A Bird in the Oven - Kata Cuic Page 0,12

horrifying level of torture.

She yawns. “I want citations. Where, exactly, did you read this information?”

“I do not remember.” Honestly, right now, I don’t.

I literally cannot think of a single time in my entire existence that I have been simultaneously desperate to escape and to get closer. Both seem equally impossible. Liv has her arms wrapped around me and is essentially using my body as her personal pillow. I am not about to ask her to move to the other side of the couch where—normally—only our feet would be in contact. Since this level of affection is such a rare occurrence, I am not willing to spare myself this anguish by pushing her away.

She chuckles. The vibrations make me want to grind my teeth until they are no more. “So, you’re saying you want me to move in with you for the next two months on the grounds that being in a male’s living space will heighten my fertility by bathing me in sexually suggestive pheromones. And you expect me to haul all my stuff over here without being able to point me to the specific place that you imbibed this rather interesting little tidbit?”

“That is correct,” I grit out. “I will help you, but the additional exercise will also be beneficial. Luckily, neither of us drink much nor smoke. We eat relatively well. I lift weights every morning before work. I do not mean to insult you, but you could stand to be a little more physically active in the interests of optimal health to achieve the desired outcome.”

She scoffs. Even that unhappy sound sends bolts of electrical current rippling through my tense body. “I’m not lifting weights with you, Ollie.”

“I will purchase a treadmill for you. We can exercise together every morning before work. If you live here, then you cannot worm your way out of it by sleeping in until the last minute.”

“Sleep is a vital component of health,” she argues. “You should feel comforted that I get an adequate amount unlike so many other people our age.”

That is a fair point. I should probably make an effort to get a little more sleep during the next two months. “Fine. I will sleep in with you, then we can exercise after work.”

“Yeah, you just love the tight bodies,” she mutters against my chest.

I am very proud of my toned body. I have never been particularly athletic, and sports are absolutely out of the question. It was not until college that I discovered lifting weights is an excellent center for my mind, though I do have to work through the physical discomfort. Oh, wait. She is not talking about me.

“I thought we mutually agreed not to bring up the topic of the people we have had sex with in the past?”

“That is correct,” she mumbles.

Olivia is the type of person who always keeps her word even if it inconveniences her greatly. It bothers me that she is struggling with this. Mr. Hooper suggested these other women were part of my bigger problem, so perhaps it is prudent if I do not point out her inability to stop mentioning them.

“I will devote everything to you and you alone,” I reaffirm for her.

She sighs. “Ollie, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but…can we stop talking and just watch the movie?”

I cannot believe she is requesting my silence either. “You always want to talk.”

“Yes, and you’re usually the quiet one. Which is why I said, ‘I can’t believe I’m saying this.’”

I still cannot figure out a good reason for her request, but I am willing to oblige whatever she asks of me. Since I cannot distract myself with words, I will distract myself with touch.

I have never been able to touch before. To be clear, Liv is not diametrically opposed to me touching her. We have hugged. Exchanged completely platonic kisses on the cheek. I have even wrapped my arm around her shoulders, but I have never allowed myself this level of exploration of the topography and texture that is Olivia.

Her light brown hair slides through my fingers like silk. The strands are quite kinked, definitively curly on the spectrum of hair. The strands are coarse and catch against each other and the pads of my fingertips. Rolling several of them between my fingers is a mesmerizing sensation. This would make an excellent calming technique that would not result in injury. Her back rises and falls with every breath she takes that I feel against my chest. I glide my hand down