Page 34 of When We Were Us

"Follow me," Oliver said, his voice a low command that sent shivers down my spine.

As we walked, I couldn't help but tease, "I hope you're not thinking about the kitchen counter. That granite is too cold."

Oliver stopped abruptly, turning to face me with an arched eyebrow. "Ryleigh, what exactly do you think I'm planning?"

I felt my face flush further. "I thought... never mind."

Oliver's deep chuckle reverberated through the hallway as we entered the kitchen. On the granite island sat a tray with a gleaming silver dome.

"What's this?" I asked, curiosity piqued.

"You're hungry, aren't you?" Oliver's voice was rich with promise.

I hesitated. "Yes, but it's late. I shouldn't eat too much."

With a flourish, Oliver lifted the cover, revealing six black truffle sliders nestled beside a golden mound of pomme frites. The aroma hit me like a wave, and I couldn't stifle my groan of appreciation.

"Oh God, those look sinful," I breathed.

Oliver's eyes sparkled. "I thought we'd indulge in a little midnight feast before bed."

"It's well past midnight," I pointed out, even as I reached for a slider.

"Then consider it our 2 a.m. indulgence," Oliver purred, grabbing a burger and taking a massive bite. His eyes closed in bliss as he savored the flavors.

As I picked up my own slider, I felt a familiar bump against my legs. Trouble, had silently padded into the kitchen, drawn by the tantalizing scent. I tore off a small piece of meat, offering it to him. Trouble snatched it delicately, his rough tongue licking my fingers clean.

“Don’t feed him this late,” Oliver said.

“Why not? We’re eating this late.”

“You spoil him too much.”

“I love him. Why, are you jealous? I promise there’s plenty of me to go around.”

“How ridiculous to be jealous of a dog.”

“He’s ours. I know you love him too.”

I took a dainty bite of my burger and chewed it slowly. The meat was so tender it practically melted in my mouth. We gorged ourselves, Oliver eating four of the six burgers and most of the fries. I was stuffed when we finished.

“I think I’m done for the night.”

Oliver gave me a devilish grin. “Are you sure?”

“It’s almost 3 a.m. I am very sure.”

Chapter 7

Exhaustion claimed me as the first rays of dawn crept through our windows. Oliver had been insatiable, his passion tinged with a desperation I couldn't quite understand. When I finally stirred, the bed beside me was empty, the sheets cool to the touch.

A gentle breeze carried the sound of laughter through the uncovered patio doors. I propped myself up on my elbows, squinting against the bright morning light. Oliver was outside, a carefree smile illuminating his face as he played with Trouble. The small dog bounded after a bright pink ball, his stumpy tail wagging furiously.

As I watched them, a bittersweet ache settled in my chest. This moment of domestic bliss felt fragile, as if it might shatter at any second.

Oliver caught sight of me and waved, his smile softening. He murmured something to Trouble before sliding open the glass door.

"Sleeping beauty awakens," he said, his voice warm with affection.

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