“Well, I’m sure Bianca needs it. Why don’t you give it back to her?” Oliver looks beyond disappointed and starts to hand the pad over to me while I shake my head.
“Oh no, he can keep that. I’ve got a hundred of those things lying around.” Wanting to cheer Oliver up for reasons I don’t understand, I continue speaking to Carson. “He’s quite talented. You might want to look into signing him up for some classes or something. He’s light years ahead of where he should be, and he told me he’s never drawn before.”
Carson cocks his head at Oliver and gives him a sad look that I don’t quite understand before shaking it off and giving him a smile. “Oh yeah? What did you draw?” He opens the cover and flips to the first page with the sketch of the sad looking living room. He immediately freezes. His eyes move over the drawing again and again, but he doesn’t say a word.
“You can see all that shading he’s done on the couch and in the space under the coffee table? That’s super advanced for someone his age. He has a natural talent.” Oliver gives me a smile and I smile back at him.
“Did you tell him to draw this?” I’ve heard Carson annoyed, mad, and pissed off before. This seems beyond that. I look at his face and it’s still as stone. But his eyes? His eyes are full of outrage.
“No. I told him he could draw whatever he wanted. That’s what he chose. Why?”
He slams the cover of the pad closed. “Do me a favor and stay away from my kid.”
My mouth falls open in shock. What the fuck is that about? I haven’t done a single damn thing wrong. I was just in my own yard, minding my own business, whenhiskid came over tome. All I did was give him something to do. Why did that one picture set him off? I’m so flabbergasted that I don’t know what to say. I’m pretty sure my eyes are bugging out and my mouth is opening and closing like some kind of demented fish.
He takes Oliver’s hand and starts marching back towards the gate he came through, but Oliver pulls out of his hold. He runs back to me and wraps his arms around my leg. Instinctively, I reach down and pat him on the head. I’m not going to take my rage out on Oliver. It’s not his fault his uncle is completely insane.
“Thanks, Bianca.” He says, giving me another squeeze. I finally get it together enough to look back at Carson who is standing rooted in place. I see emotion after emotion cross his face that I really don’t understand. Anger is certainly there but there’s also confusion, happiness, and hurt.
“You’re welcome, Oliver.” With that he detaches himself from my leg and walks back to his uncle. I try to stop, but I can’t help getting in one last parting shot. The last word. Hey, it’s a flaw, I’m working on it. “You can come over and visit me anytime, kid.” Carson doesn’t even bother to look at me as they exit the backyard.
This is the second time I’ve met our new neighbor and the second time we’ve gotten into some kind of verbal altercation. I’d say that’s a rather bleak start. I swear, I don’t fight with people like this. I like to think I’m kind and thoughtful with a bit of a rebellious streak thrown in. There’s just something about that man that gets under my skin. If how he warned me to stay away from Oliver is any indication, I’d say that I’m under his as well.
Chapter Four
Carson
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
That did not go as planned. Not that I really had a plan, per say. I just figured the next time I saw Bianca we could have a pleasant, neighborly exchange to fix the bad impression I’d given her last week. Well, that certainly wasn’t pleasant. It wasn’t even in the same continent as pleasant.
There’s something about her that just pushes my buttons. The more she pushes, the more we argue, and the more we argue, the more I want her. I’d like to say that I didn’t jerk off to thoughts of her every day this week, but I can’t. I don’t understand what’s wrong with me. I like control, I like order, and Bianca appears to be anything but.
For a second there, when we touched hands, I felt something crazy. There was an awareness I’d never felt before. It was almost as if the simple touch of our hands woke up my body and every one of my cells was calling out to hers. Like her skin should be molded onto mine. That I should be deep inside of her, notknowing where she ends and I begin. She may have jerked her hand away from me, but I saw her face. I saw the desire in her eyes and the little shiver that went through her body. When she pulled her hand out of mine, for one insane moment, I wanted to snatch it back. If she was feeling even a fraction of what I was, then that was something I wanted to explore. It’s too bad she’d just as soon kick me in the balls as kiss me.
I’m certainly not doing anything to help the situation. It seems like every time I’m around her the button she pushes is the one for asshole. It wasn’t her fault that Oliver went over to her yard, and I know I was harsh about the GPS tracker. She just doesn’t understand the dangers out there. Boogeymen are real. They carry guns. They hurt people. They take kids. I’ve seen it time and time again, but she didn’t deserve my harsh rebuke or my tone. Even after spewing all of that at her, she didn’t shrink away. She gives as good as she gets and I like that. So does my cock apparently, judging by the semi-hard bulge in my jeans.
Now that Oliver’s safely tucked away in his bedroom, I decide to straighten the kitchen. I recognize that I’m more of a neat nick than most people. I like everything to be just so. If I went to a psychiatrist I’m sure they would tell me it has something to do with watching everyone in my family spin out and die around me without being able to do anything to stop it. Hence the control freak.
I’m about to sort through the mail that’s sitting next to my gun safe on the entry table when I spot the pad of paper Bianca gifted Oliver. Opening it, I look at the drawing again. Bianca wasn’t wrong, the drawing is good. Damn good. To be honest, I’d never be able to draw something like this. My drawing skills are closer to stick figure than Salvador Dali.
It’s embarrassing that I never thought to get Oliver any art supplies. I want to berate myself, but I know I’m doing my best. I mean, he has a ton of toys and books. I just dropped the ball onthe art supplies. Kids need so many things and I’m still learning as I go. If Bianca thinks he needs art classes maybe I should sign him up. Next time I see her, instead of biting her head off, I’ll try asking for recommendations since she seems to know about these things.
I do need to talk to him about this drawing though.
“Oliver, why don’t you go grab your watch and then come into the living room? I want to talk to you for a minute,” I call out to him.
When we’re settled on the couch together, I open the pad of paper to his drawing. The sight makes my heart hurt but he doesn’t seem upset at all. “Why did you draw this, buddy?”
“Bianca said I could draw whatever I wanted. Am I in trouble?” He looks nervous and I feel like a major ass for blowing up at Bianca about the drawing in front of him.
“Of course you’re not in trouble. I just wanted to talk to you about it. You never talk about this apartment.” He just shrugs his shoulders at me. That’s been his go-to response whenever I bring up the time before he moved in with me. “Do you want to talk about it?” He was being open and talking to Bianca. He even gave her a hug and invited her over for dinner. To say I was shocked would be an understatement. He seems to have taken a liking to her and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little jealous. I’ve been with him for months and he’s just recently warmed up to me.
I shouldn’t have told her to stay away from him. She didn’t do anything wrong. I was just freaked out by the perfect rendering of that apartment. I thought she was pushing him to remember things he didn’t want to, but if that’s what he chose to draw then maybe this is his way of processing things.
“Do you miss it there?” I ask gently.
“Sometimes.” Okay, he’s actually speaking about it. It might be a one-word answer but at this point I’ll take what I can get.