His eyes locked on her mouth when her turned her back around to face him again, stolen there so that he could witness for himself what the passion of their shared kiss had done. His hand gripped her shoulder, squeezing, as he struggled not to drag her close again so that he could make her forget the doubts that he battled inside her own mind likes demons threatening to surface. His eyes were dark inside their sockets, darting back and forth, before finally raising up to meet her own stare. For a long moment, all he could hear was the frantic beating of his own heart in his head. Pulling in a breath, he released her, arm dropping down to his side where his fingers curled into a fist as an attempt to keep his paws to himself. But that didn’t stop the throb in his groin where his erection stood out against the front of his jeans, unabashed and without the same remorse that coursed through the rest of him like napalm.<br/><br/><br/>He lifted his hand regardless once she didn’t immediately turn tail and run out the door, the backs of his knuckles grazing the lines of her cheek to her jaw tenderly. He stepped forward again, pulling another ragged breath that rattled through him in a shudder and slid his hand further, underneath the dark locks of hair to cradle the back of her skull. The guilt ridden look that shimmered in her eyes he mirrored back down at her with his own, but still that didn’t stop him from tugging her forward again. Not to kiss her though, even though his body was demanding another taste from her. Like before, he guided her head to his chest and tilted his head to press his kiss on the crown of her head. Nostrils flared, drinking in her scent, then with a low murmur in his throat, he released her again. This time it was him that was moving past her, edging his way to the door, but not to block her escape. He paused, though.<br/><br/><br/>“This isn’t nothing, Genevieve,” he started. He even used her full name. “And it probably won’t be nothing. It’s not good; it might even be stupid, a mistake, but it’s not nothing. I think you know that too even though you don’t want to admit it right now.”<br/><br/><br/>Wasn’t there a line in the Bible that said something like thou shalt not covet another man’s woman? The angel on one shoulder nagged him that what he was feeling now was all wrong, while the devil on the other kept whispering that his best friend was dead. Nathan is dead. That right there shook him right to the bone and out of the heat of the moment. And Gen was right. He shifted away so that she could pass now, his face at war with the emotions that were laid bare on his sleeve. So as she disappeared out the door, he let his expression slipped from its war path and cringed instead, eyes falling shut as he reached down to adjust the problem that had sprung from the intimacy they had just shared. He could still feel the way she tasted on his tongue, feel her warmth, the lush softness of her curves, her intoxicating scent that belonged just to her. It brought longing again to his crotch, stiffening him even though he tucked himself behind the elastic of his boxers to hold himself in place and to hide how obvious it was.<br/><br/><br/>He would give her the space she needed and made his own way to his bathroom, doing a space walk down the hall with his head shaking back and forth as he tried to clear it. Once he had stepped into the darkness of the room, a small half bath meant for guests, he flipped on the lights and squinted at himself in the mirror as he leaned forward to grapple with the edge of the sink. Under the harsh light, he looked haggard, like he had aged more in the last four weeks than he had in the last four years. An ironic grin crept across his face as he tried to remember the him from four weeks ago and wound up shaking his head instead.<br/><br/><br/>Pushing himself up, he reached forward and turned the faucet. Cupping his hands together, he splashed cold water on his face and spiked his fingers with wet through his hair so that it stood on end. Once he had turned the faucet off and turned away, he flicked the light back off and headed toward the door to meet the reality of his situation: Genevieve Macias was not ever going to be his. Nathan’s ghost would haunt him beyond his own grave if Oliver even dared try. He needed to focus on being there for the both of them, not as a man, but as a friend instead.<br/><br/><br/>Though his thoughts were cut short at the sound of the knock on his door. He glanced down at his wrist before he realized he wasn’t wearing his watch and instead scoped out the clock in the kitchen as he passed by on his way toward his front door. The red light blinked just past four. That by itself surprised him; he hadn’t realized that much time had gone by since they had gotten to his place after Gen’s unexpected incident from the morning. With a scowl engraved on his face, Oliver reached his door and flung it open to meet who he assumed was her friend, Mac.