Bound to You

Chapter 44

To say that dinner that weekend with my parents was awkward would have been the biggest understatement I'd ever had the courage to utter.

I wasn't sure what was worse, the fact that you'd also brought a fake date, a woman my mother had met at a bar and nudged in your direction, the fact that Oliver was sitting so close to me that our wrists brushed every time I reached for my water glass, or the fact that Oliver and my dad were getting along so well that it was almost shameful.

"I definitely think the structure of these major businesses is a joke. They're so busy lining their pockets, they've forgotten the bigger picture."

I wanted to flinch away from Oliver as he spoke to my dad. More than anything, when I looked at Oliver, all I could think was that he looked a little like my dad when I was younger, and the thought made me queasy. Maybe that was why my mother had thought this was such a good idea.

I stared down at my plate, picking at the roasted green beans and lamb cutlet on my plate. I wasn't hungry in the least. All I could think was that I couldn't wait to be alone with you. Sometime in the last two years, my life outside of you had started to feel unreal, like something I didn't recognize anymore. But the life I had with you in New Haven, it was real and everything I'd ever wanted, and all I wanted now was to go back to it.

I glanced up at you under my eyelashes. You were watching me, one side of your mouth quirked up, and I had to look down at my plate again to hide my smile.

"Lena, sweetie, why don't you get the pie? I left it in the fridge, and there's some whipped cream in there too." My mother had put her hand over mine and was looking down at me with that extremely obvious look on her face that said we were being obvious too.

"Sure," I said, getting up, but my mother's hand stayed over mine, her eyes locked hard with mine, and I knew exactly what she was expecting.

"Um." I turned back to the table, feeling regret in my chest. "Oliver, would you help me?"

I saw the way you watched Oliver as we turned away from the table. I walked through the dining room and into the kitchen, the door swinging behind me, and I could hear the sound of Oliver's shoes behind me. As soon as the door swung back into place, I sighed.

"God, this is harder than I thought it would be," I said quietly, walking to the fridge and opening the door to look for the pie.

Behind me, Oliver snorted. "I think it's going great. Your dad loves me, so that's a plus."

I nodded, feeling a little dazed. "You're right on that front. He definitely likes you. Nice work." I turned and tossed the pie onto the island before turning back and looking for the whipped cream. "At this rate, my father will like you more than he does me before the end of the day."

I gasped when I felt Oliver behind me. I straightened away from the fridge, but Oliver's entire body was pressed against mine from behind, his right hand sliding up the outside of my thigh. I ducked away from him, slamming the fridge shut.

"What the hell are you doing?" I hissed at him. "I told you, I'm not interested. This is all for show, that's it."

"Well, sure," he said, smirking at me. "No relationship. I get that. That's not what I'm offering. I'm just having a hard time sitting next to you at that table, feeling you all pressed against me like that. I can't stop thinking about you naked. I've been hiding a hard-on all night."

I couldn't seem to keep my eyes from dropping down to the front of his slacks, where the shape of his penis was visible through the fabric.

"God," I said, disgust pooling in my stomach. "Put that shit away," I growled. "I didn't do all of this so you could get your fucking rocks off."