by Alex Grayson
Before I have time to talk myself out of it, I type out a response and immediately hit send without thinking it all the way through.
Me: Fine. One meal. But that’s it.
Oliver: I’ll pick you up at 7. Wear something sexy.
I drop my phone face down onto the bed, my mind reeling.
Wear something sexy?
A nervous knot forms in the pit of my stomach.
What the hell did I just get myself into?
11
OLIVER
“You look beautiful,” I tell the stunning woman in front of me, barely able to get the words out of my suddenly dry mouth. Beautiful doesn’t cut it, but it’s the best I can come up with since my brain has short-circuited.
With her eyes rolling and a scoff coming from her lips, she turns to lock the door. I let my eyes slowly slide down her body. Even while I’ve wanted to strangle her—multiple times—I’ve never been able to deny how goddamn magnificent she looks. Tonight even more so with her hair swept up off her neck, the black sheer shirt over a white camisole, and tight black skirt. My gaze drifts to her feet, and I barely suppress a groan at her black fuck-me heels. The image of her digging those heels into my back as I pound into her is so strong I can almost feel it.
The woman is clearly trying to kill me.
“Hey!” The snap of her fingers in front of my face pulls me from my fantasies. “Eyes up here, buddy.”
My lips tip up into a smirk. “Fine, but I ain’t promising they’ll stay up there. Have you fucking seen what you’re wearing? No man in their right mind couldn’t help but look.”
She huffs, blowing a few pieces of hair from her face. “Don’t make me regret this, Oliver.”
I crowd her against the door, not touching her, but close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from her body. Her intoxicating scent invades my senses. “The only regret either of us will have is if I don’t fuck you mindless at the end of this date.”
“You know what?” She puts her hands on my chest and tries to shove me back. I don’t budge. “What the hell was I thinking when I agreed to go out with you. This was a mistake.”
When she shoves me again, I grab both of her hands and flatten them against my pecs. “Relax, Savannah,” I say gently. “I’m joking, okay? Well, only half joking. You may not regret me not fucking you, but I damn sure will. Sorry, baby, but I’m only human.”
“Whatever,” she mutters. Is it my imagination or did her fingers curl a fraction against my chest? “Just step back so we can go.”
Not wanting to give her another reason to cancel our date, I step back. She eyes me warily for a moment before she tosses her keys into her little black purse and begins sashaying her ass toward the elevator. Shaking my head, I follow behind her like a pathetic dog, my eyes glued to her delectable backside.
Unsurprisingly, she’s quiet in the elevator and on our walk to my car. Being the gentleman that I am, I open the door for her. “My lady.” And because I wouldn’t be Oliver Conley without the dramatics, I add a little flourish with my hand when I gesture to her seat.
She does her eye-roll thing again, but if I’m not mistaken, her lips twitch as she slides into the car. My own lips tip up at the corners as I shut the door and make my way around the car before taking my spot behind the wheel.
I have no idea why I’m trying so hard with Savannah. This afternoon, when I asked her to go out with me, it was an impulse I didn’t realize I followed through with until after I typed out the message and hit send. Though, once the words were out, I wasn’t even the slightest bit tempted to take them back. In fact, when she initially rejected my offer, something heavy like a sledgehammer hit me square in the chest. I really, really wanted her to say yes. It was dumb, given the way she detests me, but after kissing her in my room Thanksgiving night and having her pressed against me in the kitchen earlier today, an uncontrollable need to see her again gripped me. It was like this invisible force was pulling me toward her.
After giving her a sideways glance, I start my car and pull away from the curb.
“I take it Z and Rylee aren’t home?” I ask, just to fill the silence in the small space.
She keeps her eyes pointed at the windshield when she answers. “No, they decided to spend the night at Zayden’s dorm. Thank goodness,” she mutters the last.
“Why ‘thank goodness’?”
“Because the last thing I need is for Rylee to hound me with questions about you and I going out tonight.” She looks over at me, her eyes narrowed. “Speaking of, this date stays between us. I already had to explain the kiss in your room to Rylee because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. Thanks for that, by the way.”
Her words irritate me, when really, they shouldn’t. I can’t blame her for not wanting Rylee to know about our date. Especially since Rylee’s not the type to hold her tongue when it comes to things she cares deeply about. And if there’s one thing I know, Rylee cares a lot for Savannah. I can imagine the inquisition Savannah would go through if Rylee were to know about our date.
Even so, it pisses me off that she wants to keep it a secret, but I keep my feelings to myself. I’ll allow it for now.
The restaurant isn’t far from Savannah’s apartment, so I pull up to the valet only moments later. I toss the keys to the kid parking cars and once again open her door. When I hold out my hand to help her from her seat, she eyes it for a moment like it’s a snake ready to attack before slowly placing her palm in mine. I want to keep hold of her, to lace our fingers together, but once she’s on the sidewalk, she pulls away.
I shrug the rejection off, accepting that it’s going to take time to expunge Savannah’s misgivings toward me. Hey, just having her agree to go out with me is a step in the right direction.
The place I chose to bring her to isn’t super fancy, but it’s not a hole in the wall either. I overheard some of the girls at school talking about a small Italian place with delicious food that gives off a relaxing and ambient vibe. The place is new and has become quite popular.
“Hi, welcome to Angelo’s,” the hostess states when we approach a small podium. “Will it be just the two of you dining tonight?”
“Yes,” I answer.
“Perfect. If you’ll follow me, we’ll get you seated.”
Sliding my hand to the small of Savannah’s back, her eyes move to me. I lift a brow at her questioning look, but she doesn’t say anything, and instead follows the hostess to our booth. Once the hostess walks away, the heat of Savannah’s gaze hits me. She drops her purse on the table with a clunk.
“Okay. What’s up with you?” she demands, her tone no nonsense.
Leaning back with an arm stretched out along the back of the booth, I ask, “What do you mean?”
“Don’t play stupid with me, Oliver. We both know you can’t stand me any more than I can stand you. So, why are you acting like I’m one of your favorite people all of a sudden?”
Before I can answer, the waitress walks up asking for our drink order. I request a bottle of their house wine. She then turns to Savannah. “And for you?”
“I’ll be sharing what he’s having.”
“Could I see your ID, please?”
I snicker quietly at the request. Sensing my amusement, Savannah’s eyes flicker to me and turn to slits. With jerky movements, she snatches her ID out of her purse. A fake one, of course, since I know she’s not twenty-one.
While the waitress looks over the fake driver’s license, Savannah keeps her glare directly at me. I can’t keep the smile from forming on my lips.
“Where’d you get the fake from?” I ask once the waitress walks off.
“I’m sure from the same place you got yours,” she answers.
“How do you know I have one?”
“Doesn’t half the school population?”
I nod. “If not more.”
She slips the ID back in her purse. “Are you going to answer my question from before?”
“Depends.”
&nb
sp; “On what?”
“On if you’ll answer my question on why you agreed to go out with me.”
She takes a moment, but nods tightly.
I sigh and relax in my seat. “Contrary to what you believe, Savannah, I don’t not like you. I only react when you act like a bitch to me.” I hold up my hand when she opens her mouth to speak. “I get it. I know you hate me, and I don’t blame you for it. What I did to Rylee was repulsive, to say the least. You know my reasoning behind my actions, and while it doesn’t excuse the things I did to Rylee, I genuinely thought they were at the time. I was an asshole, and I truly regret what I did. As much as I wish I could take them back, I can’t.”
She doesn’t say anything for several long moments as she fiddles with the white cloth wrapped around her silverware. She’s quiet for so long that the waitress comes back with the wine, and I pour us both a glass. We both pick random things from the menu for our order.
“To be honest, I don’t know why I agreed to go out with you,” she begins, her voice quiet and contemplative. “Call it self-punishment or maybe curiosity. I don’t know what it is. All I know is, and I’m being frank here because you already know this, I don’t like you.” I flinch, but she doesn’t see it because her eyes are still on the napkin. “It’s hard for me to look past what you did to Rylee. You not only hurt her, and while my pain wasn’t anything compared to hers, you hurt me too. I love Rylee like a sister. And because of that, I feel her pain when she’s hurt.”
“Savannah,” I start, but stop when she lifts her eyes. Anger heats their green depths, but there’s more there. Something close to vulnerability. That can’t be right, though. In the short time I’ve known Savannah, she’s never given off the vibe that she’s capable of being vulnerable. She’s one of the strongest women I’ve ever met. Or at least that’s what she exudes.
“That’s only one reason why I hate being around you. As much as seeing your face irritates me, I can’t help the way my body reacts to yours.”
My brows shoot up with her admission. I’ve felt how soft her body becomes when I have her lips against mine and our bodies pressed together, but I never expected her to admit it.
“I abhor that,” she continues, further shocking me. “I hate that you smell good. I hate that you taste good. And I especially hate that no matter how much I try to ignore it and turn it into more hate, I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to be with you.”
I’m sure I look like a fish out of water with my mouth opening and closing, but I’m stunned speechless. What the fuck can I say? I’ve felt what she’s felt. Hated her for the way she constantly spewed nasty comments my way. Wanted to strangle her just to shut her up. But at the same time, wanted to throw her on my bed and fuck every hole she has. The only difference is, her hatred has merit, whereas mine really doesn’t.
The waitress picks that moment to bring our food. I’m thankful for the interruption because it gives me another moment to process. All too soon though, we’re left alone again.
“I never thought I’d see the day where the great Oliver Conley didn’t have something to say,” she comments. Seeing her lips twitching as she fights back a smile has my own lifting at the corners.
“Well, you did kinda surprise me. I mean, I already knew you wanted me,” I toss her a wink, “but I didn’t expect you to admit it so easily.”
She harrumphs. “Don’t expect it to happen again. And don’t think anything will come of it. My body may be interested in yours, but my head screams to stay the fuck away. I’m giving in a little by being here because Rylee wants us to get along, so I’m willing to give it a try.”
I nod, conceding for the moment. I’ll allow her to think our relationship will stay platonic for right now, but make no mistake, we will end up in my bed at some point.
I look down at her food and frown. “What the hell did you order?”
She looks at her plate and her nose wrinkles. “I have no clue, but there’s no way I’m eating that. Just looking at it turns my stomach.”
I take in her features and notice her complexion has gone a shade whiter. Not that I blame her. The shit on her plate looks like green slimy hair. My own stomach flips looking at it.
Unraveling my silverware, I use my napkin and toss it over her food. Picking up her plate, I move it out of the way and push my own to the center of the table.
“We’ll share mine.”
She eyes my food like it isn’t much better than hers. It’s chicken marsala. What’s not to like?
“That’s okay. Suddenly, I’m not very hungry.” Her eyes slide to her covered dish.
I cut off a piece of chicken. “Come on. At least give it a try. I bet you’ll love it.”
Instead of giving her the fork, I hold it up in front of her. Her body language is stiff as her eyes flicker from the chicken, to me, and back again. After a moment, she opens her mouth and leans forward, gingerly taking the meat from my fork. I watch as she chews.
Her eyes close and she lets out a little moan that goes straight to my dick.
“Wow. That is good,” she says, licking the residue from her lips.
“Told you you’d love it.”
I cut another piece and pop it into my mouth, letting the flavors roll around before swallowing. I hold up another piece for Savannah and she accepts it.
“Tell me about your family,” I request after several moments.
“Why?”
“Because I figure since we’re trying this getting along thing, maybe we should get to know each other better.”
She props an elbow on the table and drops her chin in her hand. “Umm…okay. Let’s see. Mom and Dad own a realty company. They’ve had the business since not long after they married. They were high school sweethearts. Got married right after college and had me a couple of years later. Great parents and a wonderful childhood.”
I fork one of the roasted green beans and lift it to Savannah’s lips.
“That must have been nice. Are you close with them?”
“Pretty close. Mom freaks if she doesn’t hear from me at least every other day, so to avoid any meltdowns, I make sure to call often.”
“And your dad?”
A smile lights her face. “I’m a daddy’s girl all the way.”
A pang hits my chest. Growing up, I tried everything I could to get my father to notice me. To love me like all other fathers love their sons. But no matter what I did, it wasn’t good enough. I was never good enough. I stopped trying once I hit high school and realized there was nothing I could do. I’d always be a fucked-up failure in Paul Conley’s eyes.
Forcing those thoughts from my mind, I stab a piece of meat and hold it up for Savannah. She shakes her head. I want to force her to eat more, but I don’t want to piss her off, so I drop the fork to my plate and pick up my glass of wine.
“What about you?”
I raise my brow.
“It’s obvious there’s tension between you and your dad. Has it always been that way?”
I drain the rest of my glass and pour more before I answer.
“My whole life.”
Her brows knit. “That must have been hard.”
I shrug. “When I was younger it was, but I’ve grown not to care what he thinks of me anymore.”
“It’s still a shame. No child should feel unwanted or unloved by a parent.” She runs her finger through the condensation on her glass. “What about your mom?”
I release a sigh and prop my elbows on the table. “My mother was better.” I frown. “Or so I thought.” I lift my eyes to hers. “I’ve thought about her a lot over the last few days, since I found out she cheated on my father—not once, but twice—and I realized something. When my father told me about her cheating, he claimed she was a manipulator, and I can see it now. They were subtle, but I remember the little jabs aimed at my father. She’d tell me things about him, things a boy wouldn’t recognize as influences to turn me against him.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It is what it is. She’s gone and didn’t think it was necessary to tell me. So I say fuck her. And fuck my father. I really don’t give a shit anymore.”
I decide to change the subject, because this shit is depressing, and I really don’t want to think about it anymore. Especially while out with Savannah. We talk about school and Savannah’s job at the coffee shop for about thirty minutes before I hand over my credit card to the waitress.
Way too soon for my liking, I’m parking in front of Savannah’s apartment. It’s been strange, this date. I’ve taken girls out before, but I’ve never dreaded a date ending as much as I’m dreading Savannah walking away from me. Especially since she’s acted the complete opposite of how she normally acts around me.
Milking every second I can with her, I open my door and walk around to open hers.
“I’m not inviting you in, you know,” she states, her eyes sliding to me as we ride the elevator up to the fourth floor.
“I’m not asking you to,” I retort. “I’m just walking you to your door like a gentleman would.”
She snorts. “Have you ever acted like a gentleman a day in your life?”
“There’s a first time for everything, isn’t there?” I grin.
“Seems like there’s a lot of firsts coming from you tonight.”
I hold my arm out for her to walk off the elevator first. “I could say the same about you.”
She sucks her teeth and shakes her head but doesn’t say anything further. Her keys are already in her hand when we stop outside her door. Before she opens it, she turns to face me.
“As surprised as I am to say this, I actually had a good time tonight.”
“I did too.”
My gaze gets stuck on her lips when her tongue peeks out to lick the bottom one.