Chapter One

I seldom shared what happened to me. Even after counselling, it was all just too raw. There had been something strangely cathartic in baring all to my boss’s girlfriend that night. Maybe it was because the terror had been so fresh after my panic attack, or maybe it was just that she never once made me feel judged. She didn’t flinch away when I explained it. She didn’t get jealous that I called my friend and employer—her boyfriend—Alex about it. She just listened. For the first time since I had explained everything to Alex, about three months after I had started working for him, I felt a little bit closer to being whole again.

Looking back, the first moment that I saw Oliver Watson will be forever engrained into my memory. I can remember every vivid detail of the first time I saw him. I was in the college canteen with my friends when he walked past. He was a little older; he had dark hair, dark eyes, and a trendy crop of facial hair. He wasn’t that much taller than me. While he wasn’t stunningly beautiful in the conventional way, there was just something about him that called out to me. Something that drew me to him like a moth to a flame. He was charming, he had a cheeky smile, and I just couldn’t help myself.

He had smiled at me across the canteen for a week or two. He’d said the occasional, ‘hello,’ as he went past, but after about a month, he finally approached me.

“Hi.” A grin spread across his face as he stood beside my seat.

“Hi,” I replied, feeling the blush of excitement creep over my face.

“I think you’re gorgeous. Do you mind if I sit at your table?” He smirked, cockily confident.

I stared at him in disbelief, my cheeks feeling like they were on fire. “Umm...” I swallowed, trying to collect my thoughts. “Sure.”

He held out his hand towards me. “I’m Ollie, by the way. Ollie Watson.” The warmth of his smile made my cheeks burn.

“Josh Shaw.” I couldn’t help but smile back.

Ollie and I spent the next forty-five minutes talking about our courses and general polite getting-to-know-you chitchat. Eventually, he looked at his watch and announced that it was time for him to head off to another class.

“Meet you here tomorrow for lunch?” He grinned at me as he stood to leave.

“Same time?” I asked.

“It’s a date!” He winked, rushed off towards the door, and disappeared into the corridor.

Lunchtime the next day couldn’t come fast enough. I was so excited that someone like Ollie was interested in me. I had been a shy and awkward teen until I had found my feet after I left secondary school and enrolled in the local college. At seventeen, I was finally finding my way in the world.

I had been an unwanted child. I was taken into care at the age of three. I don’t remember much of my birth mother other than what I read in the social workers’ reports. I’m not sure I have any real interest in knowing anything about her. My earliest memory is of sitting in the back of a social worker’s car, scared and alone, clinging to my teddy bear. I couldn’t have been more than four. I was placed seven times before I was eleven and ended up in Alice’s home.

Alice Jerome was in her fifties when I arrived on her doorstep, a frightened and meek little boy. Skinny, with straggly long blonde hair and mismatched, ill-fitting clothes. Alice welcomed me into her home, clothed me, fed me, but more than that, she allowed me to flourish. When I ran into problems in secondary school, she helped me to find my path elsewhere. She helped me research college courses and get myself enrolled in the business management course that I was on. Alice was a fantastic foster parent.

So there I sat, waiting for Ollie to appear. A few minutes later, I was aware of eyes on me, and when I looked up, there he was, purposefully striding towards me before taking a seat beside me.

"He’s beautiful, and therefore to be wooed," he said as he lifted my hand and pressed his lips against my knuckles. "He is man, and therefore to be won." He smiled.

I felt the blush creep over my cheeks, and I couldn’t help but smile at him. We chatted, talking about our courses, our friends, and our families. I admitted to him that I lived with my foster mum and what had happened in my life around that. He was sweet and understanding. He was so generous, spending so much time with me.

Over the next few weeks, we had lunch dates together often. I enjoyed being around Ollie. He was polite, he was gentle, and he was courteous. He always had a quote from some piece of literature to try to woo me with. It wasn’t long before he asked me if I wanted to go out for a proper date. An evening trip to the cinema to see Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End was arranged. It had been out for a few weeks by the time mid-June arrived. Who could resist going to look at Johnny Depp for two hours as Captain Jack? I loved every minute of that first date. Ollie took me out for food after the film and even came with me on the bus and walked me to my door.

He took my hand when we got off the bus. He didn’t let go, not even when we reached my front door, and I turned to say goodnight.

“Thanks for walking me home.” I smiled at him.

He bowed in a grand, sweeping gesture and stooped, lifting my hand to his lips. “The pleasure is all mine, M’Lord.” He grinned up at me, his lips grazing across my knuckles as he looked up at me. There was an element of desire in his eyes, and I felt the excitement in my stomach at the thought of a man looking at me in such a way. He wanted me. I couldn’t help but feel pulled in by it, wanting to do something about it, but being seventeen and inexperienced, not really knowing where to start.

He continued to look at me like that as he straightened up and pulled me in against him. I looked into his dark pools of black and felt a sudden rush of warmth over my face when I realised he was moving in for a kiss. His lips touched mine, and the electricity that passed between us sizzled intensely. His hand left mine and circled my waist, drawing me closer, his other hand resting in my hair, holding me captive to his kiss. His tongue swept across my lips, and I was powerless to resist. Overwhelmed by hormonal teenage lust, I parted my lips and let his tongue massage mine. My arms went around his neck, and I held on as my knees weakened. I let Ollie’s wicked tongue tease and tempt me.

When his lips parted from mine, my eyes wouldn’t open. Instead, I stood there for a moment, wrapped up in the euphoric little bubble that surrounded the momentous occasion of my first kiss.

“Open your eyes, sunshine,” he told me, and I could hear the smile in his voice.

My eyelids fluttered open at his words. I looked at him, looking like the cat that got the cream. “Thank you for a lovely evening, and an even more lovely kiss goodnight.” He smiled, kissed my forehead, and turned to leave.

“Can I see you again, Ollie?” I called out after him as he closed the gate at the bottom of the garden path.

“You can count on it, sunshine!” He grinned, blew me a kiss, and walked off down the street towards the bus stop.

I turned and walked the few steps to the door, turned my key, and floated up to my bedroom on a cloud.

I had met a man, I had been out on a date, and I had had my first kiss. Life finally seemed like it was going to start heading in the right direction for me, and I couldn’t have been happier about it.