by Jolie Day
A while later, I decided to call it a day. And what a day it had been at that. Getting back into some semblance of my normal routine did wonders for taking my mind off everything that was going on, but I was eager to get back home. Or rather…Oliver’s home.
The longer-than-usual commute (thanks, traffic!) between his place and my lab almost made up for how different it had been around the penthouse since I moved in. I mean, we’d been friends for years, but seeing him on a daily basis was strange, not in a bad way, excluding the triple T’s. As I stared out the backseat window of my cab ride home, I smiled, thinking about the other night.
The taxi rolled over a big bump, shaking away the fun memory, forcing me to clutch my phone and bag extra tight to keep them from flying into the floor. As my butt slammed back down to the seat, my phone dinged. A text from Oliver.
Oliver: Thanks for breakfast this morning. And the note, you goofball. A new bar is opening up down the street from my place. Want to grab some drinks with me tonight and check it out?
I let the phone flop to my lap in my hand, closing my eyes as I tried to recenter. Things felt better after accepting one of Oliver’s invites to hang out, but there was still a lingering reservation. So, I pretended not to see his message.
The cab came to a stand-still. Again. There was an accident up ahead, so all traffic had to be rerouted, which added forty-five minutes to my already-long ride. Well, it’d still been a good day. This just gave me more time to not think about Oliver. Or the kiss I’d planted on his cheek this morning. Or the fantasy that’d stayed with me all day. Nope. Not thinking about it.
8
Laney
Paying the cabbie, I stepped out of the taxi, and got on the elevator. The apartment seemed quiet and empty when I walked in, though there were a few lights on. It looked like Oliver had rushed out to that new bar. I sighed, thinking a night to myself with the TV was just what I needed.
I put up my purse and keys and turned for the liquor cabinet. I’d bought a bottle of red wine, which I was all too happy to pull out and uncork.
“Long day?” A man’s voice suddenly cut through the room.
I nearly jumped out of my skin just as I was filling up my glass. The stream of red wine wavered just long enough to splatter down the front of my new dress. “Dammit! Why are you sneaking up on me like that, Oliver? I thought you’d left.”
“Oh, shit.”
“I love this thing. Now look at it…”
“I’m sorry!” He walked over, tugging at the front of my dress to see the glaring deep-red stain for himself. “I thought I was being funny-dramatic…not like, scary-dramatic.”
“You scared me, all right,” I huffed, still scowling at my dress.
“Take it off,” he said.
I cut my eyes up to his, thinking he couldn’t be serious. But he seemed entirely too serious as he nodded his head, repeating himself, “Go on. Take it off. I can get that out for you.”
My heart was pounding as I thought of those words directed at me, coming from his mouth—yeah, they’d be haunting me for days. I felt red-hot heat rising in my cheeks and let out a nervous laugh. “I’m not going to take my dress off in front of you right here in the middle of the kitchen. You’re crazy. Let me change real quick, and then I’ll give it to you. You have a secret stain remover or something?”
“I didn’t mean here in front of me.” He chuckled.
Oh, my gosh. Of course not! I was so silly; words were just falling out of my mouth. Yup, nerves. And my brain. It short-circuited. Well, now would be a good time for my brain to get back to normal mode.
“But you’re more than welcome to take it off here,” he said. “I’ll even turn around. As a matter of fact, I’ve seen you in a bathing suit before. It’s no big deal.”
“That’s different.” I retreated into my bedroom, grumbling to myself, wishing he would stop making things worse like always. If only he could have said it for a reason other than feeling bad about causing me to mess up my new favorite dress. I popped back out a minute later, wearing a baggy shirt and shorts with the ruined dress in hand.
“How’s it different?” He stared at me expectantly.
Of course, he couldn’t just let it go.
“Here.” I handed him the dress. I wasn’t about to go into the fact that undressing in front of him was what made it different. I didn’t need another reminder that he was so indifferent to my half-naked body. “Maybe I wasn’t wearing any underwear.” Honestly, I surprised even myself with my reply.
A smile tugged at his lips. “Oh, is that so? I guess I’ll never find out.” He grabbed my dress and picked up a bottle of dishwashing liquid in his other hand. “Could you grab the hydrogen peroxide from under the bathroom sink, please?”
A few minutes later, he’d mixed up some sort of concoction and was blotting it against the stain. “There. Now we just let it sit for about an hour. Your stain will be long gone after we wash it.”
“Thanks.” I smiled lightly. “I didn’t realize you were such a laundry expert.”
“My granny taught me,” he said with a shrug.
I tried to shake off the swell in my heart that came with the mental image of sweet little boy Ollie bonding with his grandma over laundry. It was too much to take. Like puppies or kittens sending me into cuteness overload.
“What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you were checking out that bar you texted me about.”
“So, you did see it?” He smirked, like he’d just caught me in a lie.
“Yeah, so?” I shrugged. “I never said I didn’t see it. I was just on my way home and didn’t feel like going out, so I…didn’t respond because I couldn’t come up with a good excuse. Why didn’t you go ahead without me?”
“Because I wanted to go with you,” he shot back, the smirk gone from his face.
Oh.
“With me?” I could feel the familiar heat rising to my cheeks. “Why?”
He flashed an incredulous smile and poured himself a glass from my bottle of wine. Then he sat down on the stool across from me, and his eyes bore into mine. “Laney. We need to talk.”
Oh, shit. My throat tightened, making it hard to swallow. My heart was pounding even harder than before. I threw back a gulp of my wine. “About…what?”
“Sit down,” he commanded me.
I’d rarely ever heard Oliver be so stern, and he had definitely never talked to me like that. No wonder he had women falling over him left and right, doing whatever he told them to do. His regular voice was sexy enough—but bossy, pissed, dominant Oliver was impossible to refuse.
I plopped down on the other stool without giving it a second thought. “Oliver, you’re scaring me.”
“You’re the one scaring me,” he argued. “What’s going on with you? I mean, I know you’ve always blown off most of my invitations to go out. But it’s been even worse since you moved in here with me. I feel like I see you less now than I did before you started staying here.”
I had to bite my lip to hide the trembling. I always did hate keeping secrets, and I hated getting caught or getting in trouble. I tried to think of some joke I could make to blow the whole thing over, but I could tell by the serious expression on Oliver’s face that he was nowhere near a joking mood.
“I just went out with you last night!”
“So? What about all the other nights I’ve asked you to hang out with me here?” he snapped back.
I shook my head, avoiding his gaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t been avoiding you, if that’s what you’re implying.”
“Okay, good.” He sighed.
I looked back into his eyes.
“So, what are you doing right now?” he asked, his voice calm. “You just opened a bottle of wine…and you don’t want to go out?”
“No, I prefer staying home.”
“Okay, so let’s hang. We can watch a movie.”
Dammit. I thought I was going to get a relaxing night in without him lo
oming over my shoulder, making my entire body pulse with that feeling only he could incite in me.
“Oliver, I’m tired.” I made yet another excuse, but honestly, I was tired. “It’s been a long day. It was my first day back at work. I just want to go to my room and—”
“See. I knew it.” He drummed his fingertips on the countertop. “You wouldn’t be going to hide off in your room if I was out like you thought I was. Laney, tell me what’s going on. I know you, and I can tell when something’s off with you. You’ve been acting weird. I’m sorry it took me a minute to remember not to go roaming around the house half-naked, but—”
“You’re not the only one roaming around half-naked,” I mumbled resentfully, remembering a few nights ago when I made the mistake of going to the kitchen for a glass of water in the middle of the night. “I saw your girl from Saturday night sauntering to the liquor cabinet in nothing but your dress shirt…unbuttoned, might I add.”
Oliver smirked at first, like he was proud of that one. But when he saw how pissed I was, he quickly wiped the grin off his face. “Okay, fair enough. I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable and put you in that position.”
“She made me uncomfortable,” I corrected him. “Mostly because her boobs were hanging out, and she didn’t even bother saying a word to me.” Mostly because I’m in love with you and hate her and every other woman you bring around here.
“I won’t let that happen again,” he said earnestly. “From now on, I’ll be much more discreet about the women I bring over. I’ll make the whole kitchen and living room a strictly nude-free zone. No clothes, no service. The end.”
My shoulders slumped. I wished that fixed everything. I wished it would make all of my feelings for him and the awkwardness of the entire damn situation just disappear. But I still had the sick feeling in my gut that came along with all of my feelings for Oliver.
“I just miss hanging out with you. Just the two of us. Like we used to.” The sincerity in his voice melted me inside. His big brown eyes burrowed into me, tugging at all my heartstrings. “I want us to do something fun together. What about the other day? I thought it’d be a blast for us to take that quick ride on my bike together, but you took off running from me!”
“I’m just clumsy! I don’t know how to do all the crazy things you do,” I defended, grasping at straws. I knew damn well I was no clumsier than he was. I felt uncomfortable in my body whenever he was around. Because he was perfect. And I was not—at least to what I believed were his standards. I had to say something to keep from blurting out that I just didn’t know how not to be in freaking love with him anymore.
“So let me teach you.”
I buried my face in my hands, groaning, “Ugh, Oliver… No. That’s not going to work. Why do you have to be so pushy?”
“Because we’re friends. And that’s what friends do. They hang out. They have a good time together. You helped me with my research papers last week! And with other stuff all the years we’ve been friends. So, you can help me, but I can’t help you? Come on, Laney… Unless there’s another reason you’re avoiding me. Please, tell me now.”
Everything in me seized up as I tried not to scream and cry into my hands. “No,” I shouted. “No other reason.”
“Okay, have it your way.” He moved to get up.
“Fine! You win! Geez, you’re such a stubborn jackass. Okay—what do you want to do? Whatever it is—skydiving, motorcycles, bungee jumping… You name it, I’ll do it. There. You happy now?”
Any one of those possibilities seemed infinitely less terrifying than telling Oliver how I really felt.
He smiled wide and responded with his usual cocky air he had every time he won something. “Yes. It does make me happy. Tomorrow. You’re free?”
I racked my brain for any last-minute excuse that might save me, but even if I could think of something, I’d only end up right back in this same stand-off with him next week. “Sure.” I sighed. “Tomorrow, I’m free.”
“All day.” He arched a brow. “Tomorrow…all day long…you’re mine.” Looking awfully pleased with himself, he tapped his fist on the counter in front of me.
“Last chance. You wanna watch TV with me tonight?”
I shook my head, and Oliver turned to grab his keys and wallet. “I’m going out for a bit, but I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow. No bailing on me this time!”
I already had my back turned to him, planning to escape to my room until he left. But the next thing I knew, I felt his body hovering behind me. I whipped around just in time to get caught in his embrace. He enveloped me in the kind of long, friendly hug he loved to give, the kind that always destroyed me on the inside. I wrapped my arms around his massive shoulders, and the mere thought of caressing his muscular back, his perfect ass, made my entire body tingle with need and lust and want, and all the things I only wanted from Oliver. Having him this close, his hard body pressed to mine, I could imagine what he’d feel like if he were actually mine.
“Trust me. You’ll be fine, okay? I won’t make you do anything you’ll hate,” he promised in a low, deep reassuring voice that vibrated through his firm, strong chest against my cheek.
“Mmm-hmm,” I squeaked, pulling away from him as fast as I could. Distance was the only thing that could protect me from the kinds of things that the deep, sexy hum did to my body.
The door shut behind him, leaving me to melt in a mini-freak-out. “Great, can’t wait,” I moaned sarcastically, while my thoughts raced with: What the hell was I thinking? I’m screwed.
I spun around and stared at our photo strip on the fridge. I hoped it’d be Coney Island all over again. That had been one of the absolute best days of my life.
God, I was such a clusterfuck of an emotional rollercoaster. On the one hand, I loved spending time with Oliver and couldn’t get enough of him. Yet, on the other, I felt as if I was digging myself deeper and deeper into misery. I mean, obviously, I couldn’t avoid him, because that would only result in ruining our friendship (and both of us being unhappy), and neither of us wanted that. Ignoring him only made him miserable, and it angered him, too.
I sighed.
Screw this shit, I thought.
Lisa was right.
I would do what I should’ve done all along: relax, spend time with him, and truly enjoy myself. I’d not worry about a damn thing any longer. Just like Coney Island.
I pulled my notebook and a pen from my purse (they were on top, thank the universe!) and plopped on my bed to jot down my new life plan. In a nutshell, at least. I could add more later.
1. I will relax and be my normal happy self.
2. I’ll forget all about wishing he’ll be my first. Hell, other Moms have handsome sons, too!
3. I’m done being a nutcase. D.O.N.E. Once and for all. Really. I mean it. New Elaine Carter, here I come!
4. I will not think about the letter.
5. Almost forgot. I will not drive myself crazy if I mess up numbers 1 through 4. Nobody’s perfect.
P.S. Motorcycle rides are excluded from this list. I’m not getting on that damn thing. Ever.
I read over my plan one more time to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything, and then got up to toss the notebook inside my purse. My bag was a bottomless pit—nobody would dare rummage through it. I’d melt and likely go into cardiac arrest if anybody ever did and found my plan.
With my wine bottle in hand, I smiled to myself, plan now set (and head now out of my ass!). Whatever he had in store for me the next day, it would be fun. Everything with Oliver was fun (As long as he didn’t try to get me on the back of his damn bike). He’d laugh and joke with me all day like his best bud. And you know what? I would have the time of my life. And so would he.
Tomorrow, he was all mine.
I crashed back on my bed, feeling giddy and nearly spilling the bottle all over me.
Then I remembered Lisa’s words and laughed out loud.
9
Oliver: 12 years earlier
There was only one thing worth getting out of bed a half hour early for in the mornings. Hint: It wasn’t sports.
It was a smoking-hot chick from school.
Amber Collins.
Hell yeah!
Blonde, full pink lips, and athletically built with an ass to die for. She was the girl every guy in school wanted, but, she wanted me. Getting to school early meant I could drag her off to the side of the building and maybe finally have enough time to venture beneath her sports bra to see if her tits were on the same level as her sexy butt.
After my shower, a few squirts of cologne, and one last quick comb through my hair, I grabbed my duffle bag and started the drive to school. I could see Amber in front of the building chatting with her girlfriends. At least, that’s what she seemed to be doing. But I knew it was just a ploy to stall and catch me coming in.
It was a game I was all too willing to play.
But the moment my sneaker hit the bottom step, the speakers hanging over the front entrance started crackling with an announcement. One that, much to my dismay, instructed me to report to the principal’s office at once. Both my and Amber’s faces dropped in disappointment.
“I’ll come find you after?” I offered in passing.
“Sure.” She shrugged.
I could hear her and her friends giggling behind me as I walked inside. I wasn’t normally one to seem so eager, but if Amber was just as willing, there didn’t seem to be a point in playing it cool.
“Mr. Humphries, thank you for joining us,” Mrs. Dupree announced as I walked into her small, stuffy office.
I nodded and smiled politely, instantly noticing the girl sitting in the chair across from her. She was plain-looking—nothing special, really—with long, brown curly hair pulled back in a ponytail (her hair sort of reminded me of the professor guy from Back to the Future), and glasses covering the shy expression in her green eyes. Not gonna lie, first impression: What a nerd? The girl wore a plain, gray extra-large shirt, probably hiding a big chest, and baggy pants.