CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

DALLAS


I walked into the living room, a large bowl of freshly popped popcorn cradled in my arm. I set the bowl on the couch and a box of Kleenex tissues next to it. I went into the kitchen and came back with two glasses of orange juice. I grabbed the control panel and checked for options on the TV.

Oliver walked down the stairs in a T-shirt and pants. It was the first time I'm seeing him in a T-shirt. I gulped hard as I saw his broad shoulders stretching out of his fitted shirt. My gaze lingered, drinking in the sight of his chiseled physique.

“For the record, I don't agree to the genre you picked.” He said, his deep voice snapping me out of my reverie.

I blinked, trying to recollect my thoughts.

“I asked before picking it and you said yes.”

I tore my gaze away from him and focused on the TV. He sat next to me on the couch, his arm brushing against mine as he rested it at the back of the sofa. The accidental touch sent sparks of electricity down my spine.

I cleared my throat to distract myself from the thoughts I was having.

“So we have Titanic, The notebook, and A walk to remember, which one should we watch first?”

“I've never seen any of them. We can watch whichever one you want.” He shrugged. His brows furrowed as he saw the box of tissues beside me.

“What's with the tissues? We're watching a movie, not going to a funeral.”

“You’ll understand the use soon enough.” I smiled.

“Let's start with Titanic.”

He gave me a simple nod, his expression was unreadable.

“I don't have anything against the film, but I'm not a fan of melodrama.” he said.

“It's not melodrama, it's romantic.”

“Doesn't the male lead die at the end of the movie?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Way to spoil it.” I grumbled, stuffing a handful of popcorn in my mouth.

He shot me a knowing glare.
“You've already watched it.”

“Almost everyone living on planet earth has watched Titanic at least twice. You've never watched it?”

“I don't need to watch it before I know what happens. People wouldn't shut up about it when it first came out.” He scoffed.

“Shh, movie is starting.” I nudged him slightly with my elbow.

While the opening credit played, I scooted closer to him on the couch, placing the bowl of popcorn on my laps. I couldn't resist his magnetic body pull.

“Popcorn?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

He shot me a glare as if saying ‘seriously’. I blinked my eyes and feigned ignorance. He tore his gaze away from me and sighed.

“No.”

“More for me then.” I shrugged before shoving another handful in my mouth. I focused my attention on the movie.

No matter how many times I watched Titanic, my heart breaks each time. Oliver, on the hand, kept a straight face through the entire movie. He didn't blink neither did he show any emotion throughout the movie. Not even when Jack drowned.

“The movie is so sad. How are you not crying?” I asked, dabbing my tears away after the end credits rolled in.

“It's fiction.” He said plainly.
“You said it's not your first time watching it. You already know what happened to the characters at the end of the movie. Why are you crying?”

“I just can't stop the tears.” I sniffed.
“Their love is so beautiful. The sacrifice Jack made for Rose was so sad, yet admirable. He loved his woman until the very end.”

“If he had being logical at that moment and not emotional, he'd probably figure out a way to save the both of them.” his voice was cold and detached.

“That’s not the point of the movie. It's about the power of love and sacrifice. It shows that love transcends even in death.” I argued.

“Love doesn't conquer. Money and power do.”

“You don't believe in love, do you?”

He shook his head.
“It's infuriating how people put so much meaning on love. Love is just an illusion. People use it to control each other.”

I stared at him, my lips slightly parted. But what answer was I expecting from a man who doesn't understand emotions.

“So you've never felt anything at all for anyone?” I asked

“I have felt anger, repulse, and hatred towards half of the world's population.”

“I was asking about positive emotions. Love. Compassion. Attraction. Have you ever felt like you would do anything for that one person?”

I knew I was asking for the impossible. The answer was pretty obvious. But somehow I couldn't stop myself. I wanted to know if he had ever been in love. I found myself holding my breath, waiting for his response. I didn't even know why I was doing that.

Our gazes locked and the silence between us became palpable. My pulse quickened and I suddenly became breathless. There was enough space between us, but it felt like he was invading my personal space. The scent of his musky cologne was the only thing I could breath.

He tore his gaze away from me, a smirk dancing on his lips.

“No.” he said.

I released a sigh. Somehow, the thought that he had never been in love pleased me more than it should have.

“Then you shouldn't talk about love like that unless you've experienced it.” I said, stuffing my mouth with popcorn.

I chewed hurriedly to distract the thoughts swirling in my mind. I placed the bowl on the coffee table and reached the control panel beside him. My hand accidentally grazed his thigh.

I yelped as he suddenly grabbed my arm and spun me around until I straddled one of his legs. My heart stopped and my throat dried up. His grip tighten on my wrist but not hard enough to hurt me.

Heat scorched my cheek as our gazes locked. I was grateful for the dim light in the living room or I would be so embarrassed by how flustered I was at the moment.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

I was amazed and slightly annoyed by how composed his voice was. I was in my pajamas and straddling him, but he didn't show any reaction. Granted, the pajamas were larger than my normal size. I didn't want to wear my normal pajamas so he doesn't get the wrong idea about the movie night.

But it wasn't like he could ever be attracted to me. I wasn't his type. Somehow, I found it slightly infuriating.

I cleared my throat.
“I was reaching for the remote.” I said innocently.

A heavy silence settled between us. The air grew intense and I became more breathless. Oliver kept his gaze on me as his hand trailed from my back to the nape of my neck. My core throbbed and I could feel my panties getting drenched. I was afraid I would come right on his leg. How could such a simple hand movement affect me so much?

“I can feel it dripping all over me.” He said plainly, his brows slightly furrowed.

I shut my eyes tight, the embarrassment threatening to swallow me whole. I wanted to dissapear at that moment and never show my face before him till the day I die. I couldn't look down, afraid I would see my wetness on his pants.

Oliver's chuckle resonated through the living room. I opened my eyes slowly to see him staring at me clearly amused by my reaction.

“You spilled juice on the table and it's dripping all over the place.”

I turned to see the juice had made a mess on the floor. I must have accidentally knocked the glass over when Oliver spun me around.

“What is going on in that mind of yours, little monkey?” he asked, a knowing smirk on his lips.

I jolted up from his leg.
“I'll go clean this up.”

The sound of his chuckles followed me as I dissapeared into the kitchen. I hoped I could disappear from this place as well.