Waiting For Sunday

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{forty-two}

“Here,”

“What’s this?” I ask as Oliver’s hands cover my eyes. With a chuckle, I turn and as his hands disappear, he holds a rose in his lips. With a smirk, the flashback of him on the bed, naked, with nothing but a rose, brings a smile to my face.

“There’s just one problem,” I whisper as I snatch the rose playfully from his mouth and turn away.

“And what’s that?” He asks, intrigued as to what I could possibly have a problem with. As I look over my shoulder, a smirk curls on my lips, “You’re wearing clothes,” I giggle, smelling the rose as I sift through the used books in crates outside the old book store.

“Well I’m sure I can fix that,” he chuckles again, wrapping his arms around my waist, his chin resting against my shoulder.

“I don’t want to go home tomorrow, it’s been perfect,” I sigh as I pick up a book, inspecting the cover.

“I know, but we knew we’d have to return at some point, we can’t avoid Seattle forever,” he murmurs as I nod.

“I know,” I say as I turn and kiss him, his hands rising to my cheeks, “But when we get back, we don’t let anything stop us from our decision,”

“It won’t, I meant what I said, I’ll give you the family we deserve,”

Nodding again, I swiftly kiss Oliver and then disappear inside to pay for the book, heading out minutes later and with his hand laced in mine, we head to the same café we’ve been eating in for nearly two weeks and get lunch.


“You can’t stay longer?”

“Sorry mom but no, we both have to get back, I can’t afford to take any more time off and Sunday can’t keep leaving the studio with Amalia, it’s not fair,”

“I know, but I’ve loved having you at home, with Ashley away inn Vancouver and your father in Dallas, I get lonely, and having you both here has been wonderful despite everything,”

“We’ll miss you,” I smile softly as she pulls me in for a hug.

“Oh my darling girl, you’ll never know how much I’ll miss you both,” she sniffs as she pushes my shoulders back a little, brushing the hair from my eyes, “Go then, go if you must,” she softly laughs as she kisses my cheek. I’ve loved seeing her again and with everything that’s happened, she’s become the mother I never really had and for that and for raising Oliver the way she has, making him the loving and caring and devoted man that he is, I’ll forever be grateful.

“When you begin planning the wedding, let me know, maybe I can come and stay while you prepare everything,”

“Of course,” I interject before Oliver can object. He loves his mom more than anything, but I think even he has his limits sometimes.

Waving goodbye, and with one final embrace, we leave Cynthia and climb back into the car, heading for the airport once again.

As we land at Sea-Tac, I stand mesmerised at the baggage-claim, watching the bags circle on the belt, waiting to be retrieved by their owner. As ours finally arrive, Oliver reaches over and drops them by our feet. Walking towards the exit, he grasps my hand, and wrapping his arm over my shoulder he tries to reassure me, “We can do this,” he whispers into my hair as he kisses my temple.

“I know,” I say, a small but hesitant smile curling on my lips.

“Come on,” he reassures again as we step out into the mild afternoon Seattle air.


Pushing the door open not long after, I look around at the apartment and it’s as if nothing has changed. It’s tidy which can only mean Amalia has been in recently knowing we’d be home, and the smell of fresh laundry can only mean she’d changed the bed linen too. As Oliver drops the keys by the door, leaving our cases for now, he wanders towards the kitchen, “We should probably head down to the grocery store to get some food, it was near empty when we left,”

“Ok,” I call out as I shift through the mail from the mailbox downstairs.

“Oh—, never mind,” he shouts and with a curious frown above my brows, I walk into the kitchen where Oliver looks over his shoulder to me and gestures for me to come closer. As I approach the fridge, my eyes widen when I see that it’s fully stocked.

“Amalia,” we both murmur, a smile curling on our lips as we look to each other.

My best friend. I don’t think I could have chosen anyone better.

As I shake my head with a small chuckle, my phone chimes from inside my jacket pocket and when I pull it free, my eyes widen a little when I see Jake’s name on the screen.

‘When you get back, can we meet for lunch? J’ He asks.

Oliver looks to me, cocking a brow as he reads the message.

“You want to?”

“I mean, I never really got to thank him for calling for an ambulance, he got me there when you were stuck in traffic,”

“I mean—, I guess,”

“Why’d you say it like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you don’t trust that I’ll be safe,”

“Sunday—, seriously? After everything we’ve been through, why would I have a problem?”

“I’m not saying you do Oliver, it was just your tone,” I say, my voice a little snappier than I’d intended it to be.

With a furrow of his brow, Oliver shrugs his shoulders and closes the door, shaking his head a little and turning away from me, heading back into the entryway, removing his coat and toeing off his shoes. I can’t help but feel bad for how I’d spoken to him, and so with my tail between my legs, I follow behind him, removing my coat and shoes and then padding towards the couch he’s slouched down on to.

Straddling his lap, I rest my arms around his neck, peppering kisses along his jaw, “I’m sorry,” I say quietly, my lips trailing down onto his neck, “You know that I’ll be ok, I promise,”

“I know it’s just—, it’s being back here, I thought I could handle it,”

“You can,” I say as my lips rest against the hollow at the bottom of his neck, my hands grazing over his chest.

Smirking as his eyes flutter closed, I nip at the skin of his neck, moving my lips up to his lobe, sucking on it gently and breathing heavily into his ear, my breath hot, watching as goosebumps rise on his skin.

“Sunday,”

“Mhmm,”

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” I smirk again.

“Well I can honestly say from how fucking hard my cock is, you’re definitely up to something,”

“And what if I don’t stop?” I cheekily whisper into his ear.

“Then I guess I’ll just have to teach you a lesson,” he chuckles softly, his hands grabbing greedily at my ass, hidden by the denim of my jeans. I feel the same pleasurable ache growing in between my legs.

“Sunday,”

“Mhmm?” I hum again.

“Bedroom—, now,”

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