by Bella King
I was thankful that I wasn’t there alone with Oliver. He made me slightly uncomfortable with his size and strength. He didn’t seem especially aggressive now, but I wouldn’t want to get on his bad side. He looked like he could rip a body in half with little effort.
I clumsily poured cola into the vodka, the light caramel fizz rising up to the top as I poured. I waited for a second and poured a bit more to top it off.
“Enjoy,” I said, handing the cup to Oliver.
He took it from me, brushing his fingers against mine as he did so. They were warm and a little rough. I could tell he lifted weights from the callouses on his hands. He didn’t play sports, but he didn’t need to. His body was impressive.
Oliver downed the two shots and cola in a few gulps, smacking the cup back down on the kitchen counter with more force than necessary, crumping the bottom of the cup. “Thanks,” he said with a smirk.
I picked up the bottle and poured myself a mixed drink with less vodka in it. I didn’t want to get wasted in a group of college guys. There was no telling how that would turn out.
“Join us for some poker,” Oliver offered, motioning behind him to the living room.
I followed him from the kitchen to the living room, where his friends were waiting impatiently to continue their game. Oliver plopped down on the worn couch and patted beside him for me to sit.
I sat down, noting that the couch was quite torn up on the sides and armrests. I concluded that there must be a cat somewhere around the apartment, probably hiding from all the loud drunk people.
“You have a cat,” I asked Oliver, but it sounded more like a statement than a question.
Oliver chuckled, pushing poker chips to my side of the coffee table. “Indeed, I do, but she’s sleeping in the room. She doesn’t like all these people here.”
Mia winked at me, and I frowned, taking a sip of my drink.
“What are we playing for?” I asked.
“Nothing at the moment,” Oliver said.
Mia’s eyes lit up. “Money,” she said loudly.
I laughed. “Mia, you don’t have any money to bet with.”
She grabbed the cards that were dealt to her. “I don’t need to have money if I’m the one winning.”
Oliver shrugged. “She has a point.”
I could see his cards from beside him. He had an Ace and a Four, same suite. I looked at Mia slyly. “Yes, let’s do 50 bucks then. I’ll cover Mia’s bet.”
Mia flashed me an ‘OK’ sign with her fingers, nodding with approval.
The other guys around the table nodded along, and Oliver sighed. “If you want me to take even more of your money, go right ahead,” he said smoothly.
I laughed. “Ain’t going to happen, buddy.” I pulled my cards up from the table, sliding them between my breasts and peeking at them. I had a Jack and a Queen. Not bad.
I was fuzzy and overconfident from the alcohol, but I played well in the first hand. I bet high and won the first round, scooping a pile of cheap colorful plastic chips into my pile.
Oliver smirked at me when I folded my second hand, but I knew his cards had me beat. It would be easier if I could everyone’s hands, but I had to be happy with the advantage I already had. There was no way for him to win, at least, if he kept flashing his cards to me by accident.
A few more rounds went, and one player dropped from the game. The total pool of money was at $300 with six players, but $100 of that was mine due to my contribution on behalf of Mia.
I had to win this, or I wouldn’t have enough money for my morning coffee, and I would have to resort to drinking dining hall coffee. That stuff tasted like someone boiled a brown paper bag and dumped in enough caffeine to send you to the toilet after your first two sips. I preferred iced coffee anyway.
“Are you going to play?” Oliver asked, snapping me out of my coffee daydream.
I hadn’t even realized I had zoned out, but I suppose that happens when you drink a lot of vodka in a short amount of time. I flung my cards on the table, folding, and got up to pour myself another drink.
As I got up, Oliver’s hand shot out and tugged on the hem of my dress. I looked up to see him leaning over with his face dangerously close to my ass, looking up at me. “Could you get me another drink?” He asked.
I slapped his hand away. “Yes, I’ll get you one,” I snapped.
A crooked smile appeared on his face. “Thanks, Lydia,” he said.
The way that he said my name was slow and deliberate, as though he were singling me out by saying it. I could tell that he was drunk already, and I was heading in that direction quicker than I thought I would.
I knew that I told myself I wouldn’t get wasted, but part of me wanted to try my luck this evening. Everything was going so smoothly, and I had Mia to keep an eye on me in case anything got out of hand.
I wobbled into the kitchen and knocked over a few used cups as I slid my hand over the counter to a fresh stack. I pulled two from the stack and poured a few shot’s worth of vodka in each of them. That finished off the first bottle.
I poured in the cola, overfilling one of them and giggling. That would be Oliver’s since it was all sticky now. I took a sip from it so that I wouldn’t slosh out the content onto the carpet and moseyed back to the living room so that I wouldn’t miss the next round of poker.
Mia was leaning over one of the guys in the group, laughing and flirtatiously trying to check his cards. I laughed at her antics but felt cheerful and a bit flirtatious myself as I sat down with Oliver.
“Jesus, this is strong,” Oliver exclaimed after taking a rather large gulp of his drink.
“I like them strong,” I purred.
He laughed. “Then you’re going to love my next hand,” he said, standing up and pushing his chips into the middle. “All in.”
I squinted at him as every other player at the table folded. I could eliminate him now if I went all in against him. Oliver sat back smugly with his cards face down on the table. I looked down at my hand. I had a pair of Jacks, which was a good hand considering the circumstances.
There were three open cards on the table, one of them another Jack. Even if Oliver had a pair of Aces, I had the better hand. I placed my cards down on the table, face up. “All in,” I parroted.
Oliver flipped his cards over, revealing double Aces, as I thought. This guy was too predictable. I crossed my arms, basking in my probable victory against Oliver. He shrugged, signaling for the dealer to place the last two cards.
The first card that came down made my heart sink. It was another Ace. What the fuck? I was screwed! The second card was a Three, and that wrapped up the round. Oliver wiped me out.
I groaned, rolling my eyes and snatching my plastic cup from the table to take another large swig of my beverage. Once again, Oliver was taking my money.
Oliver patted me on the back firmly. “Maybe next time,” he said mockingly.
I had the urge to toss my drink into his face, but I knew that was unwarranted and would get me in trouble. It would only enhance his perception of me having violent outbursts. The cabinet bashing had been a one-off occurrence, and I wasn’t going to give Oliver another reason to think poorly of me.
“I need to feed the cat. I’ll skip the next two rounds. Play without me,” Oliver said, standing up and swaying before finding his footing.
I was afraid he might topple down on top of me, but he steadied himself quickly and took a calculated step over my legs into unoccupied space.
I sprung up behind him. “I’d like to meet your cat,” I said, aware of how much my words were slurring. My face was rosy, and my body was numb enough not to feel when I banged my knee on the coffee table when standing up.
“Yeah, come with me. Just close the door, so she doesn’t run out,” he replied.
I followed Oliver closely as he opened the bedroom door gently and flicked on the light. I went in after him, quietly closing the door so that we were alone in the room with the cat. I hadn’t noticed how loud
it was in the living room until we were in his bedroom.
His cat, a black shorthair with yellow eyes, yawned dramatically as Oliver went into the bathroom connected to his room to refill her food. I went to pet her, but she jumped from the bed when she heard the bag of dry food rustle in the bathroom.
I looked around Oliver’s bedroom, never thinking that I would end up here. His walls were bare aside from an anatomical poster with labeled muscle groups. There were a few free weights scattered on the floor in the corner, and a desk with a desktop computer neatly arranged on it.
Oliver came back out of the bathroom and leaned against the doorway. “So,” he said. “Why did you come here?”
“Uh, Mia wanted to,” I replied.
Oliver waved a hand of dismissal. “She’s not really important, is she?”
“She’s my friend, so yeah,” I replied. I crossed my arms and lowered my eyes at Oliver. “I only came here because she wanted to.”
Oliver shrugged. “Yeah, I mean, that’s cool and all,” he said, stepping toward me. His eyes were glazed over from the booze, and I could tell that he was in a worse state than I was. He had definitely started drinking before I had.
I was very nearly in a state of stupor like he was, but not quite there. I didn’t want to be either, so I thought it time to leave. I began to reach for the doorknob to leave when Oliver lurched toward me, grabbing my hand firmly.
He had no control over the tightness of his grip. The vodka had taken his fine motor skills before I had even arrived at the apartment with Mia.
“Oliver, what are you doing?” I asked, tugging my arm. “That hurts.”
Oliver stared into my eyes, moving in a light sway as he attempted to keep his balance. “I thought you wanted to spend some time here with me,” he grumbled.
His voice was deep and animalistic, a surge of testosterone hitting him as he leered at my body in the black dress I was wearing. His hand reached out to my leg and lifted it.
“I don’t know,” I said, unable to concentrate on what was happening. My pulse was throbbing in my ears, and I felt the strong urge to lay down on his bed and let whatever was destined to happen, happen.
Oliver title his head down, peering at my panties as he raised my dress further. I had worn pink panties with a little silk bow on the front of them, which may have been a mistake. Maybe he wouldn’t have been so interested in me had I put on something more conservative.
My clothing choices didn’t excuse his behavior. I smacked his hand done as I realized where this would lead. “I need to head home,” I said. A slight sense of panic spread over me. My hands were sweaty, and I realized that I barely knew what was going on.
“You can lay down if you feel bad,” Oliver said, motioning to his bed.
“No,” I replied. “I want to go home.”
Oliver finally loosened his grip on my wrist. “I’m not keeping you from going,” he said, his blue eyes swirling with sexual intent.
His words made me feel more in control, and the panic subsided into a vague concern. “It would be scary if you did keep me here. You know, Mia is still outside waiting for me,” I warned.
Oliver’s hands found my waist, and he pushed himself toward me, pressing me against the wall. “She probably thinks we’re having sex,” he said slowly, studying my face for a reaction.
I felt his crotch pressed between my legs, and the familiar heat of longing formed between mine. No, this wasn’t my plan. I wasn’t going to let him win over me like that. Drunk or not, I wasn’t losing my dignity to a teacher’s pet who screwed me out of half my paycheck.
But then again, it had been so long since I let myself have fun. I looked up into his handsome face, and I guess that was enough of a signal for him to plant his lips against mine. It wasn’t my intention, but once they hit, I was sucked into the passion like a hummingbird to nectar.
I drank the excitement that he flowed from his lips, lapping up his intention with sensual greed. My body felt all kind of pleasure as he pressed in closer, showing me how much he desired me. His hand ran down my cheek, lingering om my chin before falling straight down to my collar.
Oliver yanked at my dress, nearly tearing it and definitely breaking a few threads as he sought access to my breasts. A rush of adrenaline hit me from his actions, and that’s what pulled me out of the spell.
With adrenaline pumping through my bloodstream, I found myself feeling more sober, and reason flooded back into my brain. I slipped sideways from his intimidating figure and grabbed the doorknob.
“I’m going to leave now,” I blurted.
Oliver frowned. “Why?”
“I’m too drunk. Let’s not talk about this,” I said hastily.
Oliver smirked at me. “What a tease,” he said, pushing me away from the door and opening it himself. “Get out,” he said sternly.
I slunk out of his bedroom, walking shamefully back to the living room. All heads turned to me, as though I had just got done sucking Oliver’s cock in the bedroom.
“Come on, I wasn’t gone for that long,” I scolded as Mia winked at me. She sat at the table with a pile of chips in front of her. Her only remaining opponent was Oliver.
Oliver strode out of the room behind me, nearly busting a hole in the flimsy drywall as he banged against it after overestimating how far he needed to move forward to get into the living room. He was drunker than I thought.
“Yeah, I think we can finish this game tomorrow,” Mia laughed, pulling out her phone to take a picture of the table, so she didn’t have to count the chips before leaving.
Oliver waved drunkenly at Mia and me as we put our shoes on. His friends rushed toward him, trying to hold him up as he swayed violently as though the house was boat rocking in the sea.
I shook my head, unable to hide a smile as Oliver blew me a kiss. I hoped he didn’t even remember this in the morning. I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about him, but being drunk, I couldn’t really gauge my true feelings at the moment. I was one drink away from being in the state he was in.
Mia and entered into the night air, and walked arm in arm back to our apartment, leaving the booze there to pick up the next day. I doubted they would be breaking into the next bottle of vodka tonight.
Chapter 10
Unlike Mia, I didn’t spend the rest of my evening chugging glasses of water and running to the bathroom every five minutes due to overhydration. If I had, I wouldn’t have been so hungover the next morning.
“God, do you have anything for a headache?” I groaned, dragging my feet into the kitchen to find Mia making coffee.
She gave me a sympathetic look and pointed to a bottle of painkillers on the kitchen table. I held my throbbing cranium, popping the lid off and pouring three directly into my mouth. “Water,” I demanded, stumbling over to the sink.
Mia laughed as I stuck my dry mouth under the faucet. Tap water never tasted so good as it did when I was sorely hungover and had powdery pills to swallow.
I lifted my head up, bracing myself against the counter as my skull pounded with the change of pressure. I looked up at Mia with bloodshot eyes, who seemed content with a steaming cup of black coffee. “I guess you feel better than I do.”
Mia nodded. “I would assume so. I always drink water after a night of boozing it up. It helps with the hangover.”
I held up a finger. “I’ll have to remember that next time.”
Mia sipped her coffee and sat down in a wobbly wooden chair that we had picked up from a yard sale not long after we moved into the apartment. “So, did you have sex with Oliver or what?”
I dug back into the fuzzy memories from the night before. “No, but he certainly tried.”
“And you said no?”
I went to the coffee machine and poured my own cup of bitter liquid. I hated this stuff, but I wasn’t about to go to the coffee shop to get iced coffee just yet. I needed to recover first.
I pulled out the only other chair in the kitchen and sat down, rubbing my temple with
one hand. “Not exactly. I think we kissed.”
Mia’s eyes lit up. “Oh, that’s progress.”
I shook my head gently, careful not to shake my painful brain around too violently. “I don’t think it was a good idea. Now he probably thinks I like him.”
“Don’t you?”
I took a sip of the piping hot coffee and made a face. It was far too bitter for me to ingest, especially while my stomach was churning from all the sugary alcohol that I had consumed last night. “I don’t trust him,” I stated. “There’s something about him that’s off.”
Mia raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that, or are you just scared to fall in love?”
“Don’t make me throw up, please,” I said, sliding the cup of coffee across the table away from me. “I don’t like Oliver like that.”
Mia shrugged. “We still have to finish the poker game. I’m going to take every last dime he has.”
I laughed. “I’d like to see you do that and give me my 50 bucks back when you do.”
“Of course,” Mia replied, taking another sip of her coffee. “Any plan for today?”
Judging by the state of my hangover, I assumed that I would be spending the rest of the day recovering. I had no energy for any more fun, but I would have liked to get some prep work done for class on Monday. School doesn’t stop for anyone. I knew that well.
“No,” I replied softly. “I think I’m going to go back to sleep after I eat something.”
“Probably for the best,” Mia said, getting up and circling around to the back of me. She patted my shoulder and left the room.
I sunk into my chair, cradling my aching head until I got the energy to get up and dig around the fridge for whatever leftovers I could find. Cold spaghetti it would have to be.
I couldn’t get the odd feeling about Oliver out of my head. It was as though I had encountered him before in the past, but digging that deep came up with very little in the form of true recognition. If he hadn’t shown up somewhere in my past, then why was I so wary of him now? He hadn’t done anything expressly forceful or unwanted to me. He respected my boundaries, for the most part, and he was cheerful when he was close to me.