Chapter 30: Just Checking
Oliver sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The early morning light spilled through the gap in his curtains. His mind, however, wasn’t on the weather or the hour. It was immediately on Del.
He remembered last night—how shaken she’d been, her body tucked in on itself like she was trying to disappear. It was the first time he’d ever seen her like that. And it stuck with him. Not because it made her seem fragile, but because he couldn’t stand that someone had done that to her.
Whoever it was—whoever made her feel like she needed to lock the world out—he hated them without even knowing their name.
Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he stood in nothing but his sweatpants. The air felt cooler against his bare chest, but he hardly noticed. He padded softly to the hallway, hesitating just outside Del’s door.
His hand hovered mid-air, unsure whether to knock or just leave her be. She needed space; that much was clear. But part of him couldn’t help it—he just wanted to see her, even if it was for a second.
Before his knuckles could touch the door, he heard another one open behind him.
He turned.
Del stepped out of the bathroom at the far end of the hallway, wrapped in a robe the color of oatmeal and soft-looking enough to sink into. Her damp hair was twisted into a towel on top of her head, and her skin still glistened faintly from the shower. There was a relaxed quality to her movements, but the moment she saw him, her body stiffened slightly, and that invisible wall he knew so well began to rise.
Her eyes narrowed slightly as they landed on him. “What are you doing here?”
“I was just… checking in,” Oliver said, clearing his throat. “Wanted to see how you were… if you were okay.”
Del didn’t answer right away. Her gaze flicked to his bare chest, then back to his face with an unreadable expression. She wasn’t blushing, not exactly—but there was a tension in her posture now, like she was trying to reel herself in.
“I’m fine,” she said eventually.
Oliver nodded, taking half a step back, giving her space. Still, he couldn’t help it—his eyes swept over her, taking in the way the robe hugged her waist and how the damp fabric clung just slightly to her thighs. A droplet of water slid slowly from her neck to her collarbone.
He looked away quickly, jaw tightening. It was stupid. It was nothing. She was just fresh out of the shower. But still… God.
Del didn’t seem to notice his lingering stare—or maybe she did and simply chose to ignore it. Without another word, she walked past him. Her bare feet made no sound on the wood floor.
“Last night…I didn’t ask for help, Oliver,” she said as she stood by the door. She didn’t open it yet.“You could have just…stayed in your room.”
Oliver swallowed hard, resisting the very male urge to shift his stance. “You were screaming, Del. I just... couldn’t ignore it.”
She crossed her arms, which only made the robe tug tighter across her chest. “You should’ve. You should’ve stayed in your room.”
Oliver ran a hand over the back of his neck. “I get what you’re trying to tell me, Del. I do,” he said, voice low, his eyes not quite on her face. “But pretending I didn’t hear you like that? That would’ve felt worse.”
Del opened the door slowly but did not step aside. Oliver instinctively took a half step back, but it wasn’t enough to cool the rising heat between them.
Her scent hit him, and for a second, it scrambled his thoughts. His eyes flicked downward before he could stop it; he glimpsed a bare thigh where the hem shifted and the curve of her collarbone. Something tugged hard in his chest. And lower.
She kept going like she didn’t notice. Or maybe she did, and she just didn’t want to deal with it. “Look, I’m saying it plainly: you didn’t have to play hero. I had it under control.”
“You were thrashing in your sleep, Del. Crying.” His jaw tightened. “You didn’t have it under control.”
Del’s fingers tightened around the edge of the door. Oliver saw it—that moment of vulnerability. But she shut it down just as quickly, her eyes narrowing.
“Are you even listening to me?” she asked, narrowing her eyes, noticing the slight shift in his expression.
“I am,” he muttered. His gaze had dipped again, completely against his will, and lingered for half a second too long before he pulled it back up to her face. “Believe me, I’m trying.”
“You’re trying?” Her brows lifted, suspicious.
Del looked down, maybe to avoid his gaze or just to be done with the conversation. But as her eyes traveled downward, they suddenly widened.
Her breath caught. “Oh my god,” she blurted, eyes snapping back up to his face like she'd touched something hot.
Oliver froze. He followed her gaze and winced.
“Shit. Sorry,” he muttered, tugging at his waistband a little uselessly. “I literally just woke up. I mean… I’m sure you know how these things are early in the morning.”
Del looked like she was trying to unsee it, blinking rapidly as color climbed up her face. “Why is it like—like that?”
He tried to suppress a grin. “Del… it’s morning. That’s just… biology. Standard male anatomy doing its thing.”
She gasped, horrified. “I do not need a biological explanation right now.”
Oliver laughed under his breath. “Right. Sorry. I forgot how… delicate you are.”
“I am not delicate!” she snapped, her voice a pitch too high. “I just don’t usually see people’s situations first thing in the morning!”
He rubbed the back of his neck, that damn crooked grin tugging at his lips. “Look, I didn’t plan it, alright? It’s not like I saw you and boom—” He stopped himself. “Never mind. Forget I said anything.”
Del’s eyes went round. “Saw me and what?”
“Nothing." He shifted, clearly not in a hurry to actually leave.
“You should—” she began, panicking. “You should do something about that.”
His brows lifted slightly, a slow grin threatening the corner of his mouth. “Do something about it?”
“I mean—!” Her hands flailed slightly, palms up like she could physically throw the embarrassment away. “Take a cold shower or punch a wall or meditate or something. Just… do whatever guys do when they wake up like that. Or just deal with it.”
He grinned now, full and amused. “Wait, what?”
“Goodbye, Oliver,” Del said quickly. Her face was red as she shut her door firmly.
Oliver stood in the hallway for a second, still smiling to himself, before heading back to his room—though admittedly with a longer, colder shower than usual.