by Jolie Day
Finally, I managed to get one out to the one-hundred-yard mark. I couldn’t help but jump up and down and squeal in another little happy dance. I guessed that was one good thing I managed to milk out of our unfortunate encounter with Sandra.
“I did it! I did it! One hundred yards! Did you see that?” I shrieked.
“That’s what I’m talking about.” Oliver appeared beside me, looking just as happy as I was.
“Thanks for humoring me.” I smiled back at him.
“Hey, the small wins mean everything when you’re learning something new. Go ahead. Take another swing.”
I was eager to try again, but it was infinitely harder to make any attempt at actually hitting the ball with his eyes burning into me from behind. I considered trying to pop my butt or hips out in some way that might look sexy and appealing, but knowing my luck, I’d probably fall over my feet from being so nervous. That would not be a good look for me or even remotely sexy.
With a long inhale, and slower exhale, I swung the club back a few times before finally sending the ball flying. I cringed as I watched it go completely sideways, hitting the fifty-yard mark again, but three or four spaces over from my original shot.
“Well, at least it still went out pretty far.” I shrugged, laughing as I imagined how far off the mark that would have been if I’d been aiming at an actual golf hole.
Oliver and I went back to practicing, but my brain was spinning out of control. We had officially shared not one, but two ridiculously close intense moments. They were each only a few seconds, but time didn’t seem to have much meaning to me as they were happening. What was that look he was giving me? What business did he have staring at my mouth like that…like he wanted to sink right into it?
I wondered if Oliver pulled away so quickly to avoid whatever he was feeling toward me, but I had to stop thinking things like that if I was going to survive the rest of the day.
A while later, Oliver slid his club back into the bag propped up behind us. “You ready to get out of here? We could grab something to eat.”
My heart leapt with hopeful possibilities. But it was quickly squashed by my memory of the woman he’d run into earlier today. It hurt, but I needed to remind myself that he hadn’t looked at her the same way he’d looked at me.
Then I was hit with the vivid flash of the brief moments we had shared that afternoon. But he had looked at me that way for a few seconds, hadn’t he?
“Don’t you have plans with that Triple T chick?” I blurted. Shit. Why did I say that out loud?
His brows wrinkled. “Triple…what?”
“Nothing!” I said quickly. “Nothing. But didn’t you tell that woman earlier today that you’d call her?”
“What woman?”
“Sandra?”
“Are you kidding me?” He wrapped his arm around my shoulders, this time in his usual “big brother” kind of way. “After you avoided my invites to go out for so long, I’ve finally got you for the whole day. I’m not going to miss a moment of this. I just said that so she wouldn’t give me a hard time.”
“You lied.” I grinned and raised a brow at him, but truthfully, I wasn’t complaining.
“No, I didn’t lie. I said maybe. Now, come on. Let’s get out of here. I’m starving.”
He led me along the path next to the parking lot with his arm still wrapped around me, and I could hardly breathe. I couldn’t help but stare at him as we went, until finally, he had the good sense to pull his arm away. Good, I thought. That was better. That was safe. At least two to three feet between us at all times.
We hopped into his car and drove off to one of his favorite restaurants. He already had reservations. I stopped myself from asking if he typically made advance reservations on a Saturday night—we’d usually have somebody tagging along. But this time, it was just the two of us. I could hardly contain my excitement.
For the rest of the evening, it almost felt like old times. Up until I started staying with him, I managed to “survive” years of hangout sessions where everything just came naturally. I wasn’t obsessing over my feelings for him or trying to hide them. We just laughed and talked and had a good time. It must have been what he said he’d been missing between us, and I had to admit, I’d missed it, too.
Dinner turned into drinks, and before I knew it, we were calling a car to come pick us up and take us home. “Should we watch a movie when we get back?” I asked from the opposite end of the dark backseat. The edges of his face were lit up by the passing streetlights, and I couldn’t get over how handsome he was—even after all those years of seeing his face, he was still disarmingly good looking to me.
“Yeah, but I get to pick,” he teased. “I took it easy on you today by taking you to the driving range. So now we’re going to watch something good and scary. I want your adrenaline pumping, you screaming and covering your face—the whole works, or it doesn’t count.”
“Only if you promise to protect me,” I blurted without thinking. The alcohol was causing words to fall out before I could catch them, which was dangerous territory.
But Oliver turned toward me, looking suave as ever. Without missing a beat, he took my hand and replied, “You know I always do. And I always will.”
“I might even jump into your arms if I get too scared.” I could not believe those words just left my mouth. Shit. Oh, well.
He winked. “Not to worry. I’ll catch you.”
And yeah, I might have melted a little right there on the seat, while trying to push away fantasies of what being in his arms or on his lap could entail.
I didn’t dare test the boundaries of what had happened earlier long enough to see if our eyes might lock us into another long, intense moment. He chuckled and squeezed my hand before letting it go. I quickly turned to look out the window, avoiding his gaze.
But if whatever scary movie he picked out sent me flying into his arms for safety, he couldn’t say I hadn’t warned him.
12
Oliver
I couldn’t deny that I got a secret thrill from Laney flying into my arms for protection when we watched The Grudge Saturday night, and not just once. The scene when the female apparition was climbing down the stairs backward with her limbs all jacked up, and when the kid’s face just appeared from beneath the bed was all it had taken. Laney had jumped from her seat and had practically been in my lap. I was still chuckling to myself about it as I strolled through the hall to my front door, whistling while I went.
Something about inviting Laney to stay with me had put a pep in my step. Maybe it was just the new element of surprise. I wasn’t coming home to an empty apartment every night. I liked waking to fresh coffee. Or funny notes sticking to my bathroom mirror, the kitchen counter, the toaster, or the front door. I never knew when she’d be there first, curled up on the couch with takeout, or popcorn, or what movie she’d chosen, or if she’d have another surprise waiting for me. Or when she’d be coming and going. It was just a little extra excitement in the mix, and maybe I’d needed that more than I realized.
I slid my key into the lock and turned. But as the door swung open ready to greet her with a playful “Honey, I’m home,” I was met with an empty penthouse after all. Laney must be working late. I shrugged off my disappointment and walked over to the fridge, opening it to snag a beer.
It hissed as I twisted off the cap and tossed it up in the air. As it landed, I heard the jingle of keys in the front door. Happiness rushed through me. Laney came shuffling in with her arms full and a dripping-wet umbrella.
“Is it raining out?”
She stopped and stared at me, then back down to her soaked body and belongings. “No. Not raining. I just decided to go running through a bursting fire hydrant for fun.” I blinked, staring back at her with a blank expression. “Yes, Oliver. It’s raining.”
“Hey, Yoda, far be it from me to judge somebody on how they like to have fun. Maybe running through fire hydrants is your thing.” I shrugged, taking a sip of my beer.
She dropped her scowl and snorted. “Ha! So, you did read the other Star Wars note. Good.”
“Uh-huh.” I couldn’t help but grin at the surprised expression on her face. “We love that movie. Well, all of them.”
Laney nodded and started shedding herself of everything, plopping it all down into the entryway before straightening to slide out of her drenched sweater. She lifted her arms straight up, giving a brief flash of her sexy, bare waist and stomach, and her black, lacey bra underneath, with beautiful perky nipples poking through the thin material. I cleared my throat and looked away out of politeness until she’d straightened out the T-shirt under the sweater. But damn if the brief flash of what I saw wasn’t enticing. It made me think back to her first night here when I’d seen her tits on full display. The mental image alone caused my dick to jerk into a fucking semi, and I wanted nothing more than to tell her she shouldn’t be ashamed. That I might have already seen her breasts, and they were fucking amazing. … Holy fuck.
Her gaze met mine, seeming to pick up on my interest in watching her partially undress. She had no idea just how fucking gorgeous she was.
I cleared my throat and spun around to the takeout menus in the drawer by the fridge. “Well, I was just about to go out for dinner, but if it’s pouring outside, maybe it’s a good night to stay in. What are you feeling? Chinese? Thai? Oh, maybe Indian.”
“Don’t you have plans with Miles or something? You know, one of the new club openings?”
“I like a quiet night in as much as the next guy.” I spread the menus out on the countertop.
She tilted her head, cutting into me with a knowing stare. “Oh, yeah. Oliver’s just a regular ole homebody. Always has been,” she shot back with a sarcastic grin.
“I vote Indian.”
“Fine,” she sang, breezing past me to her room. “Please order for me. Whatever your favorite is. I’m going to get my things put away and change into some dry clothes.”
Her bedroom door clicked shut, leaving me stuck on the image of her changing and her naked tits. I quickly shook it off. I didn’t know what the hell had gotten into me. Maybe Miles had cursed me ever since he’d gone on about Laney’s good looks that day at work. Or maybe it was the magnetic pull between us at the driving range. Whatever had shifted inside of me had my brain going to places it never had before, places I’d never let it go, but more and more—it was happening beyond my control.
I focused instead on dialing the number for the closest Indian restaurant and placing our order. As soon as I hung up, another text came through. And then another. The first was from a brunette I’d exchanged numbers with at the coffee shop a few mornings ago. The second was from Nadine.
But as I stood there glancing between the rain pelting against the window and the phone in my hand, knowing that Laney was changing clothes behind the door not far from me, the decision seemed clear. Or at least it felt that way, even if it made no sense to me.
“Is the food on its way?” she asked, emerging from the bedroom.
“Yup.” I turned and froze at the sight of her standing there in tiny lounge shorts and a tight-fitting spaghetti-strapped top. My eyes caught on her breasts for a moment before I noticed her shifting, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Oh, it’s actually pretty chilly in here,” she said, slipping back off into her room.
I was kicking myself inside for staring, especially when she came back out wearing a big, baggy hoodie. She’d just been trying to relax in her temporary home. And I had to go and make it weird by ogling her. Maybe I needed to second-guess my decision not to hit up one of the girls blowing up my phone. It’d been about seventy-two hours since I’d gotten any action. The lack of sex over the past couple of nights seemed to be getting to my brain.
“Everything okay?” She eyed me skeptically as she walked over to the couch.
“Of course. I was just thinking about how gorge—I mean, comfy you look. I should get changed as well.” I started off toward the bedroom, but stopped halfway. “Oh, and Laney?”
“Yeah?” She tucked her legs beneath her on the cushion.
“I had a really good time with you on Saturday. The driving range, dinner, drinks—all of it. I’m glad we’re spending time together again.”
With a strange look on her face, she replied quietly, “Me too.”
An hour later, we were bundled up, side by side on the couch, watching some ridiculous show she’d talked me into. Our feet were propped up next to each other on the coffee table, and our laps were filled with Styrofoam boxes.
Laney laughed as she scooped up some curry and rice with her folded piece of naan bread. “No, you see…she wants to be with him, but her career is more important to her. Sometimes you can love somebody, and it’s still just not meant to be.”
“I don’t know how somebody like you watches this crap.” I shook my head. “You’re a freakin’ genius. Your brain’s too big to even stoop to this level.”
“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes. “Anybody could do what I do if they studied and worked hard enough.”
“I doubt that. Highly.”
“Anyway, that’s exactly why I need mindless TV like this. It’s the only thing that takes my mind off work at the end of the day. And I want to enjoy it while I can. If I get accepted into NYU, I’ll be spending every night slaving away on my PhD.”
“Not if you get it,” I corrected her. “But when you get it.”
I smiled at the way she held up two crossed fingers in the air, scrunching up her nose without taking her eyes off the TV. She was chewing a mouthful of food, and somehow it was still adorable. Especially with her hair pulled into a loose bun on top of her head with little strands falling around her face. Her feet, wrapped in pink fuzzy socks, swayed back and forth next to mine on the coffee table. Laney had this way of looking better in nothing than sweats than most girls did when they were done up to the nines.
“Well, surely you understand choosing your career over your love life,” she added.
“I’d say I divide my time between the two, only it’s more of a sex life than a love life.” I was still watching her while she watched the TV, pretending not to notice me. “So. What’s going on with your sex life, anyway? Mine’s fair game—we make fun of it all the time. But you…I haven’t seen you with a guy over once, and you never sleep anywhere else. What’s up with that?”
“You want me bringing guys over to your place for sex?” she shot back.
I paused for a moment, cringing at the thought. “I was just curious.”
She kept her eyes glued straight ahead, taking small bites of the last of her food. “Nothing’s up with anything. I work too much to meet anybody, and you just heard me say that if…” I nudged her arm. “Okay! When I start working on my PhD, I really, really won’t have time. So, there’s just no point in starting something up now. I won’t have any time for a relationship.”
I leaned back against the cushion, directing my attention to the stupid girly TV show she put on. It wasn’t my thing, but hearing her explain it to me was its own form of entertainment. Still, I was itching to know more about Laney’s whole deal with love and sex. I’d never known her to have a serious boyfriend. Or a serious relationship with anybody for that matter. Was she into girls? Is that why she’s the only female friend I’ve ever kept without fucking at some point?
Why my interest in her sex life was piqued…that was beyond me. I didn’t need to know anything about what went on in her bedroom. But suddenly, I was so curious.
“You are into guys, right?” I asked slowly.
Her eyes widened for a moment. She burst into laughter and smacked my arm. “Yes, Oliver. You’re so dumb. Only men can be so blind. While I’m sure you’d love to fantasize about me having sex with another woman in your apartment, I am very much into guys, and only guys.”
“How long has it been?” I blurted out, dying to know.
“Excuse me?”
“You know. How long has it been sinc
e you’ve been with a man?”
She kicked my feet off the coffee table and slammed her empty takeout box down in their place. “Oliver Humphries! What the hell? I’m a lady, and that is none of your business.”
I thought she might be embarrassed to admit it had been a while, but the big grin she was trying to hide told me otherwise.
“I can see that look on your face, you know,” I said, kicking the box further down the table and putting my feet back up in their rightful place. “You’re thinking of somebody right now, aren’t you? Whoever your last gentleman caller was…”
“Gentleman caller?” she shrieked in laughter. “Who even says that? Anyway, I would hardly call it that.”
“But there is something to tell. You know I’m an open book. And my last time was…”
“Three nights ago.” She smirked. “I know all too well. I see them coming and going, remember?”
“Right, so it’s not fair that you get to remain so secretive.”
She rolled her eyes again. “It’s entirely fair, but…I guess if you must know…I’m a virgin.”
I felt a strange pang in my heart, but couldn’t control my urge to know more. “A virgin? You never had a boyfriend?”
“I did. We met on Tinder a few months ago. We both agreed we didn’t really feel a spark or anything special, but we were attracted to each other. He’s just as busy with work as I am. He also lives in another state.”
“You’ve never slept with him?” Obviously if she’s a virgin, dumbass. Duh. What a stupid question. I wasn’t sure why I asked again, or why I needed to hear her answer again. I just had to.
“No. Sometimes we give each other a call,” she said. “You know, a sexy call. It’s like what you have going on, but just on a much, much smaller scale. I have one guy I call, instead of a new girl every night…like you.”