Page 74 of Phobia
His eyes trailed after the trickle of sweat that dripped from my temple, wetting my collar. His gaze was heavy as it traced over my heaving chest, then down to my white-knuckled fists where they rested on top of my thighs. Every muscle in my body was stiff, like I was made of board, as I attempted to rein in my fear. If I hadn’t been staring back at him just as hard, I probably wouldn’t have noticed the way his pulse fluttered, or that his breathing had begun to speed up the second his eyes landed on my crotch. Or maybe I’d been imagining that last bit? Yes. Definitely.
“Are we going to die?” Oliver’s voice was full of fake bluster, but I could hear the very real fear quivering behind it. Even he wasn’t a good enough liar to hide that. I was feeling a fair amount of terror myself, so I could relate.
I’d never seen him be anything other than smug and unrepentant.
His fear unnerved me.
It made him…seem human.
“We’re not going to die.” I didn’t actually know that, but if he began to panic I knew I’d panic, and I already had enough on my plate as it was, juggling my pounding heart and my sweaty hands.I shouldn’t even be here.Seeing as this was his fault and all.
“Oh my god, we’re going to die.” Oliver’s panic was rising.
“My father will have noticed my absence by now,” I said quickly, because I needed to hear the words myself. Not to soothe him, of course. I hoped what I said was true. No. I had tobelieveit was. Because if not the alternative was…
No.
I wouldn’t think about that.
The stars glimmered overhead, not a spaceship in sight. It was almost like, out this far at sea, the rest of the world slipped away. Father was probably at another gala, schmoozing away, shoving our fortune into the faces of the masses because for some reason, that always made him feel tall.
Alana was no doubt at home, with a maid in her bed.
No one was bound to check my tracker till morning at least.
“I’m going to have to eat you.” Oliver lamented, interrupting my thoughts. I reached out with one booted leg and kicked him in the shin, hard. Though, I was admittedly, grateful he’d stopped my morose mental wanderings before they’d gotten more depressing.
“No one is eating anyone.”
“You probably taste horrible,” Oliver swore under his breath. “Not an ounce of fat on your body.” He assessed me again, squinting critically, and I forced my hands still when my first instinct was to cover myself up. I’d never had someone seriously consider eating me before. It was understandably violating.
“Like you’d taste any better,” I huffed, just as Oliver rolled his eyes.
“You’re not eating me.”
“Well, you’re not eating me.” I grit my teeth.
“Don’t be an idiot,” Oliver said, slapping a hand against his chest. “I’d only feed you for a few days. A week at most. You’d die anyway.”
“Okay…?”
“If I eat you, even though you’d more than likely taste like a bar of soap and that cabbage shite you eat for lunch, I’ll survive for a good two weeks at least.”
“Are you eating me raw?” I glared at him, irritation rising at the reminder of my missing lunch. It’d disappeared earlier that day, and my number one suspect was sitting right in front of me. “How are you going to store the meat without it spoiling?” Clearly, he hadn’t thought this through. Oliver looked floored for a moment by my response. He obviously hadn’t expected me to play along, but despite this, he still spent several long seconds contemplating my question. Hypothetical scenario or not, he was taking this very seriously, brow furrowed, before he snapped his fingers and his eyes lit up.
“Salt water!” He cheered. “I’ll splash you with water from the side of the boat. Salt preserves meat. Tah-dah.”
“That wouldn’t work.”
“Wouldn’t it?” Oliver waggled his thick eyebrows at me. “How would you know, anyway?” I kicked his shin again. “Ow!” He kicked me back,harder. “Yeah, I’mdefinitelyeating you.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. The noise surprised us both and Oliver’s eyebrows climbed high, his wild curls whipping around his face as the boat rocked and a splash of salty water wet our cheeks. His hair looked soft, bouncy. Tangled up and wild. I wanted to run my fingers through them to smooth the knots, just like I’d imagined doing every day since I met him. They were driving me insane.
“You canlaugh?” He asked in mock disbelief.
“Fuck off.”
“Andswear?!” Oliver’s grin turned manic as he slapped his hands over his mouth in mock amazement. “If you keep at it, I might start to think you’re human.”
