by J. Saman
Landon called me last night and informed me that Stella had already invited Layla over for the night. I told him that with everything going on with his mom, that I would take the girls instead, but he told me it would be a nice distraction having them around, so I relented.
But with everything going on right now, I’m not sure how close I should be getting with his family.
“Let me rephrase,” she says, grabbing my arm and tugging me along with her. “We’re going to my place, changing our clothes, opening a bottle of wine as we do, and then going out. No arguments. You’re coming. I’m meeting Margot, Halle, and Aria at The Hill and I know they’re going to want to see you.”
***
An hour later, we stagger into The Hill. And when I say we, it’s really more me. Rina opened a bottle of wine as she said she would and poured me two-thirds of it. Then she proceeded to style me all up with hair and makeup and clothing and heels—heels that no sane human would ever wear. Oliver texted that he was out with Carter and that he was fine.
That was it.
We’ve officially hit the strained stage of this arrangement. And it’s my fault because I freaked out. I’ve been telling myself it’s the way it has to be, but it has my insides twisting up all the same. I told him from the start that intimacy confuses things. I told him I don’t do one-night stands or meaningless sex.
So what the fuck, Oliver? What game are you playing with me?
I will fall for him and then what will he do?
“Oh, good, they’re already here.” Rina points to a booth along the back wall. Halle Hughes, who is married to Jonah, Oliver’s boss, Aria Davenport who is the sister of Rina’s boyfriend, Brecken, and Margot Cady, an ED nurse, are waiting on us. They all stand up, hugging me, and then Rina, asking a million questions about her mom.
Rina fills them in as she goes about ordering a round of cocktails for the table, telling everyone tonight is all on her. I don’t know if she’s doing this for me because she knows I can’t afford it—cue the embarrassment—or if because she means it when she says it’s good Karma and she needs all she can get with her mom.
All I know is that trays of food and drinks are delivered, and we’re all digging in with gusto, toasting to Rina’s mom as we go. By the time we’re finished with our first round and Rina is ordering the second, I’m rocking a serious buzz.
It’s also when Aria gets a wicked gleam in her blue eyes. “Tells us how being engaged to the fabulous Oliver Fritz is going.”
They all know it’s fake. In fact, the only people who don’t seem to know it’s fake are Oliver’s parents, my boss, and the media.
“Fine,” I lie, trying to hide it by taking another sip of my martini that is flowing like water down my throat. Who knew alcohol could taste this delicious while destroying the brain cells I didn’t really want to use tonight anyway?
They must read it instantly because Margot says, “Uh oh. What happened?”
“Nothing,” only it comes out as a squeak. Kinda high-pitched. A bit slurred.
Halle snorts. “Right. You do realize we all know Oliver. That’s his sister—” she points to Rina “—and I work with him, so you’re not fooling any of us.”
“Sure, I am,” I argue. “In case you’ve missed the last two weeks of my life, I’ve become an impeccable liar.”
“Not so much,” Rina chimes in, attempting to nudge my shoulder only to miss and fall into the table, nearly spilling all our drinks. Clearly, I’m not the only one drunk here tonight. She straightens up, rolling her eyes at herself. “Now spill it. Since I nearly just did.”
“Um. I’m not sure I should.”
“Oh my god!” Aria points to me. “You’re blushing. Like harder than Halle ever blushes, and the girl makes a tomato look like an onion.” She shakes her head. “Did that make sense?”
“It did,” Halle grumbles. “And thanks. But she’s still right. You are blushing worse than I do. From one redhead to another, we can’t hide anything, so it’s best to let the alcohol do the work for you and tell us everything.”
They’re right. My face is a fireball of embarrassment. “But…” I bob my head in Rina’s direction, pointing at her in case they miss my not-so-subtle hint. “That’s his sister and the things I need to say are not PG-rated.”
“Oh, please,” Margot admonishes, waving me away. “I’m engaged to Aria’s ex. Rina is dating Aria’s brother. Halle is married to her boss. We obviously have no limits here, so just tell us, because now we have to know. Especially the non-PG stuff.”
“Wow,” I muse, staring at each of them. “You guys are more of a mess than I am.”
Rina shakes her head at me, lifting a chip and popping it in her mouth, talking as she crunches. “I seriously doubt that. You’re fake engaged to my brother, Dr. Scandalous Nurseizer himself. That should legit be his full name, and I’ve heard it all before when it comes to him. He’s a talker. Anything you tell us that makes me want to throw up and cut off my ears I’ll just pretend is about someone else.”
I meet her eyes. “You sure?”
“Yes,” Aria answers for her. “She’s fucking sure. Now tell us and I want all the romance book drama.”
“I’m a disaster,” I admit, sagging back against the booth as the words tumble from my lips without restraint. “This whole thing is messing me up so bad. I’m sleeping like shit. Having trouble eating. I’m a ball of nerves. I have no idea what’s real and what’s not anymore. Oliver and I go out and it’s great. But is it great because we’re clicking as friends? Because we’re doing this all for show? Or because something else is actually going on? The media takes all these pictures of us, and they print all these things about me, about us, and my boss goes and says shit. And I’m so confused. Did I already say that?” I scrunch my brows together, unable to remember, before getting over it just as quickly. “Anyway, I really like Oliver. Like a lot and I’m trying so hard not to because he’s fucking Oliver, right? I mean, what you said.” I point to Rina. “He’s Dr. Scandalous. The man who plows through nurses and women like he’s playing a game of beat the clock. But then he said some stuff I can’t get out of my head and yesterday he pinned me down on his childhood bed and whispered the dirtiest things anyone has ever said to me and got me so hot and bothered I nearly forgot about my rule of no sex. Luckily my sister knocked on the door, interrupting us and saving me from making a huge mistake.”
I finish my rant, slightly out of breath and even more upset than when I first started only to find three sets of wide eyes pinned on me, mouths agape, slightly horrified like I just told them they canceled Bridgerton before season two comes out.
Rina is the first to snap out of it, taking a hefty sip of her drink. “I think you need to tell him everything you just told us.”
I shake my head. “I can’t do that. Because then he’ll know I like him and tell me I’m crazy and that it’s just some fun he was trying to have. Just how our night after the reunion was only meant to be fun. Oliver flirts. He fucks. He moves on. I can’t do that because I won’t be able to move on the way he will. It’s like my heart is intricately linked to my vagina. Once it’s penetrated, that’s it and both end up getting fucked.”
Margot points at me while staring at Rina. “Did you know she was like this? Like one of us?”
Rina snorts out, stuffing her face with more chips. “Obviously. Why do you think I had her to my dinner party Wednesday?”
“God, I was so like this with Jonah it’s crazy,” Halle says, her finger running along the rim of her drink. “We had our one-night and then tried to resist, but there was no resisting because we were too hot for each other. You and Oliver are like that. Ready to rip each other’s clothes off and hump like bunnies. Not much you can do to stop that once that train gets going.”
“Okay,” Rina says with an exaggerated gag. “I know I said I’d pretend we weren’t talking about my brother, but I think just threw up in my mouth.”
“Sorry,” I grumble sheepishly.
>
“Don’t apologize,” Aria demands, tapping her nails on the table. “She’s done way worse to me about Breck. But Rina is right. You do need to talk to him. It sounds like the feeling might be more mutual than you think.”
“He’s told me he never wants to put himself out there again after what his ex did to him. I’m just setting myself up for the fall if I do that.”
“I don’t know about that,” Halle muses. “I work with him. I see him three days a week and he’s a different man since you came along. He doesn’t flirt with anyone. He doesn’t look at any of the nurses. None. And it’s not even like he’s playing a part. It’s like he doesn’t even see them anymore. Other women no longer register. I’m not the only one who has noticed it either. Trust me, it’s all the nurses talk about. He also bitched out his ex about you when she came to see him at work.”
“What?” I cry out. “Nora came to see him?”
“Yep. On Monday. You could hear him throughout the halls. Then he stormed out of the room, slamming doors, and scaring the crap out of all of us. Oliver never loses his cool like that. She was saying shit about you, and he lost his mind on her. We could all hear it. Unfortunately, the walls are paper-thin, and they weren’t exactly quiet.”
Monday. That’s when I was ghosting him. And Nora came to see him? I can’t believe he yelled at her like that. About me. My heart starts to race around my chest, clumsily bumping into my lungs and making it hard to breathe. The things he said to me… could he actually—
“You need to go talk to him,” Margot jumps in, cutting off my train of thought. “Like now. This minute. No more putting it off. In fact, I’m ordering you an Uber.”
“No!” I exclaim.
“Yes,” the others chirp in response, excitement carrying in their voices. “Go to his place. Ask him what’s up and then spend the night with him,” Halle finishes.
“Here.” Aria pushes the remains of my martini closer to me. “Finish that up and then go give that hot doc a piece of your mind. No more games. No more messing around. Time he learned how to be a grown-ass man.”
I swivel to find Rina, my body already shaking with nerves as I attempt to build myself up to what they’re saying. What I know I’m risking by doing this. My heart won’t survive Oliver breaking it. It’s already too damaged. Too scarred.
She nods at me, dropping her hand onto my shoulder and squeezing. “They’re right. You need to go and figure this out. It’s time Oliver gets over what happened with Nora. That was years ago and you’re not her. You’re nothing like her. Just don’t break his heart, okay? He’d never survive that happening to him twice.”
Wasn’t I just thinking the exact same thing about myself?
God, am I actually considering this? Going to his place at this hour and telling him how I really feel?
And what if he doesn’t feel the same way back? What if they’re wrong about all this?
I lift the remains of my martini, down it in one swift move, and slam the glass down on the table before wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. I guess there’s only one way to find out.
19
OLIVER
After the day I’ve had, I’m in no fucking mood for this. For the incessant banging on my door, that can only be Carter on the other side. No one else would continue to bang, bang, bang, despite my not answering. It’s midnight dickwad, and I don’t want to hear any more. He berated me all through dinner and drinks about Amelia. So did my other asshole brothers.
About how I should leave her alone. Stop pressing her physically. Keep our relationship purely platonic and distant so this arrangement stays clean and uncomplicated.
“She’s essentially a single mom,” Carter had said. “And you don’t fuck around with single moms. You respect them enough to do the right thing by them.”
I hated every word. Because he was right. I should back off Amelia. I should let her be. And until I figure out exactly how to do that, I’m keeping my distance from her. But that doesn’t mean I want to.
So, yeah. No. I don’t want to answer the door for round two.
“Go away, asshole,” I yell through the door.
The banging instantly stops. Then I hear someone clear their throat. Only that doesn’t sound like Carter.
“Sorry,” the soft female voice says. “Your doorman just told me to knock and ring until you opened the door. Said that with a place as big as yours, you might not hear me.” Then I hear her breath hitch. “I didn’t ring the bell though.” Her slurred words crack on that last part like she’s about to break into tears.
Dammit. What the hell are you doing here, Amelia?
I swing the door open to find her pressed against the doorframe, her eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot with smears of mascara beneath. More of her hair frames her face than is held back in her low ponytail. Her ill-fitting blouse hangs limply off one shoulder and she’s holding her heels in her hand like her feet hurt too much to wear them.
She looks so small like this. So nervous and unsure of herself. So fucking pretty my chest clenches. And it’s like everything my brothers said tonight, everything I resolved to do where Amelia is concerned, just zapped right out of my brain.
She’s here.
“Hi,” I say, fighting my grin. She’s drunk. If I couldn’t tell by her appearance, I can smell whatever sweet concoction she’s been drinking on her breath.
She sighs. She also still hasn’t looked at me. “Hi,” she says to my hardwood floor. “I don’t know what I’m doing here.”
You wanted to see me, that’s what. Warmth trickles through my veins.
“Your sister and her friends put me in an Uber. They told me to come here and talk to you. I listened because it seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“Do you want to come in then?”
“Do you think I should?” She tilts her head as if she’s actually considering this as a question. Her eyes make a trail up my body, starting at my bare feet, trickling along my legs, over my boxer briefs where my dick is starting to harden, up along my abs and chest. All the way up to my face. “You’re naked!” she gasps, pinching her eyes shut, and shaking her head so fast she nearly topples over from making herself dizzy. “I mean, you’re like that.” She points blindly, waving her hand in my general direction. “I can’t talk to you when you’re like that!”
I can’t resist. “Like what?”
“You have abs. So many hard abs. Like six of them. And your transverse abdominis. That’s there too. But they’re super muscular and indented. And of course. You know. What’s lower and in between them.”
I chuckle, no longer able to hold it back. “What’s lower and in between my super muscular and indented transverse abdominis?”
She blushes more than she was even two seconds ago, her eyes still closed as she gnaws on her lips. But she folds her arms now, trying for indignant. “You know what’s there. You don’t need me to tell you.”
“Oh no, baby. I think I do.”
Her eyes flash open, staring directly at the appendage in question that is very happy to see her before snapping up to mine. “This was stupid. I… I’m going now. Sorry to have bothered you.”
She starts to turn on wobbly legs, heading for the elevator when I reach out and grab her hand, stopping her. “I can’t let you do that. You’re drunk. Come inside and I’ll make you some coffee and we’ll talk. I’ll go put on pants if that will make you feel better.”
I hear her swallow, her back to me. “And a shirt. You need a shirt too.”
Fuck, she’s adorable. “And a shirt. Just don’t go. Come in and stay.” Stay forever, I think and shake it off, tugging her in and locking the door behind her in case she gets any crazy ideas like running out on me again.
With this one, I wouldn’t put anything past her.
I take her hand and lead her to the kitchen, sitting her on one of the barstools, making sure she’s steady because damn, she’s drunk. She drops the heels to the floor with a heavy clunk, resting her face i
n her hands. Her eyes, so very wary, are following me.
I quickly grab her a glass of water and set it in front of her. She lifts it, taking a slow sip, all the while staring at me like she’s not sure what to do or say next. Never did I expect Amelia to show up here tonight, but I’m sure as hell not complaining.
I missed her today.
Today was rough. It was terrifying.
And what I wanted was her there with me.
I’m scared about my mom. About what’s going to happen with her. I had my family there, but they’re not the same as Amelia. Just being near her makes my heart slow down and speed up. My mind relax and race. She both calms and excites me. Such a fascinating dichotomy that works so effortlessly it’s almost preternatural. A high I feed off of and needed today to get me through when there were moments I wasn’t sure I could.
I crouch to meet her eyes. “I’m going to change. You okay for a minute?”
She nods slowly, her eyes turning that smoky gray. That color they get when she’s turned on.
“Are you going to stay?”
“That’s why I’m here.”
I smirk impishly. “I thought you were here to talk.”
Her eyes hold mine as she says, “That too.” And those words just went straight to my dick. Because there was so much suggestion in her low, raspy voice. Only she’s drunk. And I won’t let her do something I know for a fact she’ll regret tomorrow in the light of day. I pushed her hard on my bed yesterday and then she pulled away from me completely.
“I’ll be right back.”
Bare feet slap loudly against the floor as I jog to my room, flipping on the light and grabbing the T-shirt and gray sweatpants I have still sitting out on the bench at the foot of my bed. I throw them on at lightspeed and then race back out to Amelia, whose head is now down, resting on the stone countertop.
I slow my pace, taking her in as I approach, running my fingers down her long, silky red hair, gently removing the elastic as I do. She’s out. Head draped over one slacken arm, breathing heavily, and already drooling a little.