Eccentric ✓

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

Bill woke up from the best sleep he'd had in probably all his life, to a warm embrace. His lips curled up in an automatic content smile the second he smelled Oliver's homely scent of mangoes.

"You awake then, cutie pie?"

Bill wrinkled his nose at the pet name, and Oliver laughed. His eyes fluttered open to find Oliver looking down at him like he was the centre of the universe. His cheeks immediately grew warm and he looked away.

"What time is it?" his voice was hoarse with sleep.

Oliver reached across his chest so he could check his phone, which was resting on the bedside table. "Really early. It's four in the morning."

"Mm," Bill stretched like a cat, biting his lip with pleasure when everything ached.

Oliver's scent immediately thickened, which had his eyes flying open to see the alpha watching him with a gaze dark with lust.

"You look – and smell – like the cat who got the cream," he whispered, voice a low growl.

Bill shivered, feeling his cock stir. Some part of him felt like running away, like throwing all his walls up, because this was the part where he got comfortable. This was the part where he let himself be vulnerable and whatever alpha he was seeing proved themselves to be absolute trash.

The way Oliver was looking at him – Goddess, the way he'd felt last night – Bill wanted to tell him everything.

And that was dangerous.

Oliver's eyebrows furrowed. "Are you okay? You're doing a lot of thinking there."

"Risky, I know."

Oliver laughed, the sound warming Bill from inside out. Oliver was giving him that look – the look a few of the alphas from Bill's past had given him which said, 'You can tell me anything.'

But their reactions after had proven that he couldn't tell them anything.

"Hey, hey, stop it," Oliver scolded, immediately pulling him close and hugging him tight, making Bill realise he was on the verge of a panic attack.

"Sorry," he gasped. His eyes stung and he clenched them shut. "I want to tell you – I'm – I have – I'm not –" but the words wouldn't come, stuck in his throat like melted tar, cloying and choking.

"Stop," Oliver repeated. "You don't have to tell me anything. Not if it makes you uncomfortable."

Bill tried to control his breathing. "But I need to."

Oliver pulled back so he could meet Bill's eyes. "Not if it's going to push you into a panic." His fingers reached up to stroke Bill's cheek. "Whatever it is, you don't have to tell me. Spilling all your secrets is not a requirement for this relationship. If you could even call it that," he laughed awkwardly, his scent going bitter.

Bill reached up to clutch the fingers stroking his cheek. "I want to. Call it that, I mean. A relationship."

Oliver's eyes widened, and Bill heard his heartbeat stutter, his scent going warm. "Oh."

"That's why I want to tell you. I'm just so fucking scared," he whispered. He didn't meet Oliver's eyes, some part of him already resigning itself to rejection. Perhaps he wasn't meant to be loved. Perhaps he really was just fucked up and this was as close as he was going to get every single time before his heart finally shattered and he couldn't take any more.