Page 119 of When He Was Mine

Oliver chuckled, “You would spin it that way. No promises, but I’ll talk to him.”

“We better get back before everyone thinks we’re up to something in here,” I said, feeling a surge of warmth at his promise to help.

“I’d like to be,” Oliver whispered, his voice low and suggestive.

“What is with you lately?” I asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement.

“I enjoy your body,” Oliver replied, his gaze lingering on me.

“I think you more than enjoy it, you’re obsessed,” I said, feeling a blush rise to my cheeks.

“No, not obsessed. In love,” Oliver said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to my cheek.

We made our way back to the living room, where Oliver immediately engaged Mark in conversation. At first, the man was reluctant, but as Oliver asked probing questions, a discussion began to unfold.

Meanwhile, I headed to the kitchen to help, where I found my mother speaking in hushed tones to Kristen, who was sniffling and dabbing at her cheeks. Sensing their need for privacy, I quietly backed out of the room, not wanting to intrude.

“Who wants to play touch football?” Anders called out, his voice carrying through the house.

I groaned playfully. “Go play your Neanderthal sport.”

“Come on, Ryleigh, play with us,” Perry urged, his voice cheerful and inviting.

He, like his brothers, was tall, lean, and rangy, with a mop of sandy brown hair and light gray eyes. Despite being triplets, each had their own distinct personality, and I found Perry to be the most endearing. He was always full of fun and told the silliest jokes. Peter and Paul were more reserved. Sadie had told me they were battling for the valedictorian spot of their graduating class. Both had received early acceptance to several Ivy League schools with almost full scholarships, which I was sure was a relief for Kristen and Mark.

Sadie and I followed the men out to the backyard, where the grass had turned straw-colored from the onset of winter. I bundled my coat around my neck as we settled into folding chairs to watch them play.

“Why are we out here?” I asked, pulling my coat tighter around me against the chill.

“To watch them play some ridiculous game with an oblong ball,” Sadie replied with a smirk.

“At least they’re not tackling each other. I worry about Finley,” I remarked, my gaze flickering to where Oliver was joining the game.

“Oliver is older,” Sadie pointed out. “Do you worry that he’s so much older than you?”

“No. He’s healthy and takes care of himself,” I responded confidently.

“But when he’s fifty, you’ll still be in your thirties,” she said.

“Age doesn’t matter to me. I love Oliver.”

She shrugged. “I was just wondering.”

Sadie and I were chatting absentmindedly when a scream pierced the air. I looked up to see Oliver clutching his hand, his pinkie bent at an odd angle. My heart lurched, and I immediately jumped up and ran to him.

“Fuck!” Oliver growled through clenched teeth, his face contorted in pain.

Mark, who was a volunteer fireman, approached Oliver. “It’s dislocated. You have two choices. Let me put it back or sit in the hospital for four hours to have them do the same thing.”

“I think I can take my chances with you,” Oliver replied grimly, his jaw set in determination.

Tears welled in my eyes as Oliver braced himself, and Mark prepared to reset the finger. Unable to watch, both Sadie and I turned our backs, but the men around us were fascinated by the process. I winced as I heard Oliver grunt in pain as Mark completed the procedure.

With the game over, everyone retreated inside the house so Mark could splint Oliver’s finger to the one next to it, which happened to be his ring finger. It held the sapphire ring I had bought for his birthday a few months ago.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“I’m fine. It stings.”

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