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He stops midstride, and a gleam appears in his eye as he looks at me. “You called me Olly?”
I didn’t even realize I’d done so. Is that even a big deal? I’d heard Lana say it, and I guess, if I’m honest with myself, we had formed somewhat of a friendship warranting nickname calling. He often referred to me as Gabs which I loathe.
“Yeah,” I stumble out. “I guess everyone calls you that.”
“You’re not everyone,” he murmurs, staring deeply.
I’m drawn to his eyes, almost emerald, reflecting with the aid of the sun. It’s more than just the color, there’s something deep about the way it makes me feel—pure, with a sense of hope and protection, and a feeling of completion.
I’m torn between whatever it is that’s holding me in this position, stilling my movements yet accelerating my heartbeat. How could something so simple, the weight of a man’s stare, especially a man who you despised only a week ago, evoke so much emotion?
Shaking my head, I break the hold and switch my focus on the direction in front of us. We’re only a block away from home when I notice the familiar beachside homes lined up the small hill.
“I’m drenched. I really need to head home and take a shower.”
The minute I say it, I cringe at my choice of words. Really? I’m such an idiot. Often, I wonder how I even adult. Oliver won’t let this one slide, that much I know. He has a response to everything, and his maturity level dwindles to gutter level whenever I open my big, fat mouth and say something stupid to provoke him.
Oliver smirks. “Do you need help? I’m an expert in the shower.”
“I bet you are.” I laugh, knocking his arm playfully. “I think I got it covered. I may not have many skills, but in showering, I could probably get an A-plus.”
“We need to stop talking about you showering… these shorts leave nothing to the imagination.”
I look down, and beneath his black shorts, I can see the outline of his manhood.
Turn away now. No good will come of this.
He looks hung.
Jesus, did you say that out loud?
Oh my God, I scan his face, but nothing changes, so it doesn’t appear I’ve said it out loud. My mouth curves upward into a smile, followed by an obnoxious laugh, unable to control the delirium inside me from the heat and exhaustion.
“Okay, time to calm down, buddy,” he whistles, releasing a breath. “I’ll race you back to the house. In fact, I’ll give you a five-minute head start.”
“And the winner gets what?”
“Whatever they want.”
“With you and your buddy. That’s dangerous. Be more specific.”
“Fine, I’ll take you out somewhere tonight.”
“More details…”
“A place that will relax you. Somewhere nice.”
I don’t even listen to another word, gaining a head start. My calculations show only ten minutes to home, and on the last stretch where I’ve got him beat. Then he comes out of nowhere, jogging past me with his head held high, even turning around so he’s running backward and waits for me at the gate without a single sweat and sporting a victorious grin.
A surge of adrenaline pushes me, my legs moving harder, counting down the steps until I reach the end. When I pull up at the front of my house, I almost collapse, falling into his body, unable to catch my breath. My panting doesn’t dwindle, and my rapid heartbeat restricts the airflow to my lungs which feel like they are going to explode any minute.
“Aw… c’mon, Gabs, now tell me that was fun.”
I can’t even talk.
The exertion brings on more breathlessness as if the air around me is devoid of oxygen. My ribs heave up and down, but nothing comes. Everything begins to spin. I don’t even care that he’s still holding onto me. I’m ready to die at this moment. The intensity is about to kill me.
“You are evil.” I choke, gulping for air.
