Flint sidled up beside me. He ran a hand through his shoulder-length dark hair, eyeing Oliver like a man noticing an injured puppy—orkitten. His face crumpled and he nudged me with his elbow. “Do something.” His Texan accent thickened with his sadness. “He’s your boyfriend. Grow a pair, Booth.”
I cursed under my breath. Now I had two of my employees against me, and with the way Wylie’s client was staring, it was three against one.
Taking a deep breath, I stood from where I sat on the stool behind the register. I moved slowly, gathering as many thoughts as I could before I approached Oliver. Comfort wasn’t a strong suit of mine. I fucked people until their brain turned to mush, but I had a feeling it wouldn’t work this time.
I took a seat beside Oliver.
He glanced at me from the corner of his eye. He had on a pair of black headphones, music blasting so loud I could hear song lyrics from where I sat. KC’s jersey hung loose around his shoulders, and while it’d been sexy this morning, it made him look frail, especially with how sad he was.
He laid down his tattoo gun and slid off his headphones. In front of him, the fake skin was a mess, ripped in ways no onewould want their flesh to be. He’d been struggling a lot with tattooing on skin, and while there were aspects that came with practice, Oliver’s skills hadn’t advanced in the weeks he’d been here. I kept that tidbit to myself. He didn’t need to hear bad news from me.
“Hi,” he murmured.
“Hey.” I cleared my throat and peeked at Flint, who made ago ongesture with his hand. Fuck him. For as long as I’d known him, he’d never been in a relationship. What did he know? “You doing okay, Kitten?”
He blinked at me, mouth twisting. “What’s wrong with you?”
“What?” I straightened.
“You’re being nice. It’s weird. Don’t.” Oliver’s eyebrows dipped. “I don’t need sympathy. That man back there is an asshole. I told you, he’s not my dad.”
“Right.” At first, it’d been understandable that Oliver didn’t equate that idiot as his father, but now it was veering on concerning. Did he really not think the man was his dad?
Oliver rolled his eyes. “I mean, I know heis, but he’s alsonot, so I’m not going to be mad about it. He can go eat shit.” He went to slide the headphones back on, but I grabbed his wrist.
“You’re allowed to be upset about it, Kitten. I mean, fuck, he was a jackass. He used your mom. He was going to lay his hands on you. That’s un-fucking-forgivable.”
“I’m not upset.” His eyes told a different story, but he was putting up a wall, one I knew all about from experience. Oliver wasn’t the kind of person who would do well by cutting himself off from the world, but I wasn’t sure how to stop him, either. Maybe he was too soft, but that’s what I enjoyed about him. Because beneath that softness, there was also fire. An attitude. If he built that wall to hide behind, there’d be none of that. He’d be a shell.
Only the meanness would remain.
Not for the first time, I wished KC was here. I’d messaged him, and he’d said he’d head here after his next class finished, which meant he should be rocking up any time.
What should I do until then?
“Have I ever told you about my father?” The words slipped out of my mouth; there was no stopping them.
Oliver glanced back toward me, nose crinkling. “No.”
“He’s a DA.” I quirked a sardonic smile. “Usually, that’s supposed to mean he’s a good person, right? He prosecutes criminals and represents the city. My mom comes from money. Her family has a fuck ton of it. Part of me thinks they only married for optics. She liked how she looked marrying aman of the peopleand he loved the money Mom came with.”
Oliver settled, dropping his headphones against his shoulders. He turned toward me, tongue swiping across his bottom lip. Somewhere behind me, the bell above the door chimed, but I heard Flint handling the new arrival.
“Neither of my parents liked their kids very much. There’s four of us. Henry’s the oldest. He’s a lawyer, but he’s in family law. Then there’s Alicia, she’s a doctor. Then Luke, then me.”
When was the last time I’d talked about my family? I couldn’t remember. They were a topic I actively avoided. But Oliver needed to hear this, needed to know he wasn’t alone. And he was listening, his back straight, gaze firmly on my face.
“Our father’s not a terrible person.” The words tasted bitter on my tongue, but they were the truth. “Just a shitty fucking father. He was never around. His career was everything. And if we weren’t like him, striving for arespectablecareer, then we were disappointments. So, Luke and I are the delinquents of the family, I guess.”
Oliver’s mouth pressed in a thin line and his eyebrows furrowed, but he stayed still. Listening.
“After Luke wentrogue, Father’s words, not mine, my parents sent me to a boarding school. It was shitty, full of pretentious pricks. Rich spoiled brats. It’s where I met my buddy, Ripley.” I shrugged. “He was about the only friend I had in that place. I hated Father for it. Mom’s always been a bitch, made it known she never wanted kids, but I expected Father to defend me. Instead, he supported her. Let her send me away. He told me I washeading in the same direction as Lucas.”
Oliver made a sound in the back of his throat. He looked up to my brother, maybe even saw him as a father figure. How Luke could ever be a father, I didn’t know.
“Anyway, Father likes to tell me how disappointed he is that I chose to be a tattoo artist. He tells me it’s a waste of talent.” Okay, maybe he was a bad person. What kind of asshole treated his children that way? “Obviously, he isn’t as bad as your dad.” I laughed awkwardly because this was not helping. I was blabbing and out of my element. Talking about my home life wasn’t going to make Oliver feel better. “I’m fucking this all up, so I’m gonna shut the fuck up now.”
I went to stand, but Oliver caught my elbow. His wide brown eyes pooled with unshed tears.