncertainty.
He took her hand, not surprised to find it cool. “Come on. Let’s go get
comfortable so we can talk.”
Cleaning
up the remnants of dinner could wait.
Chapter
Eight
Blair
was more afraid right now than she’d been at twelve, the first time one of her
mother’s boyfriends tried to crawl into bed with her. But this was Oliver, not
some drunk stranger her mother had brought home.
She’d
known this man for seven years, and she was here with him, in this ridiculously
lavish and expensive apartment. They’d eaten pizza, and now they sat side by
side on the sofa. The expression on his face showed interest. He really wanted
to hear this, even though he had no clue what it was. How could any woman not
fall head over heels in love a man this charming and patient?
“Okay.”
She shifted slightly so she was facing him, and then tucked her legs underneath
her body. “I guess starting at the beginning would be best.”
“Start
wherever you need to start.”
The
place was so quiet and comfortable. It felt homey, despite the lavish
furnishings and decor. That sensation had to be coming from Oliver. He
projected an aura of intelligence, peace, and security. Those last two were
desperately needed right now.
“I
don’t remember my father. My parents divorced when I was three, or so I was
told by my mother. She drank a lot, and then started taking pills, too. We
never really talked. She didn’t pay much attention to me other than to make
sure I went to school and ate something once in a while. I learned early on to
take care of myself.”
“That
explains why you’re so resourceful and can work without constant supervision.”
“I
suppose so.” She took a deep breath. You
can do this. “She had a lot of boyfriends. They came and went more often
than I bothered to keep track of, and for the most part they ignored me. I
always suspected my presence might have been the reason most of them
They
ordered pizza and garlic bread, then chatted about the play while they waited
for it. Once it was ready, they took it back to his apartment, and he was
certain no one had followed them.
She
whistled softly as he gave her a quick tour of his place. “Oliver, this is
incredible. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Thank
you.”
“You
could fit half my building in here.”
“It’s
a lot of space, but I wanted something that made me feel as if I was in a
house, not simply a box inside a high rise.”
“You
don’t have to justify it to me. I’d look for the same thing if I could afford
it.”
He
bit his tongue to stop himself from suggesting she could move in tonight if she
wanted. Too much, too soon.
They
returned to the kitchen, and she sat next to him at the counter while they ate
their pizza and garlic bread. “Here we go again,” she said. “Only instead of
onions and peppers, this time it’ll be garlic and sausage.”
He
laughed. “At least we’re consistent.” Oliver was desperate to find out what she
wanted to tell him, but he didn’t want to spoil the mood.
As
if reading his mind, she drank the rest of her water and then cleared her throat.
“There are some things I need to tell you before we … well, before we do what I
assume we’re going to do later.”
“I
have no expectations about tonight.” It was right to say so, although he prayed
they would make love. He wanted her so badly, but what was most important was
her happiness, and that she felt safe with him.
“I
know you don’t, and I can’t tell you how much that means to me, but the truth
is that I do want to make love to you, Oliver. I can’t, though, without telling
you this first. I just hope you won’t change your mind once you hear it.”
Whoa. What the hell had someone done to
her? “Blair, I’m here to listen, whatever it is. And I won’t change my mind
about you. Nothing could make me do that.”
The
look she gave him tore him apart. It was a combination of hope and uncertainty.
He took her hand, not surprised to find it cool. “Come on. Let’s go get
comfortable so we can talk.”
Cleaning
up the remnants of dinner could wait.
Chapter
Eight
Blair
was more afraid right now than she’d been at twelve, the first time one of her
mother’s boyfriends tried to crawl into bed with her. But this was Oliver, not
some drunk stranger her mother had brought home.
She’d
known this man for seven years, and she was here with him, in this ridiculously
lavish and expensive apartment. They’d eaten pizza, and now they sat side by
side on the sofa. The expression on his face showed interest. He really wanted
to hear this, even though he had no clue what it was. How could any woman not
fall head over heels in love a man this charming and patient?
“Okay.”
She shifted slightly so she was facing him, and then tucked her legs underneath
her body. “I guess starting at the beginning would be best.”
“Start
wherever you need to start.”
The
place was so quiet and comfortable. It felt homey, despite the lavish
furnishings and decor. That sensation had to be coming from Oliver. He
projected an aura of intelligence, peace, and security. Those last two were
desperately needed right now.
“I
don’t remember my father. My parents divorced when I was three, or so I was
told by my mother. She drank a lot, and then started taking pills, too. We
never really talked. She didn’t pay much attention to me other than to make
sure I went to school and ate something once in a while. I learned early on to
take care of myself.”
“That
explains why you’re so resourceful and can work without constant supervision.”
“I
suppose so.” She took a deep breath. You
can do this. “She had a lot of boyfriends. They came and went more often
than I bothered to keep track of, and for the most part they ignored me. I
always suspected my presence might have been the reason most of them
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