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“I’ve noticed.”
Languages, cultures, traditions and locations—he keeps it all in his head as if cataloged. Once he learns something, it’s there to stay.
I wonder if his skill at mastering things translates to people too.
I shove the cookie in my mouth before I say something stupid again.
Ollie leans over, gently reaching for my arm and examining it. “Looks swollen.”
I look down. “I doubt human flesh is made to be slashed and bandaged like that. I’m fine.”
“Renata.” The sober tone of his voice catches my attention. God, I love it when he says my name. The thoughts in my head come to a stop, and my pulse quickens in my veins. “I’m serious,” he continues, his brow furrowed in concern.
I swallow hard. My brother was right. I’m madly in love with this man, and it will kill me… if he doesn’t first.
I wave my good hand dismissively. “Relax, Ollie, I won’t fall apart. I’ve suffered worse.” I lean in closer, whispering loudly. “And I bet when we get back, you’ll kiss it and make it better, won’t you?”
I lean back and giggle when he growls, then hold my hand up to the flight attendant.
“Another shot, please.”
“I think you’ve had enough.” Ollie scowls.
“Not quite yet,” I say with a sickly sweet smile. I push my plate away and stare hard at his cookie.
The flight attendant looks back and forth between us, and Ollie gives him a firm shake of his head. He scurries away before I can put his life at risk again.
“You gonna finish that sandwich?” Ollie asks.
If he thinks he’s going to boss me into eating more food… I glare at him. “No. I could use another cookie though.”
Wordlessly, he leans over me to grab it. That clean, woodsy scent of his tickles my nostrils, and I stifle a groan.
Not fair.Not fair!
I watch as he annihilates my sandwich in two huge bites, then eye the cookie still left on his plate. Cookies are my favorite. Wordlessly, he slowly hands it to me. I nearly clap my hands with glee.
It’s rich and buttery, and I savor every bite.
“You’re like a kid,” he says, but there’s a softness to his voice, something almost protective...
“Mhm. You got a problem with that?” He’s not wrong. Healthy food is all well and good, but give me a cookie, and I’m a happy girl.
He snorts. “I like drunk Renata.”
My heart thumps madly. Maybe he doesn’t despise me.
I grin at him and twist the top off another shot. “Do you? What do you like about her?”
He watches me, amusement dancing in his eyes, but there’s a hint of sadness in them. “She’s playful. Uninhibited. And maybe a little vulnerable.”
“Is drunk Ollie playful and uninhibited? Or would that require a lobotomy?”
He snorts and shakes his head.
We finish our food, the tension easing as we fall into an almost comfortable silence. Despite everything, this feels somewhat normal again. We found a groove with each other back in The Cove. Maybe… despite everything… we can find it again.
Maybe.
