Bad Boys Do Cry

65: You Beat Me To It

We made it out. Barely.

"This is my fault, isn't it?"

"What? No, Haze, he's a bastard."

"You were trapped in your house because of me."

"He just wanted to see his son," He lies again.

I keep trying to get Oliver to tell me the truth. I know there's more to the story than his superficial answers. I know I shouldn't push him for answers, force him to tell me something, but it's so obvious there's more.

"And he took your phone and left bruises as a present. I don't get it."

"He threatened you, the twins," He finally tells me, "With your father back he has that easy in, I freaked."

"Oliver, you shouldn't have."

"No, Haze, I couldn't let him. Your name coming out of his mouth, it almost made me lose my shit," He brushes a hand through his hair, "Fuck, I did, but I didn't fight back."

I grab his hands that are fisted together, one inside the other. We're both sitting on my bed after cleaning up some after the party of sorts was completed. It ended with only one more minor hiccup: Grayson spent two hours alone with Mr. Grey. He wasn't exactly happy about that, seemed a little scarred after the experience.

The twins were sleeping over at Peter's again, something about the 100th day of school. Peter's mom picked them up and took them directly to school. Thanks to that, I was able to execute the plan, sorry, party today.

"I should've kidnapped you back sooner."

There's a short laugh from Oliver, "I thought you'd forgotten about me."

"You really are a dimwit."

His eyes turn to mine, "I missed you."

"I missed you too," I tell him, leaning closer with every word.

My hands grab onto his leather jacket, pulling him closer to me. His hands rest on my waist and his eyes pierce into mine.

"Oliver, I."

"I love you."

My eyes go wide when he takes the words out of my mouth. How did he know what I was gonna say? He must be a wizard.

There's fear that flashes through Oliver's eyes for a second after he utters those words. I realize I haven't said anything, haven't even moved or breathed. He's looking at me, unmoving, waiting for any sort of response.

"You beat me to it," The spark of Oliver's blue eyes returns when I speak, "I love you, Oliver Grey."

I pull him into me, the final inches we had between the two of us. He quickly takes over, pushing me down with my back on the bed as he crawls on top of me. Our lips never disconnect as we make our way down.

Oliver breaks the kiss for a second so that he can take his leather jacket and shirt off. I stare at him as he does so, getting a nice look at his abs that ripple with every movement. Oliver smirks down at me when he sees me staring, obviously pleased with himself.

"Your turn," He says before grabbing my waist and flipping us over.

Straddling Oliver, I lift up and pull my shirt over my head. I'm about to pop my bra loose when Oliver stops me. He grabs my arm with his and shakes his head.

"I get to do that one."

There's a smirk on his lips as he says that, his eyes filled with desire and a little curiosity. I smile back and connect my lips with his once more.

It feels weird, this situation I've gotten myself into. Not bad weird, just different weird. I had always said that I wouldn't commit to anyone other than my twin brothers. That I wouldn't cause drama in my life that could affect them. I wouldn't bring a different man home every night or leave as I go off to party. Hazel Kindler was a prude, but now, that title didn't fit me anymore. Oliver was right when he said that these titles, 'virgin', 'prude', and all the others, don't define me. I do what makes me happy.

Oliver makes me happy, so I'm gonna do him. I giggle out loud at my own thoughts.

"What's funny?"

"You," I smile, "Me. Us."

Oliver shakes his head lightly, a smile making it's way onto his lips. He pulls me back down to kiss me again, not saying anything more.

Having the house all to myself had never been a good thing for me. It always gave me too much time to think and too much time to see my reality. Being home alone reminded me of why I had my scar, and I hated reliving that day. The twins were, are, and will always be the thing that keep me going. They are the reason for everything, so they can have a good life, a happy childhood, and a successful future.

Oliver finally snaps my bra undone, letting it fall down my arms. I disconnect our lips just to throw the bra elsewhere. Taking the opportunity, I flip us over so that I'm on bottom again. Oliver has one leg between mine and the other is his support on the outside. I let my hands wander around his bare torso, making sure to evade his dark bruises that cover most of him, and then snake my fingers up his neck and into his hair. Giving it a light pull, I beg him to kiss me harder.

"Fuck, Haze."

"Yes," I whisper in his ear.

Oliver's eyes snap open, searching for my own. He's stiff, unmoving, and to some extent, surprised. I look to him, my eyes soft. If I didn't know better I'd say Oliver is a scared puppy, but this look of his isn't that. He's concerned for me, wanting to make sure my go ahead was actually a go ahead.

"I know you have a condom somewhere in this house," I tell him.

Oliver smirks at me and reaches over to my nightstand. I can't see what he's doing but when he comes back into view he's holding up a condom between his fingers. My eyes go wide at the fact that he manifested a condom from my nightstand. I didn't even know that was there.

"You had a condom hidden in my nightstand?"

"I have condoms hidden everywhere," He says almost proudly, "It's called being prepared."

I roll my eyes, "Pervert."

"You love me," He whispers close to my ear, "You sure?"

"Oliver," I place my lips against his ear and whisper, "Make love to me."

Oliver's eyes are alight with excitement. He looks like a kid at Disney for the first time. And, for what seems like the first time ever, he smiles fully. A bright smile that seems off for the personality he has now, but perfect for the third grader I knew back then, and I guess before then too.

"And I thought you were predictable."

I smirk at him, "And I thought you knew everything."

I, Hazel Kindler, am not a prude.