The Best Mistakes by Elena Monroe

Author:Elena Monroe [Monroe, Elena]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-10-31T00:00:00+00:00

I woke for the first time in six years without an overwhelming ache in my chest that I couldn’t seem to explain or get over. There was still room for some doubt, but seeing Oliver’s bare chest and arm pushed above his head was pure comfort.

It was one of the rarities, waking up to a sleeping Oliver. It had only happened a couple of times; he had usually fallen asleep reading in a chair instead of in bed. He looked so peaceful sleeping. It was a good change.

Before I stepped out of bed, my eyes darted over my floor, looking for any kind of shirt when I snatched up whatever was closest to the edge. His black, work, and even holey shirt still smelled like him, mixed with a faint smell of cigarettes. I slipped into it, standing up and letting it fall mid-thigh, not bothering to find my panties from last night. My phone screen illuminated in my dimly-lit room, all thanks to the heavy curtains doing their job. I quickly nabbed it before it buzzed against my nightstand. I didn’t want to wake him. With him having Arson, I assumed that sleep came even more difficultly now.

Liz: Let me guess, you’re thankful for Oliver’s dick. We skipped your turn last night.

Hunter: We should talk. Let me know when boy wonder leaves.

Maddison: Staying at Aspen’s. Don’t wait up!

Hunter’s text made me swallow hard, even though my throat felt dry and tart. I should have never let him assume it was his. I never even planned to tell him in the first place, but when he saw the pregnancy test in my trash can, it became his focus. I saw his gray eyes beam at the possibility of being a dad, and it made it even harder to come clean, to kill what hope he had left of me being his. It would have been a slap in the face after all he had done for me in Oliver’s absence.

We were stuck in routine, in avoiding labels, and everything became a mess that neither of us wanted to clean up. We spray painted all over traditional brick to become what we did.

None of what we were changed how much I couldn’t let go of Oliver. My heart, even some of my soul, were taken hostage the moment he asked if I was stalking him. In some way, my heart was.

I brushed the sour taste out of my mouth and turned the knob, as the water rained down on the shower tile. I waited for it to be scalding hot, taking my time, folding his shirt and carefully placing it on the counter.

Facing the mirror, I took inventory of myself. I was invisibly marked as Oliver’s.

Reaching for the shower door, I felt his hands pull my hips backwards into his hard cock, minus the boxer briefs. His length pushed into the small of my back, and I had to bite down on a whimper trying to escape when I felt his lips against my neck.

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