5: Stop Looking At Me

There's a boy in my house. Whore.

There's actually two boys and one man. Oliver Grey is definitely not a boy. Have you seen him?

I took a chance with him. I took a big fat chance with him. He better not make me regret it or I will kick his balls. I am not afraid. He's the one that should be afraid.

"Where should I sleep?"

I look around. The options were limited: my bed, the couch in my room, the chairs in the kitchen. I stop looking around and fix my gaze on Oliver. I'm so curious to know where he's been. What's going on. I'm itching to know the mysteries that make Oliver Grey.

"Stop looking at me."

"You have a bruise."

"Good observation. You have a scar."

I look down and see that my pj shorts were too small to cover up the scar close to my hip bone. It pains me to remember why I have it and I hold back any emotion or tears that try to escape. I quickly cover it up and turn away from Oliver.

Turning the attention away from me, "You can sleep on the couch."

"You're not gonna let me sleep cuddled up next to you?" He smirks.

I gasp and throw a pillow at him, "I am not a whore."

"School does though."

"How do you know about the rumors?"

"Haze, I am the most popular boy in school. I have my way."

"First of all, you are not the most popular. Grayson Adams is. Second, you've been gone for two week. People thought you were dead."

"People also thought I was hidden in your basement."

I shrug, "Good thing I don't have a basement."

I walk over to the bathroom and shut the door. I quickly change into pjs and brush my teeth. I keep thinking about the bruise that Oliver has at the bottom of his neck. Does he have more? Or is it a hickey? Oh my god. I'm literally the dumbest person in the world. And I brought it up to him. I completely embarrassed myself in front of Oliver Grey. At least he didn't say anything about it. Except that smile he always wears.

I walk out and just go straight to my bed. No need to further embarrass myself. I'll do that enough tomorrow.

"Good night, Haze."

The lights shut off and I hear him shift into a comfortable position on the couch. That small ass couch he probably doesn't fit in. Oliver Grey is used to the best of the best and her he is now sleeping on the couch. He's used to mansions and big beds and, I dunno, stairs. And here he is, sleeping in a tiny house on a couch and he's the oldest person here.

Morning rolls around and I jump slight in surprise when I see someone sleeping on the couch. Oliver Grey in the flesh, literally. The man slept shirtless. But honestly, what did we expect from the man?

After I rub away the sleepiness from my eyes I get a better look at his strong back. At his bruised back?

I stand up and walk over to his sleeping figure. His whole back was filled with bruises. Large, dark purple bruises. No girl could have done that. Right? I mean from my experience, limited experience, okay, no experience at all. I'm pretty sure that's not natural. They looked too painful to be pleasure filled.

Unconsciously, my hand reaches out to trace the bruises on his back. His pain made me hurt. It made me sad that those bruises existed on his body. Oliver Grey was all bruised and I didn't know why.

"What are you doing?"

I pull my hand away and step back, "Nothing."

"Don't lie to me," His just-woke-up morning voice was the hottest thing ever.

I mean no. Oliver Grey just sounded huskier than normal. Just an observation. You know how it is training to be the next Sherlock Holmes and all.

"Just the bruises," I tell the truth.

He doesn't say anything but pulls a shirt over his head.

"I'm sorry. I won't pry."

"Fuck yeah you won't," He says and walks straight to the bathroom and slams the door behind him.

"Good morning, Oliver Grey," I whisper knowing he is unable to hear me.

I make my way to the boys' room and wake them up. Saturday is their favorite day of the week. No school and I make pancakes. It's a win win situation for them.

"Blueberry or chocolate chip?"

"Chocolate!" They both respond quickly.

I smile and make my way towards the kitchen so I can start breakfast. I make a pot of coffee and grab an extra mug for Oliver. Looking down at the pancake mix I try to decide if he'd want blueberry or chocolate chip.

My mind shifts to a long lost memory of Oliver. My junior year he slapped chocolates out of his girlfriend of-the-week's hands. It was Valentine's Day and he broke up with her right then and there. Because of a box of chocolates.

No chocolate then.

I pour blueberries into his batch as well as mine and start cooking. The twins come in when I'm almost done with the last few pancakes and I ask them to grab the syrup.

"Hello," His husky voice says.

So we're not mad anymore then? Good to know  he PMS's just as much as hormonal teenager. I internally roll my eyes and smile to myself.

"Morning. Just sit at the table I'll be right there with breakfast."

"Breakfast?" His hard features soften just a little.

"You know, the meal at the beginning of the day."

I hear Ben and Braden laugh at my response to Oliver and that makes me smile. It's always a good day when it starts with the twins giggling.

He just rolls eyes, "What's for breakfast?"

"Blueberry pancakes. A specialty of mine."

"My favorite," He grumbles lowly but I'm still able to hear him.

I give him a small smile and watch him as he makes his way to the twins who are already sitting anxiously at the table. I see them asking Oliver questions but I can't hear them, or Oliver, for that matter.

"Breakfast!"

"Chocolate chip for you. Chocolate chip for you. Blueberry for me. And blueberry for you."

We all eat in silence. Okay, Oliver eats in silence and the twins are yelling and laughing the whole time. They get really excited for pancake day. When we're all done I collect the empty plates and wash them. I'm about to start drying when Oliver comes up and starts doing it for me.

"You don't have to."

"I've never dried plates before."

"Rich boy privilege," I laugh.

He shrugs, "Thanks," he waits a couple beats before finishing, "For the blueberry."

"I know you don't exactly like chocolate."

He nods and stays silent as he continues drying. He starts humming a little tune but I can't put my finger on what the song is. It sounds familiar.

"I'm going out."

I turn to look at him and ask where he's going but he's already out the door. Huh, he could've at least said goodbye. I walk to my room and look at the couch Oliver slept in. The makeshift bed was a mess while mine was already made and tidy. I roll my eyes and go over to the couch. and fix it up. It's still my room and I don't want it to be messy.

The rest of the day is spent with me and the boys outside. We play an unfair soccer game. 2 against 1 and I lose miserably. I'm a girl, it's not fair. Yes, I'm pulling that card.

"Is Oliver coming today?"

"I dunno," I frown.

He's not back yet.

"But it's time for bed you two."

"Awww, no fair!"

"Come on."

Once the twins are tucked in I go over to the kitchen table and sit down. I can see the front door from here and I wait for Oliver to walk in. The time passes and I drift away. The last time I checked it was 3am and no one had even walked by.

"Haze. Hazel. Haze, wake up."

I blink my eyes open and see Oliver standing in front of me. Looking around I see a fancy suitcase behind him. It looks filled to the brim and I can only imagine that it's his belongings that he'll need for the time he lives here. But umm, that's a big suitcase. How long does he plan on living here?

"What time is it?"

"It's 6am."

"Have you slept yet?"

"No, I don't need sleep."

"Yes you do, unless you aren't human."

He just walks away towards my room. Our room? Nope, definitely not doing that. He walked into my room.

"Wait for me," I pull myself out of the chair and walk to my bed.

I just plop down and don't even move for a couple minutes. Much better than a chair. I look to the side where Oliver should be sleeping and see that his back is to me. It was dark but the sun was starting to come up. The little light that came in was enough.

Oliver has more bruises on his back. What is he up to?