Eccentric ✓

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Three months, and it felt like constantly missing Bill was suddenly part and parcel of Oliver's existence. He could barely remember how it had felt before he'd met the omega; all that was left was after, a gaping hole in his heart that nothing could fill. There were only so many times he could spar and play laser tag and all other sorts of distracting games to keep the pain at bay.

"G'night Oli," the last of the staff called out.

Oliver waved distractedly, too busy cleaning down the bar. Something was cooking in the kitchen at the back, and it smelled fucking delicious.

Edward had started his lessons, so he sometimes used the bar's kitchen to practice on his recipes. Oli also had a feeling he was doing it to impress a certain omega, but no one would hear that from him.

Spurred by the delicious smell, he finished up with the bar and the books in record time.

He was going to barge into the kitchen, but then decided to sneak instead. Ever since they'd hired Jesse, Edward had become a distracted mess, so of course it was payback time for Oliver, taking advantage of the situation to scare the daylights out of Ed anytime he could.

Very, very gently, he eased the door leading to the back open and tiptoed into the room.

He was just turning round the corner when he saw what he was definitely not meant to see.

Edward, holding up a spoon of some delicious dessert – lemon meringue pie, maybe? – towards Jesse's lips. Both their eyes were locked on each other's and half lidded with desire, as Jesse closed his mouth around the spoon, letting out a soft moan.

Nope, nope, nope, nope.

Oli snuck back the way he came, closing the door behind him. He let out an amused snort. He knew it'd only been a matter of time before those two said fuck it to Jesse's rules and jumped each other.

It took him a second to notice there was someone in the bar.

"Sorry, we're clo–" his words abruptly cut off when he noticed who exactly it was that came in.

Bill Anderson, looking even more dastardly handsome than the first time Oliver had seen him, a shy, almost nervous smile on his face. His dark hair was a little long, his pale skin glowing and healthy, and his muscles strained the fabric of the shirt he wore.

"Bill," Oli breathed. He cleared his throat because his voice came out hoarse.

"Hi," Bill answered, biting his lower lip and peeking up at him through his eyelashes.

Fucking hell, he looked so fucking good. Oli had to dig his claws into his palms to keep from jumping over the bar and into his arms.

Bill slid out of the barstool, and Oliver felt his heart jump into his throat.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but it seems to me like you haven't forgotten about me."

He was walking around the bar, towards Oliver. Oliver suddenly couldn't breathe.

"You're not wrong," he managed to force out.

Bill made it around the bar until he was standing directly in front of Oliver.

His voice was husky when he whispered, "You waited."

Oliver didn't know if he was about to laugh or cry. "I waited."