All Along | ✓

Chapter Twenty-Three

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"When I'm with you, I don't breathe quite right."

- F. Scott Fitzgerald

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Oli's POV

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"I can do those Oli," Mama comes into the kitchen while I'm standing at the sink, my shirt sleeves rolled up to my elbows as I prepare to do the dishes. I gently swat her hands away as she tries to shoo me out of the kitchen. Zoey King is five foot nothing compared to my 6'6", but I'm not afraid to admit my mother scares the shít out of me sometimes. Both of them do, really. And I love them all the more for it.

"I've got it Mama, go sit with the others," I tell her, pointedly blocking her way when she tries to load things into the dishwasher.

"Oli King, are you trying to boss me around?" She asks, looking up at me with brows raised and hands on her hips. Oh no.

My eyes widen and I shake my head. "Wouldn't dream of it. Just gently suggesting. Please?"

She rolls her eyes at me, but reluctantly lets me win. "Fine. Just this once." She reaches up to pat my cheek affectionately. "You're a good boy."

My cheeks heat at her words. I'm thirty years old and my mother is calling me a 'good boy'. For fúck's sake. I hide my eye roll from her as she leaves the kitchen, putting the plug in the sink and filling it up with hot water and detergent.

"Aww," I spin around, gaze landing on my best friend who gives me a big cheesy grin "You're such a Mama's boy."

My eyes narrow on her to feign being angry. I don't think I could ever really be angry with her. "You heard that, did you?"

"Her calling you a good boy?" She asks as she sets her plate in the dishwasher. She glances up at me with a teasing smile, "I did indeed. Cutest shít I've ever heard."

I shake my head at her, watching as she loads the last few dishes in the dishwasher. Once it's turned on, she picks up a clean tea towel. "I can do these," I tell her softly, meaning the few pots and pans that couldn't be put in the machine, "We can just let them air dry. Go join the others."

Luna stands up a little straighter and her head tilts to the side. I can't help but mirror her action, a tiny affectionate smile creeping onto my lips. She's a little under a foot shorter than me and much smaller than I am. And yet, admittedly, I'm intimidated. Somewhere along the lines of our friendship, she stopped being a kid and became a woman. Ever since then I've been fúcking terrified for many reasons. Namely, what that means for her and - the scariest part for me - for our friendship. How the hell do I act around this incredible 26-year-old woman who I've known since she was eight and love with all my heart? This smart, talented, sophisticated, funny girl that I know so much about and yet so little.

I still haven't figured it out.

So when she stares up at me like that, I don't know what she's going to say or do. Which is why my heart speeds up just a little bit and I hold my breath, waiting for her response.

Eyes sparkling, she asks, "What if I just want to spend some time with my best friend, Oli?"

And I can breath again. Sort of. I crack a smile, turning back to the sink and turning off the running water. The kitchen is suddenly much quieter and I can now hear the faint laughing echoing from from our families outside. "Then by all means, be my guest, Little One."