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His eyes dart to mine and narrow as soon as I say the word tits. His gaze drops to my chest, where my hands are gripping my flesh, and stays, just like that day at the car wash.
“I’m sorry my tank top got wet that day. I’m sorry it was white and that it was practically see-through.” I drop my breasts, and Ollie’s stare pulls to my face. “But it wasn’t on purpose. And I don’t understand why you’re taking it as some personal insult or why things are suddenly so awkward between us. You know what? I take that back. I’m not sorry about it. I did nothing wrong.”
A few seconds go by as I stand there and challenge him. Ollie’s eyes flit between both of mine like his brain is working in overdrive. His expression is stoic and unreadable, but intense. His hands are flexing and relaxing at his sides as he tries to maintain control. Time seemingly stands still.
Suddenly, the space between us shrinks. He shifts without a word until he’s standing right in front of me. Ollie grips my upper arms and pulls me forward. We’re chest to chest. My soft curves that have caused tension between us the past few days mold into his hard angles, like a puzzle when you find that perfect piece. My breath is stolen by the unexpected move. Ollie’s eyes drop to my mouth.
Before I have time to think … his lips crash into mine. And then we’re kissing.
It takes me a moment to react when I feel the warmth of his minty breath on my lips. His touch is light and searching at first, but then he comes back for more, and his lips are firmer, surer the second time. I gasp, and his tongue enters my mouth. He tastes like beer and toothpaste. The aggressive way he’s now attacking my lips is the opposite of a platonic, brotherly touch. It’s hot. Explosive. I can feel the warmth smoldering in my stomach as I sink further into his sculpted body.
His hands are gripping my waist, pulling me further against him, like he doesn’t want any space between us. My fingers are in his thick hair. It’s soft and such a silky contrast to his hard frame and chiseled jaw. I moan. He bites my lower lip and tugs. Then, he soothes it with a lick. I deepen the kiss. I can’t get close enough.
Ollie’s like a drug. One taste, and I’m instantly obsessed. I’m drowning in his spicy, clean scent. His unique flavor. My mind is completely scrambled, unable to catch up to what’s happening.
But everything about this moment somehow feels right.
My tongue slides along his again. We’re breathing the same air. My pulse is racing, and his heart is pounding against my chest. I’m desperate and needy. He’s hard when I line our hips up and grind into him. I’m one second from losing my mind completely when his strong hands land on my upper arms again, and just as quickly as it began, there’s unwanted space between our bodies. His eyes are wild, and his pupils are blown when I meet his gaze. He looks unhinged, and it’s exactly how I feel. We’re both breathing hard.
But in the next moment, he pushes farther away. Before I can react, we’re completely disconnected, and I’m watching his back disappear through the door. My skin is still tingling where he touched me.
I’m alone again. The breeze is no longer enough to cool me down. My body is on fire. And I’m not sure what the hell just happened.
I slump against the brick. My legs can barely hold me up. If it wasn’t for my pounding pulse and my heaving breaths, I’d think I imagined the whole thing. I bring my fingertip to my swollen lower lip, but I don’t touch it. I don’t want to brush Ollie off my mouth. I can still feel him on my skin.
It takes another five minutes before my pulse normalizes, but my head is still spinning. This feeling is foreign. I’m used to having the upper hand with men. I usually care less, which gives me an edge, satisfying my messed-up daddy issue ways. But this is Ollie. I’ve known him for most of my life. We’ve been friends for as long as my memory will stretch. He protects me. He watches out for me. He gave me a safe place to go when I needed help. I’ve leaned on his broad shoulder more times than I can count. I know the smell of his skin and hair. I know the feel of his mattress and the thread count of his sheets. I’ve witnessed the five different types of smiles he has over and over again.
As much as I’ve admired Ollie’s hot body and killer good looks across the years, I never let myself think there could be something between us other than friendship. Oakley’s my girl. I’m his little sister’s best friend. Ollie’s always been so resolved, so in control. I never thought he’d see me in any other way.
But a few minutes ago, he was anything but controlled. He was messy and passionate. Uninhibited. Ollie let his emotions take the lead, and he took what he wanted. It’s a side of him I’ve never seen before. I never even knew it existed. And now, I’m jealous of his conquests in a way I never was in the past. Because I realize they’ve experienced the unleashed form of Ollie that he hides from the rest of the world.
And when I reenter the bar, I try not to acknowledge the pain in my chest when I notice that Ollie is surrounded by puck bunnies again. They’re touching his arm and the same chest I was just pressed against. They’re flirting with him, and he’s smiling back like nothing monumental just happened. I don’t want to watch him walk out the front door tonight with a woman on his arm. I don’t want to imagine him touching her, getting naked with her. I won’t be able to stand it.
For the first time, an unfamiliar emotion takes over. It takes me a moment to identify the feeling. Jealousy. I’m so jealous and unbalanced that I can’t see straight. I try to force myself to focus on work anyway.
Ollie and I don’t speak again. We barely spoke in the alleyway. He keeps at least a dozen people between us for the rest of his time at Cheerz. It’s a new type of torture for him to remain in my space, but far enough away to stay untouchable. I can’t leave. He could. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t glance in my direction either though, and I know because I’m stealing looks at him every chance I get.
Twenty minutes pass before I’m watching Ollie walk out the door without a word. And when I go home at the end of the night … he isn’t there.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
OLLIE
There are moments that change everything. I had one of those moments last night.
I went to Cheerz for one reason … to see Madison. I didn’t care about the band that was playing there. I had no interest in the groupies I knew we would find. I’d suggested the bar to the guys that afternoon, and we showed up that evening so I could check up on my temporary roommate. I wanted to watch her work. To see her from a safe distance. To make sure she was okay. The more time that had elapsed without us talking or seeing each other, the more awkward things became. I wanted to break the ice that had formed, but with dozens of strangers present as a buffer.
I not only broke the ice … I obliterated it.
The first thing I had seen when I walked into the place was Madison behind the bar. She was wearing a tight-ass black shirt and a short jean skirt that did nothing to hide her mile-long legs. It was the same uniform every woman employed at the bar was wearing, but it looked different on her. Better. Sexier. Her long blonde hair was pulled into a ponytail, and her lips were pulled into a frown as she attempted to conquer the computer system. I smiled while watching her. She looked so cute as she pouted her way through work. But that was before she was approached by the lead singer of the band that was playing. The Kurt Cobain wannabe with his straggly, bleached hair and ripped jeans. He walked up, and her entire demeanor shifted. As I watched, my smile dimmed before dropping altogether. He was flirting with her. He was getting her number. He probably asked her out. And worse, she was flirting back. Her head was tilted, and her eyes were narrowed in that alluring way of hers. She was inviting him in. She was smiling at him in a way she hadn’t looked at me for days. Maybe ever.
This went way beyond my normal protectiveness. I was like a hunter stalking his prey from across the room while she was oblivious to my presence. Or a jealous boyfriend looking to stake his claim. I ached to get my hands on her. To make her forget all about him. And when I saw her walk to the alleyway, I followed even though I knew I shouldn’t. I wasn’t in the right state of mind to be alone with her, but I didn’t care. I went anyway.
I lied when I said I wasn’t avoiding her. We both knew I was lying, but I decided to die on that hill anyway. Admit nothing.
Madison pushes me. She always has. When I’m around her, my temper is boiling one second, and I’m laughing the next.
Last night, she had me on my knees.
