Better Than Heaven (The Bachelor Brothers Book 1)

by Honey Holloway

  The whole class falls silent. I hold my breath, feeling even more anxious than when I walked into the room. I can feel Willow’s eyes on me as she tries to figure out something to say, but I don't want anyone to say anything. I can tell that Sabine is distressed, but I can't say I feel sorry for her. It feels as though she's bulldozed over my chest and now I can barely breathe. I opened up and this is what I get? To be told that my reality is unbelievable is laughable. This life isn't pretty but it's the one I've got. Putting it down on paper made it feel even more real.

  But I guess I should be glad that no one else understands. What happened between my mother and father in that car ended one life and ruined many others. These people looking at me like I’m crazy...they’re the lucky ones. They’re lucky to have the privilege of calling the piece of writing in front of them fiction and not realism.

  I can't take this anymore. I don't want to be here. I have embarrassed myself in front of my peers and Sabine has made me feel about three inches tall. I mutter something about having a headache as I stand to leave the classroom, forgetting to pack my bag and heading for the door.

  Blood is thumping in my ears as I storm away. Rumours travel fast. It won't be long until everyone is talking about my little breakdown in the seminar. My reputation is clearly on the line, but for once I couldn't give a damn.

  I guess that'll teach me not to make things personal…

  Willow

  I can't stop thinking about Oliver. After our seminar this morning, I should have known he wouldn't turn up to the afternoon lectures, but I've been looking out for him all the same. As our seminar came to an awkward close, I grabbed Oliver's things, planning to give them back to him in the afternoon lecture. But I can see now that his pride was hurt badly and he's not going to let that go easily. I guess it's safe to say that Oliver’s facade has finally slipped.

  I never expected him to have such a raw and emotional past. As far as I can tell from his attitude, he’s just a rich American boy used to getting what he wants. But if his short story is anything to go by, it seems that his life is more complicated than he's ever let on.

  Maybe I shouldn't be so judgemental. After all, you never know what's going on in a person's life. Sure, every time I see him, he's smiling. Sure, he acts entitled and it’s his least likeable quality. Sure, he makes me jealous of the things he has that I don’t. But if someone close to him died in a car crash because the driver was high...who can blame him for trying to hide that from the world?

  Now, all I want to do is let him know that he's not alone. I want to tell him things I've never told anyone. I want to let him know that things have never been easy for me either, so I know how he feels.

  And yet we’re not friends. We’re barely even acquaintances. Guys like him only open up once in a while and when they get shot down, they realise the reason they never opened up in the first place is because it hurts too much. I should know. Sometimes it feels like it’s easier to bear your own burdens than to share them with someone else. But I know one thing for sure. Being alone is even harder. And that's why I need to speak to him as soon as possible...to let him know he has someone.

  Now that classes are over for the day, I have to work my shift at the coffee shop. I lug my things - as well as Oliver's - over to the storeroom, all the while considering messaging Oliver. I guess he'll be wanting his things back, which would give me the perfect opportunity to talk to him, but I don't want him to think I'm being nosey. After all, the fact that we're not friends might make my concerns seem fleeting and fake. If I'm honest, of course I'm curious about what happened to him, but I have no plans to dig deeper if he's not interested in talking. I know if I were in his shoes, I’d want to forget the whole thing.

  To my surprise, however, fifteen minutes into my shift, I see him walk in through the door. The distress that was so evident on his face earlier is gone, and I know that he's used the past few hours to get his head together. He's got a reputation to maintain, after all. There's no queue so he comes straight up to the counter, offering me the warmest smile I've ever received from him.

  “Hey... how was the rest of class?”

  I raise my eyebrow. “Dull in comparison, I must admit. It was certainly less dramatic.”

  To my relief, Oliver laughs at my poor attempt at a joke. At least he's still in good spirits. “Well, I'm sorry to disappoint, but I won't be coming back to that class...I've requested a change in tutor. I think Sabine and I have reached the end of the road.”

  “I don't think she meant to offend you…”

  Oliver sighs. “Yeah, I can see that now...but I feel uncomfortable going back there after the way I acted. I plan to speak to her about the whole thing, but I think it's best if we part ways.”

  I nod in understanding. In his shoes, I would do the exact same thing. Still, it's nice to see that he's been mature about this whole thing. He could easily throw Sabine under the bus, but maybe I misjudged the kind of guy he is if I think he would do that. Today is showing me a new side to Oliver, and it's piqued my curiosity to say the least.

  “Well, it will be a shame not to see you in class anymore. Your stories always make me feel…well…”

  Oliver leans against the counter with a wry smile. “Go on... say what's on your mind.”

  “...hopeful? In the sense that when I read work by the other students, I feel as though I'm reading something written by a child. When I read something you've written... it's like delving into any good book. And just for the record... I always find your work entirely believable.”

  Oliver's cheeks turn red. I've never seen him blush before and it makes the corners of my mouth upturn.

  “Not what you were expecting?”

  “To be honest, Willow, absolutely not. I've never thought of you as one of my biggest fans…”

  “Don't flatter yourself, mate. I like you as a writer, not necessarily as a person,” I tell him, but my voice is soft. He smiles back and I know that he gets that I'm teasing him. I clear my throat.

  “Hey, I actually picked up your things from class...I can go get them for you.”

  “That would be great.”

  I leave my place behind the counter to go and find his bag. I hastily put all his papers in there earlier, so I feel a little bad that they're all crumpled, but he looks grateful as I hand it to him once I return. He glances inside his bag, looking for something in particular.

  “Here… I didn't want to leave without giving you this.” He hands me three pieces of paper covered in his messy scrawled handwriting. I quickly realise the paper contains the story I wrote for this week's class, and his annotations are written in just about every gap on the paper. I glance up at him and he smiles.

  “I never got to give you your feedback...you've always been so helpful in the workshops. In fact, wherever I head next, I doubt the feedback I get will be as useful as yours...I didn't want to leave the seminar without giving you something in return.”

  I find that I’m blushing now. It's irrational, but I've always felt that I was at odds with Oliver in some way. Now, as we’re exchanging niceties, everything is changing. Why do I feel so much closer to him than I did this morning? Why do I feel like we've made an unspoken bond through two small acts of kindness? Why does it feel like I've misjudged him all along when nothing has really happened to change my mind?

  “Thank you,” I tell him quietly. “I really value your opinion, actually.”

  Oliver smirks. “Look at us getting along nicely. Makes a nice change, doesn't it? Seems that this is the start of something beautiful.”

  I smile involuntarily. He seems to have that effect on me now, whether I like it or not. As he's turning to walk away, I get this strange feeling that it’s now or never. That if I want to be his friend, or even something more, I have to put myself forward now before he leaves and I don't get the chance.

  “I want to join your writer’s group,” I blurt. Oliver turns back to look at me with a smile.

  “I thought yo
u'd never ask,” he says as though he was certain I'd say it all along. “And as it turns out...our next meeting is tomorrow, right before my party. So I guess you'll have to attend both…”

  I can feel anxiety stirring inside me. I have so much work to do...taking a whole night off for some party is out of the question. And yet part of me knows that I can't keep living like this. Spending all my time alone is no way to live. And now that Oliver and I have struck up something that I don't understand...I want to see how far we can take this.

  I offer Oliver a smile.

  “What time? I’ll be there…”

  Chapter Three

  Oliver

  As days go, my Thursday was a mixed bag. I managed to lose my best tutor in the morning and humiliation was served for breakfast, but in the afternoon...well, Willow made it all better. After three years of asking, she’s finally agreed to come to my writer’s circle meeting.

  I had to try my hardest to hide my shock when she said she wanted to join. After all, she’s always seemed like a social recluse. I always took her rejection of asking her to join us as a personal thing, but after our little bonding session...well, it made up for the morning’s events.

  I still cringe thinking about how I walked out of the classroom. I still hate that I’m a talking point among my friends because of it. But knowing that I’ll see Willow tonight...it makes me feel alive. I’ve enjoyed these years of winding her up...she gives as good as she gets, after all...but now, I’m looking forward to the next step in our relationship.

  Getting along.

  And today is going to be great. I can feel it in my bones. I’ve been up since seven and I’ve made a fry up for Violet and I to eat before we study. She’s been lounging in my bedroom, but as the smell of eggs and bacon wafts through the apartment, she pops her head around the corner. She’s wearing an oversized tee and nothing else, but since my night thinking about Willow, I haven’t been able to look at Violet the same. After all, she’s my best friend. The benefits between us don’t make me feel romantically toward her.

  “Smells good,” she comments.

  “At least something does. Get a shower,” I tease, gesturing at her messy bed-head. She stayed over last night to distract me from the day I’d had, but Willow being on my mind was enough to keep me occupied anyway.

  Violet pouts at me, running a hand through her hair. “What? Suddenly you don’t think I look cute in the mornings?”

  I laugh as I serve up our food. “When have I ever said that you do?”

  Violet doesn’t respond, sitting down at the table and accepting a plate from me. As I tuck right in, though, she holds off, watching me intently. I pause with my fork close to my mouth.

  “Take a picture...it lasts longer.”

  She offers me a sad smile, reaching out to ruffle my hair. “I might just do that...hey, I was thinking…”

  “Don’t overexert yourself…”

  Violet rolls her eyes, and I can tell she’s not in the mood for my teasing right now. “Let’s leave coursework until another day...it’s been a while since we did anything fun!”

  “We were literally out drinking a few days ago...plus writer’s circle...plus we hung out last night and watched a movie…”

  “Right...but I thought maybe we could go somewhere. Like, you’ve been in Liverpool for three years now and you still haven’t been to the Beatles museum…”

  “Come on, Vi. You know that I think the Beatles are kind of overrated...especially considering this city produced Echo and the Bunnymen.”

  “Okay sure...but we could do something else. Just the two of us.”

  I look up at her with an amused smile. She looks so serious right now, as though we don’t spend every waking hour in each other’s presence. I dig into my food.

  “Look, I hear you. It’s nice outside...I’d like to do something fun. But let’s get real. Tonight we’re going to get super drunk which means tomorrow will be a write off. After my seminar yesterday I’ve got to tread carefully...I’ve got a new tutor to impress and my attendance record stinks. Let's study today and chill tomorrow, yeah? We can go to the museum or whatever. Though I don’t know why you’re so keen on that all of a sudden...we’ve never done that before.”

  Violet shrugs, avoiding my eyes. “Yeah, I know...I thought that’s why we should do it.”

  “Okay, so we will. Tomorrow. You can show me what all the Beatles fuss is about, right?”

  Violet nods, pushing her beans around her plate. She’s usually got a good appetite, so I can tell something’s up. I nudge her with my knee under the table.

  “Hey...I know coursework sucks, but I just want to keep on top of it.”

  Violet raises an eyebrow. “That’s never been a concern of yours before.”

  “What can I say...I’m a changed man.” I sigh. “It’s just...I was talking to Willow the other day, and she made me realize...well, I’ve got to start taking things more seriously.”

  “Willow? Who is Willow?”

  I frown. “You know her, Violet. She’s in our lectures. She serves us coffee twice a week. Vibrant blue hair, cute smile, curvy....”

  “Oh...yeah. Why were you talking to her?”

  “What, so I’m not allowed to talk to other people?” I laugh, shaking my head. “She’s kind of cool. I guess I’ve overlooked her a little in the past. She’s always around, but we never spend any time together...but she’s got a lot about her, you know? She’s one of the best writers I’ve met since moving here. She’s quirky, she’s funny without even trying, she’s not a suck up...I get the feeling she doesn’t care what people think. Like, either they like her or they don’t, but she won’t change for anyone. She makes me feel...excited, I guess? Like, I feel a bit nervous around her, but in a good way.”

  “I didn’t realize I asked for her life story,” Violet says with an aloof sniff. “Sounds like someone’s got a crush.”

  I can’t help smiling a little. “Yeah...maybe I do.”

  The whole room falls silent. It almost gives me a chill. Violet puts down her knife and fork and stands up abruptly, not looking at me.

  “You know what? I think I’ll grab a shower and head home.”

  “But I thought we were going to study today? And then we’ve got the writer’s circle…”

  “I’ll just come back later. I might go out and do something. And I know you’re busy, so…”

  “Well, maybe the girls are free? I heard Abby mention something about brunch on Bold Street…”

  “I’ll figure it out. Later.”

  Violet leaves the room without saying another word and I feel myself deflate in the chair. The atmosphere between us turned pretty cold the second I mentioned Willow. I don’t know what her problem is. Does she think Willow is beneath her? Or does she find it hard to understand Willow’s sarcastic demeanor and think she’s a bitch? She’s never expressed any feelings toward her in either direction...and of course, she just pretended not to know her, even though I’ve heard her mention Willow before. So is there something going on that I’m missing? Or am I imagining that Violet suddenly went cold?

  I guess I’ll find out tonight at the writer’s circle meeting.

  Willow

  For the first time in a while, I feel excited for the evening ahead. For once, I won’t be stuck at home working and listening to my noisy neighbors having fun around me. I’m even taking the opportunity to walk through town, meandering through Bold Street on a detour to Oliver’s apartment. I know that I shouldn’t be doing this, but I deserve this break, and I’m sure as hell not going to waste it.

  I should be nervous, I guess. I’ve never really hung out with my peers before. Even back when we were in first year and we were constantly encouraged to join societies or attend mixers, I was forced to keep to myself because I was working. Now, for the first time in three years, I’m making an effort. But I feel like I know these people well enough to have a good time tonight. I’ve got a cheap bottle of rose wine, my favorite yellow pant
s and black off-shoulder top on, and I’m feeling cute. Plus, seeing Oliver tonight feels like it’s going to be a bonus.

  I approach his flat with butterflies in my stomach, but they’re completely the good kind. I’ve never been nervous to mingle, I’ve just been in need of time. I guess tonight really has to go well for me to make some connections, but I’m quietly confident. At least I’ll come away from tonight feeling a little closer to Oliver.

  I ring for his flat and he buzzes me in, so I navigate the corridors alone, following the sounds of chatter down the hallway. It’s posh in here, much nicer than the normal halls of residence that students tend to be in. It’s worlds away from my grotty flat even though it’s only a ten minute walk from here. It makes me ache for what I could’ve had, but I push those thoughts aside. Tonight is supposed to be fun, and I intend to make it that way.

  I balance my wine in the crook of my elbow and awkwardly open the door. As I walk in, I see familiar faces all around. Some people are sitting down, but at least ten people are standing up just chatting. This writer’s circle is much bigger than I expected. And as I close the door, everyone looks around to see who I am.

  They don’t look impressed.

  I offer a smile, trying not to show my nerves, but everyone here looks at me as though I’m a total stranger. Their eyes are far from friendly. And then I catch Violet’s eye from across the room. She looks so effortlessly cool with her sharp bob and her boyish body shrouded in an oversized jumper. She’s nursing a glass of red wine and pursing her lips at me as though someone brought me in on the bottom of their shoe. No one makes an effort to greet me at all. Though plenty of people have simply carried on their conversations, it feels like the room has fallen silent.

  “Hi…” I say, awkwardly waving in the general direction of the group. “Nice to see you all…”

  I’m completely relieved when after a few agonizing seconds, Oliver pops his head around the corner. He’s got a jug of water in one hand and a glass of gin in the other and is smiling brightly. Violet’s eyes bore into mine for a final second before she turns her back on us completely.