Confession Of A Nerdoholic

by Savannah Blevins

  I laughed, allowing my hand to run down to the back of his neck. “Good morning to you too, sunshine.”

  He looked up at me from under his messy hair and grinned sheepishly. “Who let that damn thing out of its cage?” he asked, throwing the sun a scowling look.

  “Beats me.” I shrugged. “But it’s probably a warning. Even though this ancient park has been abandoned, people still use the running trails. Joggers may start arriving soon.”

  Oliver slowly sat up until he looked into my eyes. “Are you trying to say that having sex on a playground isn’t appropriate in the daytime?” A small smirk developed on his lips.

  “Not me,” I assured him. “But other people, less adventurous people, would disagree with me.”

  “Oh.” He laughed.

  “Unfortunately for us, some of those people carry badges that allow them to put handcuffs on us and charge us with silly crimes like public indecency.”

  His mouth dropped open in mock horror. “The bastards!”

  I nodded in agreement. “The way of the daylight world.”

  He scoffed loudly, rolling over. “Then I much prefer the night. May I roam the dark abyss of the midnight realm with you?”

  My lips smoothed into a line as I pretended to think it over. “I’ll think about it.” I tapped my finger on my chin. “However, I’d be much more inclined to agree if I wasn’t so hungry.”

  His eyes narrowed as his hand traced down his neck over the dark bruises I’d left. “You mean I wasn’t enough to satisfy you?”

  “You were just a snack.” I licked my lips enticingly. “But if you want, I’ll make a meal out of you later.”

  He chuckled darkly as he sat up. “I’ll remember that.”

  So would I.

  He stood, reaching out his hand to me. I took it, allowing him to help me up. I stood there watching in a daze as he fumbled around gathering up our clothes. He threw me an odd look as he handed me my panties. “What?”

  “I like you.” It came out like a confession rather than a fact.

  His smile grew as he slipped his boxers up over his hips. “I hope. Or I just pulled out all my best moves for nothing.”

  I rolled my eyes while I put on my own clothes. “I’m being serious.”

  One moment he was buttoning his jeans, and the next I found him lifting me up in the air, wrapping my bare legs around his waist. “I know.” He smiled, pulling my face down to kiss my lips. “I like you too.”

  I smiled against his lips. He gave me an affectionate squeeze across my backside. “I don’t sing Star Wars to just anybody, you know?”

  “That’s probably a good idea.” I chuckled, eliciting a playful smack on my ass.

  Before our playtime could go further, because that was where my lips were persuading us to go, my stomach roared again. He kissed my cheek, setting me back down on the ground. “Come on, let’s find you a more fulfilling snack.”

  We dressed and exited the empty playground without notice. We headed back to Oliver’s apartment because it was closer than mine. Luckily, only a few people witnessed our walk of shame. A little old lady walking her tiny, yet extremely furry dog gave us a disgusted “humph” as we walked past, but quickly changed her tune when I flashed her a fang-filled smile. A few blocks later, a random frat boy gave Oliver an awkward high five as he passed. The most humorous and memorable of encounters came when we rounded a corner, only to run head first into Sloan and Preston. We each stumbled backward, apologizing profusely before we realized who we’d run into.

  “Elle?” Sloan asked with eyes opened wide.

  “Sloan?”

  Sloan wore nothing but a long sleeved flannel shirt and a large ten-gallon hat. Preston was, of course, shirtless, left only with his jeans and an extra-large belt buckle. We studied each other for a moment, taking it all in. “Where are your clothes?” I finally managed to ask.

  “Where’s your dignity?” She laughed, poking a finger into my crazed hair.

  I shot her a look, pointing at her pant-less figure, daring her to start comparing dignity with me. She scratched her head underneath the oversized hat. “I don’t know.” She glanced down at herself. “Where my clothes are, I mean. We were actually in the act of backtracking in hopes of figuring that one out.”

  “I think I remember taking your bra off while we were still at the bar,” Preston said sleepily. “Or maybe it was your pantyhose.”

  I shook my head, grinning at her. “Nice one, Sloan. I mean, losing your clothes? I thought that only happened to Ava on Margarita Mondays.”

  She gave me a short scowl. “You look wonderful, by the way. Is that dirt on your face?”

  She had me there, although the merry-go-round was cleaner than you would think, or at least it used to be. “Do you need help finding your clothes?”

  She sighed loudly for her own benefit, because it prompted Preston to pull her into his side. “No. I think it’s a lost cause. Anything I lost at that bar, I don’t really want back.”

  “True. Some lonely geek probably stole your panties.”

  “Ugh.” She groaned. “Thank you for that image.”

  Right after, Oliver added a very offended. “Hey!”

  I turned to him, kissing his shoulder. “You’re a nerd, sweetie, not a geek. There is a difference.”

  “There is?” Sloan asked, but quickly changed it to a statement. “I mean, there is!”

  I threw her a dirty look as Oliver frowned. Luckily, Preston intervened. “Dude. I’m pretty sure geeks don’t leave the bar with their fingers halfway up a vampire’s skirt. You’re safe.”

  Oliver gave himself a very self-reassuring nod, and I tried not to smile. The boys gave each other sleepy goodbyes, promising to hang out again in the near future, as Sloan gave me a quick hug. “I expect a full report by noon tomorrow.”

  I gave her a silent salute as we continued our walk home. Oliver’s apartment complex made me drool. I’d been there several times now, and it still left me awe. The place was fully furnished, especially when compared to my place, where I considered a couple Johnny Depp posters extravagant artwork. Oliver led me straight to the kitchen, pulling out a chair at the table while Scuba affectionately tried to maneuver his very large body into the chair with me.

  Oliver started going through the cabinets, and suddenly Scuba was less interested in me and more interested in his bowl. “I don’t have that many options,” he explained sadly, opening random cabinets, only to find them empty. He filled Scuba’s bowl with food before going to check the last cabinet next to the fridge. “I don’t suppose you’re a fan of Cap’n Crunch?”

  “The Captain?” I smiled. “We go way back. Care to fix me a bowl while I remove my fangs?”

  He smiled, relieved, as he retrieved milk from the fridge. “Sure. There is a bathroom right around the corner.”

  I scurried off into the bathroom because I’d been unwilling to tell him how badly I needed to pee. After accomplishing all the necessities, including the removal of my fangs, I took the time to look at myself in the mirror. Sloan had been right. My hair was horrendous. It literally stuck out in every direction, and the back was wadded up in knots. I looked like Medusa, except my snakes were on crack. I tried to comb my fingers through it, but it was impossible to tame. I eventually gave up and returned to the kitchen. I tried to remind myself he hadn’t run away screaming yet, so maybe that was a good sign, or maybe his glasses weren’t as strong as I thought.

  We were both relatively quiet as we devoured our breakfast. We did manage to throw in a few mouth-full laughs at each other, especially after he caught me trying comb my hair again.

  “Don’t hurt yourself.” He laughed, between bites. “You can use my shower if you want. That looks like it could use some conditioner.”

  It was always reassuring when a boy referred to your hair as “that” because he was too afraid to call it by its proper name. I stuck my tongue out at him. “Not everyone can be blessed with such perfectly manageable hair as you. E
ven now, messy and knotted, your hair looks sexy. It’s not fair.”

  He snorted into his spoon. “That’s your opinion. Personally, I think yours looks rather distinguishing.”

  “Distinguishing?” I sipped the last of my milk out of the bowl. “Thanks a lot. That’s just a nice way of saying you’re uniquely ugly in a way I’ve never seen before.”

  He rolled his eyes as he took our bowls to the sink. “Yep. That’s exactly why all I want to do is pull you into my bed and snuggle all day.”

  “You’re an odd one, Edwards.”

  “Back at ya, Duncan.”

  He pulled me into his side, kissing the top of my tangled head. Oliver took Scuba outside then we both took showers in separate bathrooms, despite my willingness to a share a shower with him. I thought he knew we were both too tired at the moment to handle any more strenuous activities. He sweetly offered me a pair of his pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt. When I walked into his bedroom, I found him lying in his bed already snuggled up next to a pillow, wearing only his boxers and glasses. I reflexively bit my lip.

  Rest, I told myself, I needed rest first. I stepped over Scuba, who now had a very large bone to chew on, and slowly crawled onto the bed and replaced the pillow with myself. He instantly moved closer to me. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  His hair was still wet, and it felt cool against my flushed skin. “Sorry.” I already felt the urge to close my heavy eyes. “The hot water felt so nice.”

  “I know.” He yawned. “It makes you sleepy.”

  I hummed my agreement. Our breaths slowed, and I felt myself sinking deeper into him.

  ***

  I awoke a little after three o’clock. Oliver was still asleep, having rolled over onto his stomach. I lay there staring out at his room, thinking as I noticed the large flat screen TV for the first time. I sat up, cocking my head as I examined it. “Elle?” His voice still sounded groggy as his finger tapped my side.

  I looked innocently over at him.

  “What are you thinking so hard about?” He rolled over so he could see me better.

  I looked at the TV and then back to him. “I realized I still have questions about you.”

  The happiness in his face faded as he propped himself up on his elbow. “I’ve been moving too fast, haven’t I?” He sighed before adding, “Shit.”

  “No. I didn’t mean it like that, and if I did, it wouldn’t be your fault. I attacked you on top of a library desk, for heaven’s sake. It’s just, I still have things I want to know about you.”

  “Okay.” He sat up next to me, continuing to rub his hand over my leg. “Ask me anything.”

  I shot a quick glance back at the TV and figured, what the hell? “Are you rich?”

  He stared at me a moment before busting out into laughter. “I guess it looks that way, doesn’t it?” He ran his fingers through his hair. “No, Elle. I am definitely not rich.”

  My eyes narrowed in thought. “But…”

  He held up his hand. “This isn’t my condo. It belongs to my aunt. She owns the entire complex. She agreed to let me live here free of charge as long as I was continuing my education. As soon as I graduate, I’m back out on the streets.”

  It was silent for a moment as I took in his words. “So, you’re a poor college kid too?”

  His smile grew. “With a very generous aunt.”

  I didn’t know why, but I felt mildly relieved. It made us even again. He continued to look over at me expectantly. “Anything else?”

  I smiled as I wiped the sleep out of my eyes. “Yes. I want to know everything.”

  He sighed, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “You sure?”

  I ran my finger down the rim, biting my lip. “I’m positive.”

  He gave me a resigned grunt as he scooted back against his pillow, adjusting himself into a comfortable position. “Okay, but remember, you already had sex with me. You can’t take it back.”

  I rolled my eyes dramatically, crawling over to straddle his waist. “Just give it to me straight. I want to know.”

  “Well,” he began, pulling me up closer, “I may or may not own a pair of Power Ranger pajamas.”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but he beat me to the punch. “Not the pink one,” he said quickly, predicting my question. “It’s the green one. He’s much more manly.”

  “Of course.” I tried to stifle my giggle. “Please continue.”

  He grinned up at me, laughing. “Did I mention I can’t cook? I almost burned my house down trying to make a Pop Tart once.”

  “But you baked me cookies.”

  “I brought you cookies,” he said, shooting me a shy smile. “You assumed I baked them.”

  My mouth gaped. “You got me fake cookies?”

  “Fake? They weren’t fake. They were eatable.” He tried to look offended and apologetic all at the same time.

  “What else?” I demanded seriously, but I kept giggling as I tried to scold him.

  He immediately started shaking his head. “Not yet.” He grinned triumphantly. “Now it’s your turn.”

  I frowned, having expected it wouldn’t be that easy. “Remember,” I said, smiling at him, “you already bribed me with fake cookies. You can’t take them back.”

  He snorted, tickling my sides, and I fell over in a fit of laughter. I knew from the very moment I laid on eyes on Oliver Edwards that the sex would be amazing, but I was pleasantly surprised to find out that everything else about him was just as good. He hovered over me with his dazzling eyes, glistening down at me, and I felt an overwhelming happiness build inside of me. “Spill it, missy.”

  I settled back against his pillow, deciding which embarrassing life fact I wanted to start with, and decided upon the one prudent to this conversation. I looked him dead in the eye, keeping my face utterly serious. “I’ve watched Return of the Jedi thirty-six times.”

  He stared at me a second, his eyes narrowing, and then without notice, he busted out in a round of laughter. “You’re a nerd. I knew it!”

  I couldn’t deny it, and I wouldn’t, anyway. We both continued to laugh as he rolled over on top of me, showering me with kisses.

  Chapter

  Twenty-One

  WARNING SIGNS

  Oliver and I became an inseparable pair. We switched roles effortlessly between our tutor and student relationship, baker and customer, and my personal favorite, boyfriend and girlfriend.

  Yes. Oliver Edwards was my boyfriend.

  It was official.

  We confirmed it on social media and everything.

  We continued our daily tutoring sessions at our spot in the library. He expanded my coffee knowledge by allowing me to sample his every day, and I always sneaked him a cupcake when he wasn’t looking, for old times’ sake. Sometimes we even made a detour to the poetry section, even though the secret spot wasn’t required for us to be alone. We always went to Oliver’s apartment when we wanted privacy.

  Oliver’s couch was the ideal make-out place. It was made of some kind of special Italian leather. I could sit on that couch and kiss Oliver for ages. We always went to my place for dinner, though. Oliver barely had plates, let alone pots and pans.

  He stood behind me, his nose stuck in the air, appreciatively sniffing toward the pot I pulled off the stove. His hair was still wet from the shower he’d taken. He’d been in the laboratory all day perfecting some kind of sciency cocktail for his latest project. He said he needed to wash the chemical smell off.

  I figured if Oliver wanted to get naked in my bathroom, so be it.

  He inched closer to the bubbling pot. “What is that?”

  I held up the pot of steaming liquid, moving it to a cold burner. “Soup.”

  “Yes. I can see that. What kind? It smells divine.”

  “You think everything I cook smells divine.”

  “What can I say? I’m honest to a fault.” He peeked into the pot. “It smells like tomatoes. Does it have tomatoes?”

  I smirked at him.
“Possibly.”

  We sat on the couch next to each other, our giant bowls of soup in our laps. He wiggled down deep into his usual spot, his face lit up with anticipation. “Ready to finish our Superman marathon?”

  I grabbed the remote off the coffee table and threw it at him. “How can I deny you when you smile at me like that? Plus, I could never turn down a date with Clark Kent.”

  Unless my other option was a date with Oliver Edwards. I’d choose Oliver every time. Sometimes I wondered if maybe he had a superhero alter ego as well, and he managed to hide it from me every day. We finished dinner, and Oliver reached over to take my bowl. “You don’t have to do the dishes,” I told him for the third time this week.

  “You cook and I clean. It’s how our relationship works.”

  I snuggled into my pillow, prepared to enjoy the sight of Oliver doing dishes in my kitchen. My cell phone beeped next to me, and I scooted up to grab it off the coffee table. A text caught my eye.

  Dad: Why haven’t you returned my calls? Who are you spending your time with that you can’t return a phone call. And your midterm grades haven’t arrived. Email them to me tonight.

  I threw the phone away from me the same time it marked the message as read. “Shit. When did he learn how to text?”

  Oliver turned off the water at the sink. “Who?”

  I stared at the phone that now lay on my floor. I waited for it to catch fire like hell had somehow found me. Oliver walked back into the living room. “Elle, are you all right?”

  “Yeah.” I very cautiously picked the phone back up and deleted the text. “I just wasn’t expecting my dad to text me. He’s never done that before.”

  I’d ignored his calls and voicemails. I guessed stooping to text was next on his list. “You don’t exactly look thrilled to hear from your dad.”

  I carefully set the phone back on the coffee table, on the farthest corner from where I sat. “He’s a tad overbearing.”

  “About what?”

  “Everything.”