The Deep Prick

~Chapter 8~

 
 
                                                            Chapter 8
 
 
           
            ~…Me and Oliver were living in Boston. It was late September, when the weather was still deciding if it wanted to freeze the ground or not. I was twenty. It was two years after my parents died. It was after two years, I let my heart re-open and start breathing again.
 
             “Would you say that you're easily seduced?”

            That's all I heard. I was fixated on the British voice. I was in the Tunnel of Love library, a couple of aisles over from the voice that asked this question. He spoke quiet, but somehow, I managed to hear the softness of his British accent, which seemed to maneuver its way through the many books on bookshelf’s and right to my ears. I made my way to the next aisle over, as casually as possible.

            Oliver continued, “he looked at you with warmth in his eyes. He kissed you a lot. He would never go bald; you could be sure of that. He was playful and protected you in times of need.”

            I managed to get a peek at the speaker. My eyes homed in on Oliver's expressive and pouty mouth as he said the words:

            “He loved you the first time he saw you, and you fell for him just as quick.” Oliver smiled down towards the being he was reading to. “Can you believe this is an entire book for dogs, what is the world coming to?” Oliver continued to flip through the pages, vexed at its sheer size.

            He held my attention so close, my head had basically created a human head bookend, as my chin nearly rested on the bookshelf that separated us. I could not look away. His mouth held my attention, his accent kept my intrigue. Oliver walked away down the aisle, I rapidly grabbed a book to look busy and began to fake read it. I fake read, as if I wasn't just stalking Oliver through a bookshelf. I looked up as Oliver walked past my aisle. He walked with his American bulldog on a leash. I let out a small smile at the mere fact he was just reading a dog book to his dog. My smile lasted for far too long, as I gazed at the book I “read.” Then I heard the voice again, but in a far more intimate way. The voice was only a foot away, standing right next to me.

            “What are you reading?” Oliver asked, standing next to me as if he was there all along; skimming the book selection on the shelves in front of us.

            “What?” I said, a bit anxious and nervous at the sudden appearance. The dog he was with had somehow left and he was now all alone as if I imagined the whole thing.

            “What are you reading? You seem to be enjoying it,” Oliver asked again, with an intrigued smile.

            “Oh,” I smiled, bashfully. I closed the book to read the title that said, “Just a....” I had clearly picked the wrong book to read.

            Oliver helped my halted tongue and read the title, “Just a Gigolo.”

            I rolled my eyes looking down at my feet, so embarrassed. I mean of all the books to randomly pretend I was reading I chose JUST A GIGOLO?

            “Interesting, what's it about?” Oliver asked, truly interested.

            I giggled and replied, “sorry, I wasn't actually reading it. I just picked it up on accident... but um… I'm guessing it's about a gigolo. Maybe it's about the life of... of Louis Prima, who did in fact make a song called 'Just a Gigolo'. Yeah... but I wasn't actually reading it so...” I slowly put the book back in the shelf, confused at what just came out of my mouth.