by Jolie Day
“This is really not the conversation I expected to be getting into with you right now. The black dress, or no? Maybe that yellow and pink one I showed you?”
“No! Not the yellow and pink one!” she shouted. “It’s dinner in the city. Not a summer barbeque in the Hamptons. Yes, the black is fine. If you insist on doing this. All I’m saying is, don’t you think you should find out exactly where Oliver stands before you go running off to see someone new? And a dentist? After the foot-fetish doctor, that’s a downgrade—times ten. I’d never trust a dentist, that’s for sure. Let alone take me on a date. Gross. Small popsicle for sure.”
“I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“Everybody knows that. That’s why they like to torture people. It’s to compensate.”
“Stop it, Lisa. Or I won’t be able to keep a straight face all evening.”
“Good!” she said. “You know, I’m normally all about you getting out there and livin’ a little, but won’t it just drive you crazy not to know for sure? Not at least try?”
I humored her enough to sit back and consider it. I stared at the dress hanging in the closet and thought how good I’d look wearing it on Oliver’s arm. But trying to predict the “feelings” conversation always ended in the same inevitable way—me crying and hiding in my bedroom, wishing I’d just kept my mouth shut.
“I’m a big girl, Lisa. I know what I’m doing,” I told her finally.
“Mm-hmm, sure.” She sounded like she believed I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. “That’s why you were about to wear a tropical sundress off to some fancy restaurant with that tooth doctor. Because you know exactly what you’re doing,” she taunted sarcastically.
“Maybe I just threw that out there so you’d get back on topic and tell me to wear the black one.” I flashed a cocky grin at the screen.
She let out a sigh, shaking her head. “Oh, how I long for the day when my best friend can just have normal conversations with people without trying to dictate the outcome.”
“Yeah, yeah. So, I’m a control freak. Get over it. I’ll call you later.”
“You better! Even though I think this date isn’t the best idea, I still want to hear every last detail about it. Bring a measuring tape.” She threw her head back and cackled.
“You can count on it.” I ended the call and tossed the phone back into my bag before grabbing the black dress and sliding it on. It fit like a glove, and even without fixing my hair or doing my makeup, it made me look like a sexy vixen.
I’d just finished applying the last touch of mascara to go with my smokey-eye look when my phone dinged with a text.
Kyle: Hey, Gorgeous, I just pulled up to your building. I’m coming up to get you.
My hand dropped limply to my side, and my eyes grew wide as I swallowed a hard lump down my throat. I hadn’t considered what it would be like if Oliver saw the guy picking me up. I meant to tell him to wait for me in the parking garage, but the phone call with Lisa had me all over the place.
The penthouse had been empty when I got home, so maybe Oliver went straight to the gallery opening from his office. Oliver hadn’t come home yet. So, when I get out as quickly as possible, I only have to pray that I don’t run into him leaving the building. I crossed my fingers and opened my bedroom door, but of course, I was instantly hit with the sound of the stereo playing in the living room.
I walked around the corner to find Oliver standing there with a glass of wine.
Shit. He was home! I didn’t even hear him coming in. Shitshitshit!
His jaw dropped at the sight of me, which at least let me know I was looking as good as I thought I was.
“Hey, you’re—wow—you look beautiful.” He leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. “I thought you were working late tonight?”
Before I could answer, there was a knock at the door.
Knock. Knock.
“Hang on. Who the hell could that be?” He started for the door.
“I’ll get it!” I shrieked, racing to cut Oliver off. With my hand on the knob, I glared back at him over my shoulder. He was hovering so close behind me, I could feel his breath on my neck. I didn’t need those sensations creeping over me right then. “Do you mind? Can you back up a little?”
Knock. Knock.
“Geez, okay.” He stepped back with his hands up in mock-surrender, his eyes dark.
I flung open the door and smiled at Kyle who was waiting there with a bouquet of roses in his hand. Red roses! He looked just as handsome as I remembered, but his perfect smile faded into confusion when he noticed Oliver standing right there behind me.
“Barney?” Oliver narrowed his gaze on Kyle’s face.
“This is Kyle,” I corrected him through clenched teeth. “And this is… my roommate, Oliver. You might remember him from the night we met at the club.”
“Roommate?” Oliver’s eyebrows nearly hiked to his hairline.
“Oh, a roommate?” Kyle’s brow raised.
“It’s a long story.” I grinned at Kyle, feeling my cheeks blushing. “I can tell you over dinner. Are these for me?”
“Oh, yes.” He nodded, sliding the bouquet into my hand. He leaned in to kiss my cheek—the same one Oliver had just kissed—as he handed the flowers over. I could feel Oliver’s body closing in on me from behind again.
“They’re beautiful. I’ve never received such a nice bouquet.”
Kyle’s eyes cut to “my roommate” before he pulled back. I could only imagine what kind of look they exchanged over my shoulder. “I’m glad you like them. Well, should we get going? I have reservations for the Lidor.”
“Oh, the Lidor? Wow,” I said. “Absolutely. Let me just get these into some water.” I spun around to go into the kitchen and find a vase but ran smack-dab into Oliver’s chest.
He stared down at me. Hurt flashed across his eyes. His fingers wrapped around mine and the stems of the bouquet. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of these for you.”
My face felt hot, and my heart was pounding.
This was the worst-case scenario.
Oliver didn’t seem too happy as he loomed over the start of my date, and now he offered to take care of the roses the guy bought for me. I could imagine that the flowers wouldn’t survive the next few minutes if I left them in his care. He’d likely shred them to pieces, with Kyle’s face in mind based on his expression. This was not good. Shit.
“No, you really don’t have to do that.” I smiled politely, praying for him not to make it any more awkward for me than it already was.
“I’ve got it,” Oliver said. Something in his eyes shifted. “Don’t miss your table—it would be a shame. You should try the Greek-style tart. The Lidor’s chef is from Athens. The dessert is delicate.” I didn’t miss the hint of disappointment in his undertone.
It was like I was staring at a different man. I let go of the flowers, leaving them in his hand. He leaned down and whispered: “He kinda looks funny. If he tries anything funny, call me.”
“We can talk later,” I said sternly. “Besides, I don’t want you to be late for your gallery opening.” I raced to Kyle’s side, desperate to get the hell out of there, a hard lump in my throat. “You ready?”
“Enjoy your evening.” Oliver tried to smile—and failed. It looked strained. Dammit.
“Nice to meet you.” Kyle waved to him, which Oliver ignored, before sliding his hand into mine and escorting me down the hall.
I resisted the urge to glance back and see him standing there in the doorway, staring at me leaving with my dentist-date. I refused to let myself think that Lisa might have been right. Oliver had plenty of chances to tell me if I was more than just a friend to sleep with.
Holding my head high, I kept walking along with Kyle.
I’d seen him run off on plenty of dates, leaving me behind. It was about damn time he was the one left waiting—if he was even waiting. I felt utterly horrible, but there was no way I’d turn back.
26
&n
bsp; Oliver
My fists clenched as I watched that tool strut down the hall with her on his arm. I noticed the lack of space between their bodies, and part of me wanted to punch the fucking wall, but instead, I turned and walked back in the apartment, resisting the urge to slam the door behind me.
Roommate? Her fucking roommate? What the fuck?
The large bouquet of roses in my hand taunted me. The blooms smiled up at me, and I swore I could hear them singing little songs about her and that douche making out in the car or, God forbid, stumbling into her bedroom together at the end of the night.
Surely, she wouldn’t be so cruel and bring him back there, would she?
Over my dead fucking body.
I considered throwing the damn things in the trash, or maybe shredding them and leaving them in her bedroom. Why not give the happy couple some ambience to come home to? I tossed them onto the counter to stop myself from doing anything fucking rash. Instead, I snatched up my glass of wine. After throwing back what was left in the glass, I planted myself on the couch with the whole bottle in hand.
I hated the thought of another man near her, or even looking at her in that dress. Where did she even get that thing? She was dressed to kill. And it was working. Because I felt like I was dying inside. My mind was reeling with all the possibilities. Was he putting his hand on her back as he showed her into the restaurant? Did he stare at her perfect ass when she walked by? It was too much to take.
I sank back against the couch, bringing the bottle to my lips for a big swig. I knew I couldn’t just sit there and drink all night. I’d be a sloppy, half-crazed, drunken mess by the time my roommate came home…if she came home.
A lightbulb went off. Why should I sit around all night, torturing myself over whatever she was doing out there with that schmuck? I had plenty of girls chomping at the bit to go out with me. Hell, I could have a chick on my dick in less than ten minutes. If she was going to flaunt her dates right in front of me, I’d go on a date, too. Maybe we’d even end up at the same restaurant.
It wasn’t right, but I couldn’t contain my jealousy. I pulled out my phone and started flipping through my contacts. But as I swiped through the list of available women, my heart sank further. I hadn’t been with anybody else since I’d slept with Laney. It wasn’t even a conscious decision I’d made. It just felt better to wait around for the possibility of things evolving between us rather than taking a chance with another woman.
Obviously, she doesn’t feel the same, dumbass. Or she wouldn’t be out there with that moron right now. Just pick a chick and call. You’ll forget all about what Laney’s doing in no time.
My thumb hesitated over several different names. Shit. I couldn’t bring myself to pull the trigger. I finally gave up and let my hand flop down beside me with my fingers loosely curled around my useless phone. I’d just have to accept my agony for the night and find a way to pass the time.
I stared down at the dark screen. Damon! He was a pro at tracking anybody down. He could tell me what kind of creeper we were dealing with here.
I dialed his number and waited anxiously for him to pick up. He’d barely said hello when I started rattling off instructions.
“‘T’sup. You know how we put files together on high-risk clients? Well. I need you to do the same for me. I don’t have much information on the guy. Just that he’s a dentist, first name’s Kyle, and he wears a bright purple shirt.”
“Whoa, buddy. Slow down. What’s going on?” I could hear the background noise drift further away as he stepped off somewhere more private. “And why aren’t you here at the gallery?” I heard a door close. Probably a bathroom. “You know we’re supposed to be schmoozing these new potential buyers.”
“Forget that,” I said. “My brother can do the ass kissing for tonight. I need you to get on this.”
“Why exactly? Who the fuck is this guy?”
“That’s what you need to find out.”
“Okay?”
I hated the tone in his voice. Like I’d lost my mind. Maybe I had. Okay, I had, but fuck it. And I was only about to make it worse. “He’s out with Laney tonight. I just want to make sure he’s not a date rapist or some kind of con man.”
“Uh-huh.” The line fell silent for a moment. “So, I take it you haven’t talked to her yet?”
“We hooked up again,” I groaned. “Well over and over again, actually. But then she fed me the same bullshit. That it had to stop. She just wants to be friends, then… Shit’s just fucked up, all right, and I don’t know what’s going on now. It’s fine. It’s whatever. But the least I can do is keep no-good perverts away from her.”
He let out a chuckle, mixed with a sigh. “Listen, Oliver. I get that you’re worried about her. If that’s what we’re calling it…” I could imagine him hanging his head, pitying me and thinking I’d really lost it, “…instead of pure unchecked jealousy, which is what we’re really dealing with here. But Laney is a grown woman. She can date and fuck and make her own decisions about who she does that with. Anyway, why do you care so much now? Surely you’ve seen her date before over the years.”
“It’s different now,” I said. My frustration grew as I realized I’d done this to myself. All those years I spent completely blind to all that Laney really was, I blocked it out—everything I could feel for her—it all made the bed I was being forced to lie in now.
“Can you fucking help me or not, Damon?”
“No, dude,” he said. “I’m not going to help you stalk her boyfriend.” His pitch raised, sounding incredulous. “Obviously.”
“He’s not her fucking boyfriend.”
“Just come out to the gallery, and get out of your head for a while. Maybe by tomorrow, you’ll finally just accept that nothing is going to change unless you risk telling Elaine how you fucking feel.”
I raked my hand down my face with a growl. “Fine. Whatever. I’ll think about coming out.”
I ended the call, knowing damn well I was in no shape to go out and be around anybody. Taking several deep breaths, I plopped back on the couch and tried to calm down. I thought back to the first time Laney and I had sex, and how she’d avoided me afterward. How she’d driven me nuts until our “friendship” had gotten back to normal again. How I couldn’t sleep until I had her in my arms again. That’d been a fucking walk in the park compared to this shit. She was on a fucking date, and not with me. Kyle could eat a dick.
And this burning in my chest? Jealous? Fucking Damon. The prick.
27
Laney
“Thanks for walking me in.” I stopped Kyle in the lobby to avoid another run-in with Oliver at the apartment. “I had a great time tonight.”
“Did you?” He winced. “You seemed a little distracted. Don’t take this the wrong way, but is something going on with you and your roommate? I saw the way he looked at us when I picked you up. No worries if you’re wrapped up in something else.”
I shuffled my feet and stared down at the floor. I couldn’t very well tell Kyle that things with my “roommate” were complicated.
Or that I’d just recently given him my virginity.
“I know it took me too long to call you after we met,” he said.
“I guess this is kind of an odd time for me.” I sighed. “I’m sorry. But maybe we could do this again some time…when I’m not feeling so off.”
“I’d like that,” he told me with a smile. “You sure I can’t talk you into coming out for one more drink—or two? I know a nice place just around the corner. We could go back to my place after. I don’t have any roommates.”
I stared into his big blue eyes, paired with that charming smile that made him look like a male model. A part of me wanted to want to get drunk enough with him to make me forget all about Oliver, at least for a little while. I thought having another man’s hands on me might be the perfect remedy to everything.
But in that moment, all I could think was, as perfect as this handsome doctor may be—he’s not Oliver. Not ev
en close.
“Not tonight,” I finally answered. “But some other time?”
“Sure thing.” He leaned down and kissed my cheek and stood by like a gentleman until he saw the elevator doors close between us.
I slumped my back against the mirrored wall and felt my chest growing tighter with each passing floor. Would Oliver be home by now? And worse, would he have brought a girl home? Come to think of it, I hadn’t seen another girl around in weeks. But maybe he was just polite enough not to flaunt that sort of thing in front of me after we’d just been together.
The apartment was dark when I walked in.
I let out a sigh of relief. Oliver must not have been home yet. I flipped on the light and felt my heart jolt at the sight of the figure in the corner. I jumped and shrieked, picturing the baseball bat I knew Oliver kept in his closet, until I realized it was him sitting there.
“Jesus! You scared the crap out of me,” I cried, trying to catch my breath. “What are you doing, sitting around in the dark like that?”
“Sorry. Couldn’t sleep. Did you have a good time?”
His eyes were glossy with his lids hanging low. He looked terrible, like he’d been up for days. I’d only been gone a few hours.
“It was good.” I sounded casual but confident. Why the hell does he care, anyway?
He shot up from his chair and walked over to me, waiting to meet me face-to-face as I rose from setting my things down by the door. His eyes were dark and filled with worry and stress. They dropped to my lips.
“Did he kiss you?” he asked with dead seriousness.
“No.”
“Or touch you in any way?”
“No! Geez, Oliver. It was just dinner. We’re not all man whores who fuck on the first date.”
His head suddenly dropped to mine, bringing his hand up, cupping my chin to draw my face to his. He inched closer until his lips softly touched mine. I got lost in it for a moment, almost giving into him completely.