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I’ve never had a hard time attracting men. I usually date as much as I want to. It’s all in the attitude. Confidence is attractive to the opposite sex. So is attaining someone who challenges them. It’s all a big game, but one that I’ve learned how to navigate over the years.
Johnny is not my typical type. Even so, it could be fun to go out with a musician and have a fling for the summer. But for some reason, when Johnny asked for my number, the first face that flashed in my head was … Ollie’s. And I’m not sure when exactly it was that my best friend’s brother became an obstacle in my dating life.
I glance to the front to see Ollie entertaining a blonde. She has her hand wrapped around his bicep and is smiling up at him like he’s the only man in the room. I don’t like the way my stomach twists when I see him gracing her with that sexy smirk in return. Maybe going out with the rocker will be a good distraction from all this weirdness that keeps developing between Ollie and me. Maybe it will put things back into perspective.
“It’s sweltering in here,” I complain, fanning my shirt to circulate some air.
Our uniforms are simple. It’s basically a black V-neck T-shirt with the bar’s logo across the front in red. We can wear jeans, skirts, or shorts on the bottom. I opted for a jean skirt tonight.
“Take your break,” she suggests. “Go get some air.”
“Okay,” I say, setting my water back in its hiding place and glancing at my tables. “I’ll be right back.”
The band starts playing again, and the music trails me down the hall and out into the alleyway. I prop the door open behind me and lean against the brick wall. The breeze is nice as it drifts across my neck. The alleyway is quiet, and the lighting is dim back here. I can still hear Johnny’s silky, smooth voice as the band starts a new song, but it’s muted now.
I turn when the metal door swings open again. I’m surprised when Ollie appears. I lean my head back and angle my eyes to the dark sky, feigning nonchalance even though every cell in my body is hyperaware of him. I focus on the few stars that I can see past the lights of the town. Ollie leans against the wall next to me. The heat radiating from his body warms my side.
“So, does this mean you aren’t avoiding me anymore?” I murmur.
He stiffens. “I haven’t been avoiding you.”
I shift my eyes to his face and give him an incredulous look as I scoff. “Okay, Ollie. Whatever you say.”
He exhales long and hard. A few beats pass by. I hear his mind churning in the silence.
“I’ve just been busy, Mads. My training schedule is brutal.”
I roll my eyes, but don’t reply. I’m not used to Ollie making up BS excuses, not with me. He’s usually so up front, even when it’s uncomfortable. He’s never had this problem in the past, saying something that he knows will piss me off. I don’t particularly like this passive, hidden side of him.
“It’s true,” he insists. He sounds like a sullen man-child.
A couple walks by at the end of the alleyway. Their laughter rings out through the nighttime air.
“Thanks for the coffee,” I say after a moment of hesitation.
“No problem.”
I want to ask him if he’s been making a special trip to the café for me most mornings. I want to know why he’s going out of his way to get me something that I love and if he buys himself anything. But I don’t ask. Instead, the moment extends until it’s almost uncomfortable.
“Do you want me to move out?” I finally blurt out. I hold my breath as I wait for his answer.
Say no. Say no.
I don’t know when things got so twisted between us or why. If I knew the answer, I’d fix it. What started out as a simple gesture of goodwill—me wanting to wash his Bronco as a show of gratitude for him taking me in—turned into an awkward encounter between two longtime friends. And now, we’re here, in this off-balance place. As much as I’d hate to be forced to stay somewhere else—or worse, go home—I feel like Ollie regrets offering me a place to lay my head. And I don’t want to be a drain on him. I won’t be an imposition. He shouldn’t have to avoid his apartment just because I’m there. And I shouldn’t be uneasy about staying.
“No,” he answers almost immediately. He sounds mad again, like I’ve insulted him by asking that.
I swivel my head until my gaze is centered on the side of his face. His eyes are on the ground.
“Well, what do you expect me to think?” I demand. “You’ve barely been home this week. You come in late and leave early …” My voice fades as I let the accusations sink in. “It’s your place, Ollie. Not mine. If you’re uncomfortable with me being there, just say so. I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”
“I’m not uncomfortable,” he grumbles.
So, he wants me to stay, but he obviously doesn’t want to be around me. He’s either a martyr or in denial about something. Either way, he’s confusing me. And I’m tired of it.
My temper rolls from a simmer into a boil. I want to snap him out of whatever mood he’s in so we can go back to normal.
I impulsively grab my boobs and lift them to shock him. My cleavage deepens in the V of my shirt. “They’re tits, Ollie! Boobs. I have them. Most women here have them.”
