Page 11 of Oliver

I’ve never been so hung up on someone before. It’s pissing me off. I’ve tried fucking other people the last few months, and all it’s done is make me want him more, because no one else compared to what it was like with him.

“Here, I’ll get you started,” Matt says, and moves over to my nightstand. He opens it and takes out the box of condoms, a couple of different dildos, a prostate massager, and a bottle of lube, and then moves back over to the suitcase and drops them inside. “There, that’s the essentials. You can do the rest.” He grins at me and I can’t help smiling.

“Thanks,” I say.

“Don’t mention it. I’ll be back in thirty minutes to make sure you’re actually packed.” He pats my shoulder and walks away.

I take a deep breath and let it out, then move to my dresser. Besides the fact that Mom wants me to meet her fiancé, Oliver, I also don’t have a job right now since the bar I work at,Dave's, is having some renovations done and is closed for the next month.Honestly it’s the perfect time for me to go home. Fortunately, even with the lack of a job I’m still getting paid.

“Time’s up!” Matt calls twenty five minutes later, as he wanders into my room for the second time.

I turn to him and gesture to my fully packed suitcase, even managing a smile. Then tuck the hair that has slid out of my messy bun behind my ear. He grins at me.

“Good, now get lost. Scram, skedaddle, and don’t come back without having used all the supplies in that suitcase.”

I roll my eyes as I head towards the front door. “Tell Sam I say goodbye and I’ll see you guys in a month?”

“Sure thing, man,” Matt says, and waves as I close the door behind me.

An hour later, I’m pulling into the driveway of my childhood home. A two story with light blue siding and white brick, and a wood burning fireplace and hardwood floors throughout. It’s not huge, but it was perfect for Mom and me. Three bedrooms and two and half bathrooms. Cozy and quaint. The bedroom downstairs is used as an office, while the Master bedroom and my bedroom are on the second floor.

I take a deep breath as I prepare myself to meet this Oliver guy, who apparently swept Mom off her feet in a short amount of time. We don’t talk on the phone a ton, but when we do she gushes over him, and I know they’ve been living together since they got engaged, maybe even before that, so I’m expecting him to be here.

I’m trying to stay positive, to put on a good face and give this guy a chance. If Mom likes him he must be decent. And she hasn’t been married before. My sperm donor father knockedher up and disappeared, so it’s just been the two of us since, and while she’s dated, she never found a guy who actually appreciated her intelligence and hard work. Until now, I guess.

The last thing I want to do is rain on their parade, no matter how miserable I feel. It’s not about me. So I climb out of my car, determined to be happy for them, and grab my suitcase from the trunk.

Trudging up the driveway in the thousand degree July heat, I make my way up the steps and turn the doorknob. “Mom!” I call, stopping just inside the doorway and closing the door behind me.

“Hunter?” Mom says from in the kitchen, then races in to throw her arms around me in a tight hug. I smile and hug her back, drinking in the scent of her lemon and raspberry body wash. I hug her tighter. I didn’t realize how much I needed a hug until I got one. “It’s so good to see you,” she coos.

“You, too,” I say, pulling away.

“Thank you for coming. It really means a lot to both of us. Come meet Oliver. He’s in the kitchen.” I nod and follow her through the living room and towards the back of the house.

When I stop in the doorway to the kitchen I halt and my heart rate skyrockets. I must be seeing things, but from the back he looks just like?—

“Amanda, love, where’s the basil for the sauce?” I hear in a voice that sounds scarily familiar. My heart is pounding now as blood rushes to my ears.

“Oliver,” Mom says, and he turns. The blood drains from my face as I stare at cobalt eyes, auburn hair, and a freckle-scattered face. He’s staring back at me with the same bewilderment on his face that I’m sure is present on mine, before he steels himself and holds out his hand.

“Hello,” he greets me like we’ve never met before. Like he wasn’t moaning underneath me three fucking months ago.Like he didn’t beg me to fuck him and then fucking leave my aparment without a word the next morning. Rage ignites inside me, quickly followed by terror and disgust as I realize there’s no way he wasn’t cheating on Mom that night.

The fucking bastard. Mom is crazy about this guy and he’s a two timing son of a bitch, who lied to me, and fuck, I slept with my mother’s boyfriend.

“Nice to meet you,Oliver,” I say, enunciating his name harshly, and he flinches as I shake his hand, squeezing hard enough that hopefully it hurts, before I turn back to Mom. “I’m not feeling so well all of a sudden. I think I’m going to go lay down for a while.”

“Oh, okay,” she says. “We’ll save you some dinner. Oliver is a wonderful cook.”

“Oh, I bet he is,” I say under my breath, before heading around the hall and up the stairs to my old room, shutting the door behind me. I grip a pillow off the bed and hold it to my face before I fucking scream.

Four

OLIVER

“You okay?” Amanda asks as we sit at the dinner table, eating the pasta dish I baked for us for when Hunter arrived. It’s a staple of mine, one of my favorites, and since Amanda told me Hunter loves pasta, that’s what I went with. Something to make his first time back home in a while a little bit nicer, to perhaps ease the fact that his mother was getting married to me in two month’s time. A man he had never met.

Except he had.

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