Chapter 18

After cleaning Oscar up, I lay beside him until he dozed off. Once his breathing turned rhythmic, I opened my eyes to study him.

Spending time with him and his family today had been… eye-opening. I finally felt like another layer of his complex shell had broken apart, revealing a kind of tender vulnerability underneath.

He wanted so much to be loved, to be included and welcomed into his big gregarious family, but for some reason, he held himself apart. He resisted all of their overtures and kept a clear wall up between himself and every other member of the large, loving family.

I just couldn't figure out why.

His vow against falling in love made sense to me, even though I didn't agree with it. I understood "once bitten, twice shy" from personal experience. Even though my reaction to being burned was different from his, I still understood it.

But family love wasn't the same. Was it? It wasn't like he'd given his heart to another family in the past and had them walk away…

I blinked at him as a possible explanation became obvious. He never talked about his father, but I knew he'd left when Oscar was young. Was that it? Was he afraid of giving his heart to the Flower Family because they, too, might leave him one day?

How could he possibly think that when there were so many of them and they were all incredibly happy to have him in their lives?

Suddenly, I remembered the centerpiece on the dining table at Oscar's parents' house. It was a riotous collection of colorful flowers distributed unevenly between a collection of cut-crystal vases. Oscar's brother Heath had explained that the botanical designs curled around each vase represented Birch, Gladiolus, Hyacinth, Lily, Jasmine, Rose, Marigold, Heath, Sage, and Basil. Ten vases, all different, but all designed to go together. They represented the Flower Family, and Oscar had gifted them to Gloria and Birch for their crystal anniversary.

That wasn't the gesture of a man who didn't love his family.

Gloria and Birch's home had been full of love. Full of real-life examples of the kind of happily ever after I valued so highly. Oscar was surrounded by it.

Imagine being surrounded by the very thing you think you can't ever have.No wonder he tried to keep his distance from them.

I reached out and ran a fingertip across one of his eyebrows and down the side of his face. I didn't want him to sleep; I wanted him to wake up and share his body with me again, share his heart with me, even though I knew he'd never admit that's what he was doing…

But he was.

Oscar Overton was a lover. He just didn't want to be, and he fought it tooth and nail. It was almost like he was willing to love someone as long as he didn't admit that's what it was.

The realization probably should have given me pause. Instead, it gave me ideas…

"You're smiling," he mumbled, cracking open one eye. "It's creepy."

"Just mentally fitting you for a harness and chains."

He grunted and rolled closer to me, burying his face in my chest. "Mm, sounds fun." The warm caress of his breath on my skin felt intimate and dear.

"How can you be sleepy? It's the middle of the day. You only had one drink despite double-fisting for most of the morning."

"Sex stupor."

I kissed the top of his head, feeling lighter than I had in months. Possibly longer. "Hey, I was wondering…"

"Mm."

I found his hand and tangled my fingers in his. "This fake-dating thing has worked out pretty well so far for both of us, right?"

"Mm."

"So what if we just… keep it up until after Hyacinth's wedding? I mean, the holidays are usually the worst when you're single, right? Everyone giving you looks for not having someone at Thanksgiving or holiday parties. And don't get me started about Christmas dinner. What if… what if we pretended to be together so we didn't have to worry about all that pressure? We already know we enjoy spending time together. And the sex is good."

"Good? The sex is fucking epic." He pulled away from the snuggle and blinked sleepy eyes at me. "You'd do that? But what if…"

"What if we just don't overthink it? The truth is…" I hesitated, but looking at Oscar's suddenly vulnerable face, I couldn't hold back. "I really hated the way we left things after the Cape. I understood why you left. Things felt different that weekend, right? Too…" Close to an actual relationship. "…undefined. I'm sure you wanted to put space between us so that I wouldn't fall in love with you." Too late. "But I've missed your friendship."

"You missed the pictures of Frank. And my commentary on your deplorable date fashion choices."

My heart squeezed at this obvious deflection. Like no one could miss Oscar himself? His intelligence, his wicked humor, his pure heart?

"Yeah," I said softly. "Obviously, it was Frank. So what if we set a deadline right now and agree to it ahead of time? You and I can be boyfriends—fake boyfriends—until the day after the wedding. January first, we walk away with no guilt or pressure. Easy-peasy."

His eyes narrowed. "Easy-peasy?"

I shrugged. "Not really. But no more difficult than it's already been staying away from you. Heck, leaving you today would be hard. At least this way, at least we'd end things on a positive note. You already know I enjoy spending time with you. I love sleeping with you. That's just how it is. Only… in this proposed scenario, I get more of what I like before leaving it behind. That's a good thing."

Lies. All lies. But I was desperate. And desperate people were really fucking stupid.

Oscar's forehead furrowed. "You're sure?"

I nodded. "Absolutely."

I was getting good at this lying thing.

He snuggled back against my chest. "I, uh… I was thinking about something like this," he reluctantly admitted, the words warm against my skin. "A little while ago. I like going to events with you. I like being alone with you too. And I don't just mean the sex. I like talking to you. You… understand me. Maybe better than anyone. And it's been a while since I've had a good cuddle. Don't usually let it happen with hookups anymore. Gives them the wrong idea. Love ideas."

The poor, sweet man. He'd had a thousand and one hookups and a billion quasi-boyfriends before that, but somehow, he didn't seem to understand that when you found a person you liked going out with and staying home with, talking and cuddling and having sex with, who understood you better than anyone… that was love.

But maybe… maybe… I could show him, if he gave me the chance.

I ran my hands up and down his bare back, trying to hold back a massive sigh of relief at my temporary stay of execution.

"I won't get the wrong idea," I said, practicing the same careful truth-telling I'd used at Abby's party the day before. "Trust me, I know exactly where I stand with you, Oscar."

He didn't speak for a moment. "It's not because I don't care about you. I hope you know that."

I let out a soft huff. "I know."

"I care about you a lot. A lot."

I bit my lip to keep from smiling. "I know that too."

Oscar was quiet again for several minutes. He ran a lazy fingertip in patterns across my shoulder. Finally, he said, "So, you finally got to meet the Flower Family."

"Mmhm."

Silence fell again. I waited for him to reveal his thoughts.

"Crazy, right? Chaotic and loud. Eccentric, really."

I moved a hand up into his hair and scratched his scalp lightly. "I liked them very much, and it's clear they adore you."

"They're genuinely grateful for everything I've done to help them, getting Birch's career off the ground and introducing him to my mother," Oscar corrected, his fingers still gentle on my skin. "They adore my mom."

I snorted and put a hand on his chest, pushing him back so I could see his eyes. "How could you possibly be that smart and so fucking wrong?"

His eyes widened comically. "Wrong? No. Did you not see the way they were with her? They call her Mom, and?—"

"Not about that." I shifted until my back was against the headboard. "Oscar, are you grateful to Arco Steel?"

He looked confused for a moment. "What do you know about Arco Steel?"

"I may have… read an article or two about you at one point in our friendship." I cleared my throat and waved this away. What was a casual bit of internet stalking among friends? "Irrelevant. The point is, I know they were one of your early investors. They helped your company get to the next level, right?"

"Well… yes, but?—"

"Do you invite the shareholders to Sunday brunch, Oscar? Do you tell them to stop by for Thanksgiving? Do you spend as much time as possible at the CEO's Vermont estate because it makes you feel close to him and because you hope he might be around so you can see him for an hour or two? Does Frank call the company president Uncle? And if he did, would the president buy enough cookies to send his entire Girl Scout troop to Puerto Vallarta?" I shook my head. "Those people love you, Oscar. And you love them. You can call them stepsiblings until the cows come home, but it won't change who they are to you… or who you are to them."

Just like calling us "fake" boyfriends wouldn't make the way I felt about him any less real.

Oscar's nose twitched, and he looked away. After a moment, he excused himself and left the room.

I exhaled sharply. I'd pushed too hard. Great job, Linzee. You can't even keep a fake boyfriend around for more than ten minutes.

Oscar came back holding Frank in his hands. "Sorry. I, uh… I realized I hadn't told Frank we were home." He climbed back onto the bed and sat even closer to me than before. He set Frank in his lap so I could reach out and stroke him. "It's definitely not that I needed an emotional support hedgehog for the conversation we're about to have."

"No, of course," I agreed solemnly, while on the inside, I was rejoicing at the very idea that we were going to have a conversation. "I'd never think that."

His lips twitched, and he darted a quick glance at my eyes before focusing on Frank again. "Right. So, you know my dad left," he began. "But what you don't know, because it's too embarrassing to admit, is that he left because he was embarrassed by me. I was different. Sarcastic and opinionated, but not in the way he liked. I cared about fashion and music, money and opportunity. He wanted a son who cared about working with his hands and enjoying a good football game on the weekend. Someone who fit in… when all I did was stand out." He held up a hand. "And before you tell me I couldn't possibly have been the reason he left, I assure you I was. You can ask my mom. She couldn't hide it, even though she wanted to. He made her choose between him and me. She picked me."

I leaned closer until our arms were pressed together from elbow to shoulder. "Smart woman. She got you out of the deal, and then she got Birch too."

Oscar nodded slowly. "Birch is so much better for her. He worships the ground she walks on. That was never the case with my dad. But here's the thing. I don't want to fuck it up for her again. And if I try to horn in on what she has with Birch and the Flower Family…" He shrugged.

I didn't roll my eyes, but part of me wanted to. Instead, I remembered this was a little boy's fear talking. A little boy who'd been judged and found lacking by the man who was supposed to put him above all others.

And even if things didn't work out for Oscar and me by New Year's, I needed him to know there were other people in the world who loved him too.

"I can understand that," I began. Oscar nodded and curled his hands around Frank. "But, baby… they're begging for you to let go and let them in. You're not too much or too little for them. They already consider you a critical piece of their family—it's clear they think the puzzle isn't complete when you're not there, the same way it is with Basil living in Iceland, only you're actually right here. They want your company, your humor, your opinions. Marigold wants you to cut up with her. Lily wants you to think she's a good mother. Jasmine wants you to meet her friends and talk about art with her. Sage wants to commiserate with you about being one of the single ones who gets set up all the time. You're not ‘horning in' on anything, Oscar Overton. There's a space right there waiting for you and your funny, sarcastic, hedgehog-prickly self to fill it."

He pushed past the grip I had on his face to bury it in the side of my neck. I gently removed Frank from his hands and set him in the little hedgehog basket on the bedside table so I could hold Oscar tightly without hurting either one of them. His body shuddered as he sucked in a breath, clearly trying to keep his strong emotions from escaping.

"Jesus, fuck, Oscar," I finally said, shaking him a little in my grip. "It's okay to feel things, for god's sake!"

He pulled back and crushed his mouth to mine.

And then he let all his feelings out, only he did it through touch, through taste, through sharp nips of his teeth and bruising presses of his fingers. He begged me to fuck him, hard, and he thanked me for it with slow, languid kisses long after I'd made him come.

I knew better than to bring it up, to speak of these raw emotions again so soon after his intense reaction, so we settled in for an afternoon and evening binge-watching a new show we'd been anticipating. And we let ourselves and each other begin to accept the new, temporary normal.

Together.

Because even though the detonation cord had been lit, it would take exactly forty-six days for it to reach the gunpowder waiting for it at the end, and while the small flame made its way toward its goal, it would sizzle and spark…

And burn white-hot all the way to the end.