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“I’ll come with you,” Oakley insists from somewhere behind me.
“No … stay.” I shake my head, walking backward so I can see her while moving farther away. I need a moment alone to clear the chaos from my mind. “I’ll be right back.”
Oakley frowns as she watches me go, but she doesn’t follow me.
I’m a mess of tattered nerves as I weave through the dense crowd. I get swallowed up by the masses, and the invisibility feels nice. I’m not sure when my emotions decided to take over, but they did so without my consent, and now, they are in full control as I stalk toward the area where we bought drinks a short time ago. I can hear Johnny’s baritone voice, smooth and clear as he sings one of their original songs behind me.
“Madison!” Ollie shouts.
I ignore him, walking faster to create more space between us. I’m mad at Ollie even though I know it’s irrational to feel that way. He hasn’t done anything wrong. But something has shifted inside of me. I feel weak and small, and I blame the hockey stud for causing my insecurities.
I’m not a timid woman, filled with self-doubt. I’m Madison motherfucking Reynolds. I’m an independent, secure female who is confident standing on her own two feet. I don’t need anyone, least of all a man. I don’t need Ollie to feel good about myself.
A strong hand wraps around my upper arm and turns me before I reach the drink stand. His touch burns into my skin while I’m holding on to my pride like a grudge.
Ollie, the man who’s always in complete control, is a self-contained version of pissed right now.
Good. So am I.
Well … I’m pissed, but far from self-controlled.
“I know you heard me calling you,” he accuses.
“I did,” I say arrogantly, meeting his hard stare with one of my own.
“Why didn’t you wait?”
“I don’t need a babysitter, Ollie,” I spit out defiantly.
I attempt to shrug out of his hold, but he won’t let go.
“What are you so pissed about?” he demands. His penetrating eyes stare back at me. “Is this about Dallas? You know I’m not interested in her.”
I look away because I’m irritated by the sight of his handsome face. And I’m even more annoyed at myself for the unreasonable way I’m feeling. It would be simpler if this was about a woman, about Dallas. That would make it cut and dry. But it’s not really about her. It’s about the unease that Ollie is stirring within me. It’s about feeling too much and giving a person power over my emotions. He could flatten me with a look. He already has. I didn’t realize how high the stakes got when I wasn’t even looking.
He’s still gripping my arm firmly, but not so hard that he’s hurting me. But he won’t let me run. He won’t allow the space I need right now to gather my wits, collect my thoughts, and build my walls. I don’t understand how I’m feeling or how I got here in the first place. And I’d normally ask Oakley for advice, but I can’t go to my best friend with this.
“Talk to me,” Ollie demands, but his voice is softer than a moment ago.
“I can’t,” I murmur. I can’t even look at him right now.
He tips my chin until our eyes connect. He’s searching both of mine, looking for answers. “It’s cute that you think you can pretend with me.”
Frustration draws my features tight. I want to be irritated by the arrogant smirk on his face or the fact that he thinks he knows me so well. But I can’t be. I feel myself softening instead, which is infuriating.
“What’s wrong, Mads?”
There are dozens of people surrounding us. We’ve been bumped once or twice while standing here amid the stirring crowd. But somehow, it seems like it’s just Ollie and me under the stars, in our own little cocoon. I can’t see past him when he’s standing this close and staring at me like this.
His gaze drops to my lips, and when I don’t answer, he leans closer until his mouth molds to mine in a sweet kiss. His familiar taste and touch comfort me and ease the chaos in my head.
“I don’t want her.” His whispered words skate across my lips, where we’re still pressed together.
“I know,” I whisper back.
“What is it then?”
I shake my head slowly with my eyes closed. I don’t know how to put into words how I’m feeling. I don’t know how to say that something has shifted between us. Or that I’m confused by the thoughts I’m having. How much I’m feeling. But somehow, I think he knows. The vulnerability oozes from my pores until I think it might drown us both.
