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“Did you see that?” He asks, squeezing my hand, drawing me from my thoughts. Pointing, he shoots me a grin. “Look. A fairy wren.” We stand in silence, mesmerised by this tiny blue and black bird. It’s soon joined by a smaller, brown one. “See,” he whispers. “Males have that vibrant colour, not the female. It’s all part of courtship rituals. They are fascinating birds.” Oliver looks back at me and my hand reaches for his cheek, liking the roughness of his stubble under my fingers. He hesitates for a second, before an arm wraps its way across my back.
“Have I ever told you how good you look when you’re talking about something you’re passionate about?”
“No,” he breathes, warm air tickling my lips. “Tell me again.”
My mouth finds his with no hesitation. He tastes exactly how I remembered. It makes all the blood rush to my head, and I find myself relying on his arms to keep myself upright. My hands rest against his warm chest and I hear myself sigh as his hand finds the back of my head, pulling me even deeper into him.
“Kids! It’s time to hop on the bus!”
His lips leave mine and I whine at the sudden loss of contact. There’s a moment where we just look at each other, interrupted yet again. His bottom lip is swollen and there’s a blush across his cheeks that I fear may be permanent. I can’t imagine I look any better, but before I can think too hard about that Oliver reaches forward and smooths my hair down. I curve into his side, smiling.
“Time to go, kids,” he repeats, tapping me twice on the butt. “Bus is waiting.”
We dissolve into giggles, tucking my head into the crook of Oliver’s neck like it was made for me.
* * *
“He kissed you in front of school children? Even Sam and I aren’t that bad! The worst we’ve done is kissing in front of a herd of cows. They’re a lot less judgemental than kids!” Gemma exclaims at a volume far too loud for the restaurant we’re currently in. Squished next to each other, my feet barely touch the bottom rung of the stool as I unwrap my chopsticks.
“Jesus, Gemma. You’re making it sound worse than it was.” I’m momentarily distracted by the plate of salmon nigiri that travels past me on the conveyer belt. Picking it up, I look at Gemma.
“He showed you the stuffed corpse of a horse. It doesn’t sound particularly fantastic,” she responds, reaching over me to grab a spicy tuna roll.
“It was cute, alright. I think we had our first proper date.”
Gemma snorts, a very un-lady-like sound. “You invited him to your house. He met your entire family. I think we’re past first date territory.”
“But that’s the entire problem! I just don’t know what we are.” Dipping the nigiri into the soy sauce, I try to talk around a mouthful of food. “I just don’t know where I stand. Or even where I want to stand.”
Oliver and I are something I’m hesitant to even begin to describe. He means so much to me in such a small period of time, and it scares me. To fall that hard and fast for someone when all I’ve known is my work?
Gemma shakes a serviette at me. “Close your mouth when you’re eating, you filthy animal. God! Who knew a man would make you lose all your table manners.”
“That’s another problem! I feel like I’m an entirely different person.”
That statement makes Gemma look up from her carefully stacked plates.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. It’s like he’s…changed who I am. That the things that used to matter to me don’t matter as much. I love what I do, truly. But now I want to do it with him by my side.” I roll my eyes at the expression on Gemma’s face. “Look, I know. I’m dramatic. Core of the issue is that I just want to know if he wants to date me or–”
“Or fuck you?” Gemma offers, which is quickly silenced by the knee I drive into her leg.
“Yeah. Or that. But he doesn’t strike me as that type of guy. If that was all he wanted…”
“He would have it by now?”
I playfully smack Gemma’s arm with my chopsticks, making her laugh. “Okay. Conversation over. Remind me to never come to you for advice ever again.”
19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Oliver.
Trying to concentrate on uni work is hard when you know you’re going out later. You find yourself in this permanent waiting mode, hesitant to truly begin something in case you get interrupted. It’s even harder when you find yourself just sitting there, staring at the clock. Remembering the way Eden looked when she was curled up against your chest, her hair tickling your nose and the scent of vanilla still lingering on the pillow.
Ben’s footy game is today and he’s coming to pick me up any minute. I had just finished proofreading my next assignment when my phone buzzes against my desk.
