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That wasn’t the gesture of a man who didn’t love his family.
Gloria and Birch’s home had been full of love. Full of real-life examples of the kind of happily ever after I valued so highly. Oscar was surrounded by it.
Imagine being surrounded by the very thing you think you can’t ever have. No wonder he tried to keep his distance from them.
I reached out and ran a fingertip across one of his eyebrows and down the side of his face. I didn’t want him to sleep; I wanted him to wake up and share his body with me again, share his heart with me, even though I knew he’d never admit that’s what he was doing…
But he was.
Oscar Overton was a lover. He just didn’t want to be, and he fought it tooth and nail. It was almost like he was willing to love someone as long as he didn’t admit that’s what it was.
The realization probably should have given me pause. Instead, it gave me ideas…
“You’re smiling,” he mumbled, cracking open one eye. “It’s creepy.”
“Just mentally fitting you for a harness and chains.”
He grunted and rolled closer to me, burying his face in my chest. “Mm, sounds fun.” The warm caress of his breath on my skin felt intimate and dear.
“How can you be sleepy? It’s the middle of the day. You only had one drink despite double-fisting for most of the morning.”
“Sex stupor.”
I kissed the top of his head, feeling lighter than I had in months. Possibly longer. “Hey, I was wondering…”
“Mm.”
I found his hand and tangled my fingers in his. “This fake-dating thing has worked out pretty well so far for both of us, right?”
“Mm.”
“So what if we just… keep it up until after Hyacinth’s wedding? I mean, the holidays are usually the worst when you’re single, right? Everyone giving you looks for not having someone at Thanksgiving or holiday parties. And don’t get me started about Christmas dinner. What if… what if we pretended to be together so we didn’t have to worry about all that pressure? We already know we enjoy spending time together. And the sex is good.”
“Good? The sex is fucking epic.” He pulled away from the snuggle and blinked sleepy eyes at me. “You’d do that? But what if…”
“What if we just don’t overthink it? The truth is…” I hesitated, but looking at Oscar’s suddenly vulnerable face, I couldn’t hold back. “I really hated the way we left things after the Cape. I understood why you left. Things felt different that weekend, right? Too…” Close to an actual relationship. “…undefined. I’m sure you wanted to put space between us so that I wouldn’t fall in love with you.” Too late. “But I’ve missed your friendship.”
“You missed the pictures of Frank. And my commentary on your deplorable date fashion choices.”
My heart squeezed at this obvious deflection. Like no one could miss Oscar himself? His intelligence, his wicked humor, his pure heart?
“Yeah,” I said softly. “Obviously, it was Frank. So what if we set a deadline right now and agree to it ahead of time? You and I can be boyfriends—fake boyfriends—until the day after the wedding. January first, we walk away with no guilt or pressure. Easy-peasy.”
His eyes narrowed. “Easy-peasy?”
I shrugged. “Not really. But no more difficult than it’s already been staying away from you. Heck, leaving you today would be hard. At least this way, at least we’d end things on a positive note. You already know I enjoy spending time with you. I love sleeping with you. That’s just how it is. Only… in this proposed scenario, I get more of what I like before leaving it behind. That’s a good thing.”
Lies. All lies. But I was desperate. And desperate people were really fucking stupid.
Oscar’s forehead furrowed. “You’re sure?”
I nodded. “Absolutely.”
I was getting good at this lying thing.
He snuggled back against my chest. “I, uh… I was thinking about something like this,” he reluctantly admitted, the words warm against my skin. “A little while ago. I like going to events with you. I like being alone with you too. And I don’t just mean the sex. I like talking to you. You… understand me. Maybe better than anyone. And it’s been a while since I’ve had a good cuddle. Don’t usually let it happen with hookups anymore. Gives them the wrong idea. Love ideas.”
The poor, sweet man. He’d had a thousand and one hookups and a billion quasi-boyfriends before that, but somehow, he didn’t seem to understand that when you found a person you liked going out with and staying home with, talking and cuddling and having sex with, who understood you better than anyone… that was love.
