Beautiful Oblivion Read Online Free PDF

or intimidated, just comfortable enough to latch onto him.
    “Hi, Olive,” I said. “How old are you?” Wasn’t that a normal question to ask a kid? I wasn’t sure.
    “I’m fife,” she said with confidence. Her gritty, sweet voice was probably the most adorable sound I’d ever heard. She held up her hand, her tiny but plump fingers spreading out as far as they could, her palm facing out. When she was sure I understood, the hand went back to Trenton’s jeans. “Twent said he would take me to Chicken Joe’s, but we can’t go until yow weddy.” She blinked, but didn’t smile. She was serious, and she was seriously holding me accountable for every second longer she had to wait.
    I glared at him. “Oh, did he?”
    Trenton simply shrugged and smiled. “Are you ready?”
    I looked down at my sweats. “Clearly not, but I’m guessing I shouldn’t keep Olive waiting.”
    “No. You shouldn’t,” Trenton said. He didn’t even pretend to feel ashamed. Bastard.
    Trying not to growl, swear, or do anything else that might scare Olive, I retreated to my bedroom. I replaced my hoodie with a rust-colored thermal Henley, and the sweatpants with a pair of well-worn jeans. While I slipped on my boots, Raegan opened the door to my room, and closed it behind her.
    “Olive wants me to ask you to please hurry,” she said, trying not to smile.
    “Shut your face,” I said, standing up. I dusted some makeup on, combed my lashes with the mascara wand, dabbed my lips with clear gloss, and walked out to the living room, where Trenton and Olive still stood. “All ready,” I said with a smile. For Olive. Definitely no smiles for Trenton.
    Olive looked up to Trenton. “Can we go to Chicken Joe’s now?”
    “Let’s put on your coat, first.”
    Olive complied, and then wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Now?”
    “Yes, ma’am,” he said, opening the door.
    Olive’s smile spanned the width of her face when the door opened, and Trenton’s expression brightened, clearly pleased that he’d made her happy.
    I passed him without speaking, and as I walked out to the parking lot, Olive’s little fingers found their way to my hand. Her skin was just as warm and soft as it looked.
    Trenton unlocked the passenger door of his dilapidated Dodge Intrepid. The red paint was faded in some spots, and gone in others.
    Trenton pulled the seat forward, helping Olive into the back. He strapped her into her pink car seat.
    I leaned my head in and took a whiff. “You don’t smoke in your car?”
    “I do, but I clean out my car the night before I have Olive, and I don’t smoke in it until after I drop her off for the day. It doesn’t smell.” He returned the passenger seat to its original position, and held out his hand, gesturing for me to get in.
    “I am so going to get you back for this,” I whispered as I passed him to sit down.
    He smiled. “I look forward to it.” Trenton shut the door, and then jogged around the front of the car and hopped into the driver’s seat. He pulled the seat belt across his chest and clicked it into the latch, and then looked at me expectantly.
    “Click it or ticket,” Olive said from the backseat.
    “Oh,” I said, turning to grab the seat belt and repeating what Trenton had just completed. When the buckle clicked, Trenton started the car.
    We rode in near silence across town to Chicken Joe’s, except for the occasional requests for updates from Olive. At almost every stoplight, she wanted to know how many blocks were between us and our destination. Trenton answered her patiently, and when we were one block away, they both did a little celebration, dancing with their hands.
    When Trenton pulled into a parking spot at Chicken Joe’s, he turned off the engine, got out, jogged to my side, and then opened the door. He helped me climb out with one hand, and then pushed the seat forward, unbuckled Olive, and set her on the ground.
    “Did you bwing coins?” she asked.
    Trenton laughed once,