Breathe (His Command Book 5) Page 11

  Marshall didn’t look disturbed. “So, in a week and a half?”

  “Officially, yes.” Oli ducked his gaze. “But it’s... it’s not like I don’t know. My heat went away early. That’s a pretty surefire sign. I’m usually pretty regular. I mean, it could be stress. We can both hope that it’s stress. But—”

  “I don’t hope that.” Marshall reached across the table and took Oli’s hand. Oli, surprised, released his coffee mug. It rocked in circles, then settled back in place, not a drop spilled. “I don’t hope that for a single second.”

  “You barely know me,” Oli choked out. Tears had begun to form in his eyes, and he blinked them away with urgency. “We had sex one time in a kink club bathroom, of all places. That doesn’t exactly make a relationship.”

  “No. It doesn’t. But our history runs deeper than that.” There was a change in Marshall’s eyes, like his tarnished soul had been polished back to a shine. “From the first day we met, there was something there. You wouldn’t have invited me onto your Kik otherwise. I’m fairly certain that you’re not the type of man who gives away his time to anyone who asks for it.”

  “Maybe I am,” Oli murmured. He felt so miserable about himself that he couldn’t commit to any positivity.

  “You’re not.” Marshall squeezed his hand again. “And believe it or not, I’m not a man who spends my time with just anyone. Talking to you has been a gift, Oliver. It doesn’t matter that the time we spent together was online—the person I know you to be through our conversations is real, and he’s sitting across from me now. I’m sorry that this happened when it did—when you can’t feel unending, life-changing joy over the prospect of becoming a father—but I want you to know that I don’t regret that it happened. Not for a second.”

  He had to be lying. Nothing so good ever happened in real life. Oli blinked away a few more tears, then turned his hand around so he was palm to palm with Marshall. “If it doesn’t happen, then what? Are you going to be upset that I jumped the gun?”

  “No.”

  “But you... want... whatever is inside of me?” Oli swallowed. He couldn’t bring himself to admit that one day that thing would be a baby. “You want me to keep it?”

  “Yes.”

  Oli closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, Marshall was smiling at him. Actually smiling, like there was something to celebrate—like his soul hadn’t only been polished, but it had been toted out as something to be admired and adored. Oli didn’t think he’d ever seen Marshall like that... not that he had much to go off of.

  “Then... in a few weeks, when I know for sure,” Oli said, trying to weigh each of his words so he didn’t sound biased one way or another, “you want me to tell you if it’s for real?”

  “Yes.”

  “And if it’s for real, then... you want to do this thing?”

  “Yes.”

  Oli laughed dryly. He kept his gaze locked on Marshall’s hand, unable to meet his eyes any longer. The hope in them was too much—like he was excited they’d probably gotten accidentally pregnant. He was either crazy or way too trusting. Oli wasn’t sure they weren’t one and the same. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

  “Life sends you signs in the strangest ways, doesn’t it?” Marshall’s voice was low and smooth, music without melody. Oli glanced up at him to find his face softened with tender affection. He was happy.

  “Now, aren’t you upset you didn’t get whatever you had to say out of the way first?” Oli grinned, trying the best he could to lighten the mood. Marshall didn’t need the reassurance, but Oli sure as hell did. “Told you that I was going to overshadow whatever you wanted to say.”

  “You did. Completely. In fact, you blew it so far out of the water that it’s not even important anymore. What’s important is that we focus on you... and on the baby. How soon are your benefits going to kick in once you start work?”

  “I think in six months?” Oli pushed his lips to the side, trying to remember. “It’s something like that. But when do parents expecting babies typically take maternity leave? Am I even going to be there long enough to qualify?”

  “It’s not going to matter, because I’m going to put you on private insurance.” Marshall already had his phone out, and his thumb worked its way across the screen. “No matter if your benefits kick in with your new job, you’ll be covered.”

  “That’s hundreds of dollars a month on top of whatever you’re paying for my phone.” Oli squirmed. “Marshall...”

  Marshall looked up from his phone. “This isn’t an offer.”

  “What, you’re going to bully me into being healthy now?” Oli made a face. “I don’t even get to push your buttons about it?”

  “Guess I’m learning how to give your bullshit back to you.” Marshall arched a brow, then looked back down at his phone. “The other option, if you don’t want me to enroll you onto a plan of your own, is to marry me. That way, you’ll be covered under my plan.”

  Oli wanted to snort with laughter, but the hitched, flighty noise in the back of his throat sounded more choked than anything else. His cheeks burned up, and he stared Marshall down even as Marshall typed away. “Marry you?”

  “A simple civil ceremony at the courthouse would do it.”

  “Marshall. Earth to Marshall? You’re asking me to marry you.” Oli wanted to joke about it, but his mind was somersaulting over the nonchalant proposal. What would it be like to settle down with a man like Marshall? To have a husband to come home to after a long day at work? To have a little miniature version of himself who loved him unconditionally, and who Oli would love back. No more worrying about rent, groceries, or the utility bills. No more worrying about anything at all—except for how quickly he could get through traffic after work so he could reunite with the man who’d made him sleep with his phone to his chest like it was a security blanket, and the family that man wanted to start with him. “That’s not really something most people take too lightly.”

  Marshall glanced up from his phone, then set it down. He looked Oli directly in the eyes. No amount of preparation could have readied Oli for the thrill that ran down his spine. Marshall was looking at him with that polished silver soul shining through in his eyes, only this time, he was looking at Oli like he was the one who deserved to be trotted out and cherished. “I’m not taking it lightly. I don’t offer anything I’m not willing to give.”

  “You’d marry me on the chance I might be pregnant with your child?” Oli struggled to comprehend it. “We don’t even know for sure if it’s actually a real thing, or if it’s just because I’m stressed as hell and my hormones are wonky. It might not even be a thing we have to worry about.”

  He fought it because on a rational level, he knew that he had to. Sure, they’d talked online for months before meeting, and sure, when he was with Marshall he felt like anything was within his reach, and that he wasn’t last night’s putrid leftovers in the garbage can that was the world, but getting married was a big step. A big, scary step—like knowing the stairs were rotted, and that his leg might go plummeting through the next board he trusted with his full weight.

  He didn’t want that board to be their relationship. He didn’t want Marshall to break.

  He loved him too goddamn much to see him suffer.

  “I’m not offering to marry you on the chance of anything,” Marshall said. The silver kept shining through. “I’m offering to marry you because you’re the only one in my life who’s ever made me excited to keep going—because you’re the beacon through the darkness, and the laughter diffusing every tragedy. I’m offering to marry you for terribly selfish reasons, Oliver—for the same reasons that I bought you that phone, and why, no matter your decision, I’ll make sure that you have proper health insurance. I want to keep you. I want to keep you warm, and safe, and happy. I’ve never said that to anyone else, and I will never say it again. That’s why I’m offering. The baby has simply expedited the process.”

  “I want to keep you, too.” Oli
could only whisper. His tongue was tied in knots, and his throat was squeezed shut. Tears he tried to blink away fell freely down his cheeks, unwilling to be held back. If what Marshall was saying was true, then…

  But the moment hit a snag. The silver bronzed, bringing with it regret Oli couldn’t understand. “I’m working on making sure you can keep me. I promise. You just need to give me time.”

  There was a piece of the puzzle missing, but Oli didn’t need it to see the full picture. He could already picture himself cuddled up in bed with Marshall, clinging to his warm body instead of the phone they chatted through. There would be lazy Sundays spent watching bad movies and eating pizza while Oli cracked jokes and Marshall did his best to act like they weren’t making him laugh. And most importantly, through it all, they’d raise a tiny family.

  Love forever.

  That was all Oli needed to see.

  “Then make sure it happens soon,” Oli whispered. “Whenever that is, we’ll return to this conversation. Okay?”

  “Okay.” Marshall hesitated. “But Oli?”

  “Yes?”

  Marshall lifted an eyebrow and shot him a sardonic look. “I want you to know that there may be a cliffhanger of a season finale in there somewhere.”

  Oli laughed so hard, he had to clamp a hand over his mouth. “You bastard!”

  Somehow, Marshall always managed to make it right.

  18

  Marshall

  The phone call that night was brief, but it was necessary. Marshall sat on the couch, the cannula feeding oxygen directly to his nose as the oxygen compressor hummed in the background. An empty container of carefully portioned veggies and skinless chicken thigh sat empty on the coffee table in front of him, the handle of a fork resting on a diagonal over its edge.

  The call connected. “Hello?”

  “Hello, Dr. Miller.” Marshall stretched an arm comfortably over the back of the couch. He closed his eyes and smiled. “This is Marshall Alcrest. I’ve changed my mind. I need you to put me on the transplant list. I’m ready to breathe again.”

  19

  Oli

  The interior of Synecta looked different now. Bigger. Like somehow its hallways had expanded between the time Oli had been in for his interview and the day he’d been asked to come in for orientation. He crossed the expansive lobby, giving the monolith of a fountain in the center a wide berth. Important-looking men in suits came and went, faces drawn. Everyone here looked so serious and professional. How was he ever supposed to fit in?

  Oli ducked to the left and followed the hall to the HR department. Foot traffic was much lighter here, and he was able to find time to talk himself down from his nerves. He’d been thoroughly interviewed, after all, and Susan had made her decision quickly. If she’d thought he wouldn’t be a good fit for their corporate climate, she would have turned him away. Negative thoughts continued to whisper destructive things in his head, but Oli pushed them away and focused on himself. Why was it his concern if he fit in or not? He wasn’t going to pretend to be anyone else. All he had to do was breathe. Things would work out fine.

  He knocked politely on the door frame leading to the reception area of the HR department even though the door was open. Susan wasn’t there this time—a young man Oli didn’t recognize sat at the reception desk instead.

  “Hello,” Oli said. He offered the man at the desk a smile. “I was told to report here for orientation. My name is Oliver McKellar, and I’m the newest member of the marketing department.”

  “Oh, the Avalon push, right?” The man swiveled back from his desk and stood. He was tall, Oli noticed, standing almost at six feet. But when he stepped out from behind his desk and shook Oli’s hand, Oli couldn’t help but notice that he was an omega. The subtle scent of his genetic variance clung to his skin, even though a tasteful application of cologne masked most of it. “Good to have you on board.”

  “Thank you.” Oli smiled.

  “I’ll give you a quick tour of the building before I see you off to your new team. If you have questions, don’t hesitate to ask. Once we part ways, if you ever get lost, senior staff members will be more than happy to help you find your way around. At first, it can be confusing. Synecta isn’t exactly a small place.”

  Oli nodded. He followed the man as he made his way to the door, not sure if it would be impolite to ask for his name. He didn’t have to wonder for long.

  “Oh, I’m David, by the way.” The omega stopped just short of the doorway and offered Oli an apologetic grin. “Sorry. That was rude of me.”

  “Not rude at all. I probably would have forgotten to introduce myself if I wasn’t the newbie around here.” The look on David’s face was pleasant, and Oli got the feeling that he wasn’t such a bad guy. HR got a terrible rep, but maybe Synecta was different. David certainly seemed friendly enough, and Oli couldn’t exactly badmouth the business that was giving him his first chance at proving himself. He’d applied here on a whim—Synecta was a big name in the pharmaceutical industry, and he wasn’t expecting to land the job, much less land it as quickly as he had.

  But even if it was terrible, it wasn’t like he had much of a choice but to ride it out. He kind-of-sort-of-absolutely needed the money.

  “You’d think that I’d be used to introducing myself by now.” David chuckled as he led Oli through the door and down the hall. They headed for the elevators in the lobby. “With so many new staff members brought on by the approval of the recent marketing push, and with the change in the upper echelon coming up, we’ve been seeing an influx of new faces.”

  “There are changes in upper management happening?”

  They came to a stop in front of the middle-most elevator of five. David pressed the button to hail the cabin, and they waited for the doors to open.

  “Oh, well, nothing is official yet, but all of us know it’s coming down the pipeline.” David spoke about the change in an upbeat way, and Oli wasn’t sure if it was because he was sure his job wasn’t in jeopardy, or if it really wasn’t that big of a deal for Synecta employees. He hoped it was the latter. Marshall was taking care of him, but he dreaded the thought of losing his job so soon after starting. “The CEO is sick. Terminally ill, or so says the rumor mill. All the details are vague and he does his best to keep a stiff upper lip, but we think he only has a few years left to live. He collapsed during a board meeting earlier this week and spent a few days in the hospital, and now that he’s back, he’s got an oxygen tank and tubes in his nose all day. We’re all waiting for him to officially announce he’s stepping down, but so far, nothing.” David made a face. “I think approving this marketing initiative will be the last big change he makes to the company. Things have certainly slowed down since he started getting sick.”

  “Oh.” Oli frowned. “That’s really sad. Is it cancer?”

  “No. At least, I don’t think so. It’s something to do with his lungs. He’s in shape, but he’s always out of breath. It’s been getting more and more noticeable as the months go on. The decline has been alarmingly rapid.”

  Oli glanced at David from the corner of his eye, wondering if their little gossip session was a test to see if he was the team player he’d made himself out to be during his interview. Talking about the higher-ups behind their backs was not a good way to start a job. Oli could only imagine the elevator doors opening to reveal every executive in the building while David droned on and on about the CEO’s alleged terminal disease, oblivious to who was now listening.

  Sitcom gold right there. Oli could almost hear the laugh track in his head.

  But the elevator doors didn’t open to reveal a pack of executive officers—they opened to reveal Marshall. And as shiny, polished chrome revealed him in full, Oli’s whole world stopped.

  It wasn’t that Marshall was immaculately dressed—that was a given. Every suit he wore, every shirt he owned, and every pair of pants in his possession was fitted to his body, and he didn’t own a single outfit that made him look less than flawless. The dark g
ray wool jacket he wore paired with his flawlessly pressed pants, and his black leather shoes shone like he’d just had them cleaned. It wasn’t the briefcase in his hand—that didn’t surprise Oli in the least—or the fact that until he’d met Oli’s eyes, his expression had been tight and stony.

  No.

  Oli’s world had come to a stop because of the black bag sitting at Marshall’s hip, strapped over his proud shoulder, and the clear tubing that ran from it until it branched off beneath Marshall’s chin, looped around either side of his jaw, and hooked over his ears so that it could feed directly into his nostrils.

  “Oliver,” Marshall uttered, eyes widened with shock.

  Oli couldn’t speak. All he could do was stare at Marshall as he tried his hardest to explain away what he was seeing—it was the only way he could hold together the pieces of his fractured heart.

  “Hello, Mr. Alcrest,” David said with a bow of his head. “I take it you’ve already met the new hire? That’s fantastic. I’m sure the new team is thrilled that you’re taking such a vested interest in their progress.”

  David needed to shut up. His upbeat, unnecessary chatter was distracting, and while Oli was all too cognizant that he was often the one who’d ramble on without pause, he couldn’t bring himself to own up to his hypocrisy. Right now, what he needed was an explanation, because the Marshall standing in front of him couldn’t be the same Marshall he knew.

  Not even when David called him Mr. Alcrest.

  Not even when he’d known Oli’s name.

  Not even when he fixed Oli with the same crystalline blue eyes that Oli had been dreaming about since their first night together at The Shepherd.

  But it made sense, didn’t it? The shortness of breath. The coughing. The fact that Marshall had disappeared without a trace earlier that week, then come back into Oli’s life like nothing was wrong.