Recover: Book 2 of the Magic Mutations Series | ✓

24: Her Plan

When I got home after the group meeting, Olivia was bent over the dining table, head immersed in a thousand books as she studied for our upcoming exam. She raised a hand giving me a small wave as she continued to read.

Coming up behind her, I clamped my hands on her shoulders, rubbing the knots out before I gave her a kiss on the head. As she leaned into the massage, she closed the book and craned her head up to me, pursing her lips for a kiss. Gladly, I gave her what she asked for, but instantly after, she turned her attention back to her books.

"What do you want for dinner?" I asked after she stopped acknowledging me.

"You know you should study too," she responded, ignoring my question.

"I'll... get to it. I'm a fast reader."

"Show off," she whispered as I entered the kitchen.

"Do you remember the part where I am a vampire and can hear every word you whisper?"

"Do you remember I'm a vampire?" she mocked under her breath. But then she paused, looked back at me and winked, before turning back to her book.

I took out pots and pans, realising she wasn't going to give me an answer, then assembled some pasta for her and a steak for me. Five minutes later, her book closed and she bounced over to the kitchen.

"What's cooking, good looking?" she asked, smile on her face.

"You're in a good mood," I commented, raising an eyebrow. Last night's tears and fears were a totally different story...

"Of course," she responded. "I have you." Her eyes softened as she looked at me, but something was off. And suddenly I wished I had that stupid Edward Cullen's mindreading abilities. Though knowing my luck, even with such a curse, I still wouldn't be able to read the thoughts of the one person I wanted to. "So how was today?" she then asked.

As I assembled our dinners, I narrated everything my friends and I had discussed this afternoon and my plan for it. All the while Olivia looked at me from the stool, eyes tender, head nodding as she listened.

· · ───── ∘☽༓☾∘ ───── · ·

As we lay in bed that night, freshly showered, both with noses in our respective books, I decided to ask the dreaded question.

"So what day is your flight?" I whispered.

She turned the page and continued reading, pretending as though she hadn't heard me.

Eyebrow cocked, I slipped my finger into my book to mark my page, resting it in my lap as I turned to face her. "Ollie?"

"Mmm?" she responded, glancing my way.

"What day is your flight?" I asked again.

But she turned back to her book and continued reading.

Dog-earing my page, I set the book down and shuffled over to her, resting my head on her shoulder. "Why aren't you answering me?" I said, before pressing my lips against her neck.

But when she still didn't respond, I decided to step it up a notch. So I trailed my fingers slowly and lightly up her arm, then over her neck.

"That tickles," she giggled, scooting away from me. But I wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her in place, this time poking her in the ribs.

"Answer my question.'

"No," she frumped, trying again to continue her book.

But this time I tickled her more ferociously.