by Bella King
“Remember what happened with Todd? Well, I caught Jordan watching me on the way to class,” I said, fully realizing that I sounded a bit loopy.
Mia shook her head. “You want some?” She asked, holing the mixed drink up to me.
“No, thanks. I just think something is going on,” I said.
“You’re really stressed out about school. Are you sure you’re not just letting your anxiety get the better of you? Remember when you freaked out last year about your ex,” Mia replied, taking a sip of her drink and making a face. “Now, that’s what I call a drink.”
I breathed out of my nose in amusement at her behavior before becoming serious again. She was referring to the time last year that I thought my ex had driven all the way to the school to see me because I saw a car that looked just like his parked in the guest parking lot. It had a different plate though, and I never saw it again.
“You never know. That could have been him,” I said.
“You see what I’m saying? You’re getting paranoid again, and it’s probably stress. Did Oliver invite you to the party this weekend?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“Well, you should go. I’m going. We can play poker again or something, maybe win some more money,” Mia suggested.
Now with both Oliver and Mia suggesting that I come to the party, it was harder to say no. “I told Oliver I would think about it. He was really intent on me coming, even though he told me that he wasn’t interested in me.”
Mia laughed. “Oh, he totally is. Also, I talked to him about this crazy ex-girlfriend thing, and his story doesn’t hold up. Maybe he’s just shy.”
Oliver wasn’t shy. He was abrasive and had no issue barging up to me even when I didn’t want him to. If he was lying about his ex, then there was something else weird going on that had nothing to do with being shy.
I picked up a french fry from my plate and took a bite, expecting crispness but getting a soggy squish. I should have known by now that the fries would never be good at the dining hall, but I was always hopeful when I scooped them onto my plate.
“He’s not shy, but there’s definitely something up. I think we should go to the party and do a little investigating,” I said.
Mia’s eyes grew wide, and she slammed the cup down onto the table. “Great, I love it,” she said excitedly.
“Just make sure Oliver doesn’t get me alone again, please,” I said.
Mia shrugged. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
“I mean it,” I said, waving a limp fry in front of her. “I’m only going to find out more about what’s going on.”
“Fine, I’ll do my best.”
I wasn’t fully satisfied with her attitude toward helping me stay away from Oliver, but it was better than nothing. I might even have to get him alone to question him in an effective manner. Drunk horny guys will spill a lot more information that people think. If Oliver thought he was getting pussy, he might just tell me everything I wanted to know.
“Fuck, there they are,” I said, pointing across the dining hall to Oliver and his posse as they walked in.
Mia craned her next backward, trying to get a good look at them.
Oliver was at the head of the pack, as usual, with Jordan and a few other guys trailing behind him. They weren’t the only group of guys that traveled together, but they were definitely the most intimidating when they did.
The men in the group were all over six feet, muscular, and all gorgeous in a bad boy sort of way. One of them had an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips, the dry paper clinging to the wetness of his mouth. People cleared the way when they came in, not wanting to get in the way. They weren’t violent people as far as I understood, but they still looked like they could break you in half if you pissed them off.
Oliver always dressed smartly, having fresh new clothes all the time and heavy cologne that smelled like it cost more than my monthly paycheck. I wondered how he afforded all that on top of his apartment with the low salary they provided for teacher’s assistants. It was possible that his parents were loaded, but I had never heard him talk about it.
I guess that was just another thing that I had to ask him about. I had known from the beginning that there was something off about Oliver, and this weekend I was going to find out exactly what it was. I felt like I knew him before he even had introduced himself, and the more I saw him, the most I got the feeling that he had been hanging around for a lot longer than I had noticed.
Mia and I watched the gang of guys take trays and grab food from the array that was laid out under the harsh food lamps drying everything to a crisp. I never realized how much men ate until I watched a group of them nearly wipe out the entire dinner bar. The only thing that was left was a few soggy green beans floating a vat of oily saltwater and half a bun.
Mia made it a point to make eye contact with Oliver. I tried to stop her, but she had already waved him over before I could put up much of a protest.
“You two are still coming to the party, right?” Oliver asked, looking at me when he asked the question.
Mia nodded. “Totally.”
I shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“You really should,” Oliver responded, shifting his eyes left and right as though he were watching out for something. “It’s going to be fun.”
There he was again, making me feel like he was hiding something. Why did he ant me at that party so bad if he didn’t like me? What was there to gain from me being there, and why was he acting so suspicious.
Mia didn’t read people the same way I did. I followed my gut because I had experience with dangerous and unstable people before in the past. It wasn’t just my ex-boyfriend who had been a threat to me. I didn’t come from a nice neighborhood, and there was always someone waiting to fuck you up the second they got the chance. I had escaped several instances that could have quickly turned to robbery or rape, and I wasn’t ready to let go of that instinctual defense mechanism just yet.
Briarwood may have been a nice college, but I was sure shit still went down there. It happened at every college. Try putting a bunch of young adults from different backgrounds in the same place and see if someone doesn’t get groped or stabbed. Shit happens.
Now, I was thrust into an odd situation with Oliver and his gang, and I wasn’t sure what to make of it. I didn’t exactly feel afraid around Oliver, though I had in the beginning. There was something going on that I didn’t know about, though, and I didn’t like that.
Oliver stood in front of me, arms crossed, something serious behind his warm smile. He wanted me at the party badly, but I didn’t know why. I was going to find out.
“Should we bring more vodka?” Mia asked, breaking the awkward stare that had ensued after Oliver had spoken to me.
Oliver snapped out of his gaze. “If you want. I think the guys are all bringing booze. We have music too, and there will be more people there this time.”
“How many people can you fit in your apartment?” I asked. It would be awfully crowded int here with more people than just Oliver and his group.
“More than you’d expect. If it gets too crowded, you can always hang out in the bedroom with my cat,” Oliver said, a twinkle of a devious nature in his beautiful blue eyes.
I had to rip myself from his gaze again. There was no reason why I should be so enamored by him, but I was, and it fucked with me.
“We’ll see you Saturday then,” Mia said cheerfully.
Oliver nodded, winking at me and walking away.
When he was out of hearing range, I leaned over to Mia. “That fucker winked at me. Did you see that?”
“He likes you. I don’t know why he’s trying to keep it a secret, but he totally does,” she assured me.
Chapter 17
Saturday night brought more questions than it answered. Mia and I arrived at Oliver’s apartment, baring gifts of alcohol and potato chips. We figured it was best not to come empty handed although Oliver had given us the option to bring however much
or little we fancied.
Oliver opened the door for us, peeking outside behind us as though there would be more people coming in. There were none. His behavior was markedly different from the first time I had hung out with him. He was more sober, but also seemed more on edge.
“God, I love sour cream and onion,” Mia exclaimed, heading straight for the bag of chips on the coffee table in the living room.
The guys were in there playing poker again, but Oliver wasn’t playing. He was mixing cocktails in the kitchen, and took my bags of stuff with him, leaving me standing at the door with a decision to make. Was I going to join Mia or Oliver?
I decided to stick to my plan of subtle interrogation, so I stepped into the pale yellow kitchen to speak with Oliver.
I was wearing another dress, red this time, with a pearl necklace that my parents had given to me before I left for college. It was the most expensive piece of jewelry I had. Hell, it was about the only piece of jewelry I had. I didn’t exactly have money burning a hole through my pocket like Oliver apparently did. That would be my first inquiry.
“So,” I began, doing a sultry sidestep toward Oliver. I could smell the rich scent of his cologne and was immediately reminded of the last party when he kissed me. I felt guilty for wanting his lips again. “How much are they paying you to suck Professor Lyche’s dick at school?”
Oliver laughed, pouring whiskey into a red solo cup. “Not enough, that’s for sure. What, are you thinking of becoming an assistant?”
I shrugged. “Maybe. I just wanted to know how you can afford so much nice stuff.”
Oliver grew quiet, his shoulders hunching in defensively as he poured soda into the whiskey cup. “I’m good with money.”
I didn’t buy that, not with how much he spent on booze every weekend. Even the whiskey he was pouring was at least middle shelf quality. College students drink vodka, not mid-tier whiskey.
“Could you make me a drink?” I asked, lightening my tone. I didn’t want him to think I was grilling him. I wanted to seem calm and casual.
“Sure thing. What do you want?”
“Vodka cranberry,” I replied, seeing the bottle of cranberry juice on the counter.
Oliver snatched a bottle of vodka off the table and flipped it around his back like a bartender. I was impressed by this move, but I didn’t show it in my face. He wouldn’t get that satisfaction until I knew what was going on.
Oliver glanced at me, smirking as he poured a double shot of vodka into another plastic cup. “Not impressed?” He teased, noticing that I was trying to hide the fact.
“I’ve seen better bartending,” I said in an aloof tone.
Oliver handed my cranberry vodka to me. “And I’ve seen better liars.”
His words sent a shiver down my spine. He could see right through me, but I wasn’t going to give up that easily. I needed to know what was going on.
I let the party unwind us both for a while, dialing back my questions until Oliver was drunker. It didn’t take long. About an hour and a half into eating chips and drinking we were all tipsy enough to start laughing at stupid jokes and revealing more than we usually did about ourselves.
I found out that Jordan was an aspiring athlete but had been kicked off the soccer team for playing too aggressively. He was considering transferring to another school to continue his sports career. Mia was hanging off every word he said like it was honey, and I was relieved. That meant that she was no longer chasing Oliver, at least for the time being.
Was I jealous when she spent time with Oliver? Maybe, but I had no right to be, and I knew that. I could pursue him if I wanted to, but I wasn’t. We had our boundaries, but sometimes boundaries aren’t enough, especially when you start to blur the lines between flirting and bickering.
Oliver was taking cheap shots at me the entire night, commenting on my outfit, how much I was drinking, and the way I talked. He was starting to get on my nerves, and he liked it. This was a game for him.
“Another drink? I don’t want you puking on my cat, Lydia,” Oliver said loudly as I got up with an empty cup in my hand.
I stuck my tongue out at him, stumbling over a set of legs to get to the kitchen. One of the gang was already asleep on the floor of the living room. I walked to the kitchen, my footsteps heavy on the floor as I tried to walk normally. I was already several drinks in, but I wasn’t slowing down. The more I drank, the more I felt like drinking more. That’s how people get themselves into trouble.
I knew that Oliver had followed me into the kitchen. I could feel the thuds of his feet as he meandered in after me. “Don’t spill anything,” he said as I picked up the cranberry juice and dumped it into my cup.
I rolled my eyes. “I’m pretty sure you’ve had more to drink than I have,” I replied.
A loose smile graced his handsome face as he moved toward me. “I’m also a lot bigger than you are.”
“And?”
“And more powerful,” he grumbled, leaning in closer than he should. “I can hold my liquor better.”
“You want to bet?” I challenged, knowing full well that I would lose any such bet when it came to drinking.
Oliver moved his hand to my waist, running his fingers against the thin fabric of my red dress. He had his eyes on my cleavage the entire night, and I had made it a point to yank down my neckline enough so that he could get a taste of the large globes sitting on my chest.
I was blessed with a big rack, something that men adored and women envied. It wasn’t all a walk in the park, but having large breasts did give me an upper hand in some situations. I felt that this was one of them.
I felt confident enough to play a seductress role and hopefully win some information from Oliver in return. I leaned into him a bit, pressing the side of my hip against his crotch. “Do you like me?” I asked bluntly.
Oliver didn’t flinch. “No.”
I laughed. “Well, that’s not very romantic.”
Oliver pressed himself even closer to me. I could smell the whiskey on his breath as the words danced from his mouth. “I wasn’t trying to be romantic,” he replied, but his actions said otherwise.
“Do you know who Todd is?” I asked, testing to see whether Jordan was his informant.
Oliver was quick to say no. Too quick, in fact, for him to be telling the truth. If he didn’t know about Todd, he would have had to take time to search his brain. Why was Oliver such a damn liar?
“Who is Todd?” Oliver asked, maintaining a casual tone.
“My boyfriend,” I lied, testing him again.
I saw panic in his face at my words. “What?” He said, pulling away from me. “Is that a joke?”
It was nice to watch Oliver squirm, but that wasn’t what I was here to do. I didn’t want to blow my chance to find out what he was up to by convincing him that I was dating someone. He would back off if that was the case, and that’s not what I wanted.
I smiled at him and pulled him back to me. “It was a joke. You seem bothered by it,” I said, my voice resembling velvet. I needed to lure him back into a false sense of security.
Oliver shrugged. “No, just confused. Never seen you with any guys.”
Oliver barely saw me at all around school. How would he know? Alarms were going off in my head left and right, and I was struggling to figure out if I was paranoid like Mia had suggested or if Oliver was keeping an eye on me.
“Can I see your cat?” I asked, changing the subject. “It’s kind of stuffy in here.”
“You’re right. I should probably feed her too,” Oliver said, taking me by the hand and leading me to his bedroom.
I knew that Mia saw me waltz right into the bedroom alone with him again and did nothing. I had warned her about this, but she didn’t stop me. The truth was, I didn’t want her to. Maybe it was the drinks egging me on, but I wanted another taste of Oliver, and I was dying to get it tonight.
As soon as we were in the room, Oliver locked the door. He shoved me against the wall and stared into my eyes
with a look that told me I was in trouble. For a second, I thought he was going to kiss me, but I was mistaken.
“Why are you interrogating me?” Oliver asked angrily, one hand pressing my shoulder against the wall.
“I’m not,” I said.
“Yeah, right. Both you and Mis have been asking me all kinds of questions tonight. I want to know what your deal is?” Oliver growled.
I was equally intimidated and turned on by his sudden aggression. The only thing I should have been was frightened, but my body was reacting differently to his firmness. I melted against the wall, my chest heaving as he bore holes through my head with his piercing blue eyes.
“I’m not doing anything, Oliver. I was just teasing you,” I said, my voice cracking.
Oliver showed his teeth, but he didn’t wear a smile. “You better stop this bullshit, Lydia. It’s not a game. First, Mia starts grilling me about my ex-girlfriend, then you start asking about my work, pretending that you have a boyfriend, and acting like you want to fuck me.”
The way he said fuck sent a surge of excitement through me. I could feel my pulse pounding in my ears. I was turned on and embarrassed by it. I didn’t want him to know that I was into him, but I was doing a poor job of hiding it.
“I didn’t mean to pry. I was just curious,” I said.
He applied more pressure to my shoulder in response. My shoulder blade was digging uncomfortably into the wall. I winced, but Oliver didn’t react to my pain. He didn’t show any sympathy at all, and that cold calculated look that I had seen on his face the night he drove me back home returned.
“You’re in way over your head, Lydia. This isn’t what you think it is,” Oliver said, his voice so quiet that I almost couldn’t hear his words.
I got goosebumps with everything he did to me. I felt stupid, like a doll that he was tossing around, and yet I was enjoying it. He was right that this wasn’t what I thought it was. I didn’t have a clue what was going on in his fucked up head, but I knew that I was attracted to it.