The Best Mistakes (The Amherst Sinners Series Book 3)

by Elena Monroe

  I knew that’s what everyone called me: “Another girl that Oliver broke the heart of.”

  No one expected this slump to last this long. If I’m being honest, neither did I.

  We were short-handed, not untypical. Hiring was a nightmare process I always tried to avoid, though, so I let Savannah be tardy and shoot me texts at four a.m. to tell me she would be late… or not coming in at all. She was the new version of B—yearning for attention, self-absorbed, and not comfortable being anything else. I was always slightly nostalgic, making it hard to reprimand her.

  I hadn’t even spoken to B since freshman year. She was right about Oliver and I working out. I wasn’t going to give her a chance to gloat by reconnecting.

  I only had a four-hour shift on Saturdays, unless there was an event later that night. This Saturday, my afternoon was already spoken for: Liz was dragging me to this bar to hear a cover band on her list of possible music choices. As much as I dragged my feet, I really didn’t mind. It was her wedding, and she deserved a happy ending.

  All the Sinners did.

  I worked the register, drinking my coffee between ringing people out, until Savannah dragged herself in late to take over. She was a social media unicorn with half a million followers, and she only worked at the bookstore because her parents made having a real job a condition of paying her rent. We were all painfully aware that she wasn’t there by choice. I couldn’t be too hard on her. She posted about the bookstore, and that alone was marketing that our revenue couldn’t support to outsource.

  I pulled the next stack of books towards me without looking up and punched in the prices on the screen.

  Alice in Wonderland, Jane Eyre, Jekyll and Hyde, Brave New World, The Tempest… all of them were books I had heard referenced so many times in college. They were books I called my favorites, all in one neat stack. I looked up with the total, and I felt the color drain down to my neck leaving my face a sheet of porcelain.

  Oliver.

  Undeniably Oliver.

  I wasn’t just seeing his face in other people anymore.

  He drank his coffee and pushed a card forward without a word. I swiped the card quickly, trying to swallow whatever moisture my now dry mouth held.

  What was he doing here? Why didn’t he leave last night?

  I cursed my four-hour shifts silently, in my head. I waited for the receipt to print, ripping it from the cash register, and I put the paper in between the pages of the top book. I held the bag up for him to take, but he simply stood there, ignoring his purchase altogether. I knew that smirk; he was plotting.

  I jumped, as Savannah’s designer bag plopped down on the counter.

  “I know, I know. I’m late. Can you scold me later? I haven’t even sipped my coffee.”

  Her curt smile wrapped around the coffee cup that I recognized from our own coffee bar. She was late with a coffee nuzzled between her fingers. Typical Savannah. She finally noticed something outside of herself, which was limited to boys, designer anything, and her damn phone. She scanned Oliver as his tattooed hand pushed his hair longer-than-I-was-used-to hair back from framing his face. She became the less careless version I knew. In this moment, she cared more than I had ever witnessed, with all of her focus on finding out who he was.

  I interrupted whatever was about to transpire right in front of me by speaking: “Thank god you’re here. I’m already over an hour. I’m gonna head out. Make sure you sign in.”

  She didn’t budge an inch, standing in the same place. “Layla, don’t be so rude. I’m helping our handsome customer. Hi, I’m Savannah.”

  Oliver’s eyes squinted in my direction, like he was evaluating how this made me feel. “I’m… not interested.”

  Savannah’s flirtatious face deflated into disgust that someone could deny her.

  His eyes locked back onto mine, and a small smile sparked in a thankful way. No one ever turned down Savannah. Oliver’s status was still unknown, besides Jade being a part of his life permanently, as a girlfriend or just a co-parent. I didn’t know which one yet. All I knew was he brought her to Liz’s engagement party, and that had to mean something.

  “Layla, grab your stuff. Let’s go.”

  Savannah’s head snapped in my direction dangerously quickly, giving me a star of confusion, as she tried to add up what was happening.

  I leaned down, grabbing my bag from the drawer under the register I had shoved it into. I wrestled to get it out with both hands, mentally reminding myself to get a smaller bag and stop needing so much “just in case” stuff. I watched Oliver lean into Savannah’s space, and my heart pounded, as I rose up from my knees quickly.

  “I can see you’re confused,” he said to her. “I dated Layla in college.” He didn’t attack. He didn’t make her feel small—not that I wanted that. Oliver had a talent of making moments like this amuse him. He’d revel in the confusion, and he would snap their whole belief system against his words. It would turn their systematic world upside down.

  The judgment in her voice was so clear I could see through it, right to her actually disgusted grin. “You two… dated? You’re messing with me.”

  I came around the counter and whispered for Oliver to drop it. I tugged the jacket he was wearing in this heavy heat of summer in Boston. Instead, he slung his arm around me, pulling me closer into his side, as if nothing changed. Everything in me ceased to work anymore. This felt like a bad dream… and only bad because when I opened my eyes, all of it would cease to be real.

  “Sweetheart, I didn’t have a type until I met her,” he jabbed in her direction. He didn’t know she was made of thick skin. This generation either broke or bent under all the attention, pressure, social media expectations… Savannah didn’t break or bend, she was creating new rules. She was about as concerned with his thoughts as she was coming to work on time.

  Even his jabs didn’t dissolve the instant attraction still glimmering in her eyes—glimmer aimed right at the man who took my heart in one swoop.

  She knew better than to reply and fuel his fire. She simply folded her arms under her breasts, most likely as a last ditch effort in gaining his attention.

  I’ve only seen Oliver across rooms for the past few years. Now I was close enough, tucked under his arm, triggering every memory I tried so hard to push to the back of my mind, where things get fuzzy, but never forgotten. I took a strong inhale and let his personalized scent of cigarettes and cologne take over my senses. I let my eyes flutter shut for only a moment, giving all my attention to the memories of us swirling around in my head.

  My big, blue eyes only sleepily open when I heard him speak again. “Let’s get out of here…?”

  I nodded my head, not entirely sure how to respond or how to be at all. His arm was still heavy on my shoulders as I plucked my phone from my back pocket.

  Hunter: Are you gonna text me back or ignore me now that pretty boy is in town?

  I didn’t even realize Oliver’s arm shifted, and he was hovering behind me, reading the messages from Hunter displayed on my screen. His hot breath tickled my ear, and I froze, locking my screen as quickly as I could. There was only a slight part of me that was happy he read it, instead of me telling him I slept with Hunter semi-regularly.

  “So it’s true, Layla?”

  I didn’t want to turn around and face him. I didn’t want any words to slip from my mouth as I held my lips tautly together, while I shook my head in the direction I’m sure he’d resent soon.

  I felt his whole body tense against my back with the answer to the question he kept asking over and over. I’d do the same thing: ask until the answer changed.

  His defeated voice barked above me, “Get in the car. I’ll drive you home. You have bridesmaid shit, right?”

  I nodded again. My ability to speak was crushed with his defeated voice. I hurt Oliver in a way I didn’t think was still possible. The leather seats made the same ugly sound as I slid in. My whole body went through guilt, sadness, and remorse before landing on angry. He
was doing the same thing with Jade, yet I was the one made to feel like a dirty cheater.

  “It’s no different than you fucking Jade.”

  My voice always drew out the word “fucking” like it never truly belonged in my vocabulary. He let his keys hang from the ignition, stopping to face me with an undeniably pissed expression.

  “No, Layla, it’s actually not the same thing. I didn’t rape Jade in high school and then become fuck buddies.”

  I was snide right back. “Feeding you drugs? Letting you fuck her without protection? Leaving you to overdose? Having your baby without telling you? We both picked the evil we knew, just like you said.”

  His hand hit the steering wheel, as he continued to twist his keys and his car’s throaty voice picked up. “It was never supposed to be him.”

  “Are you mad it’s Hunter, or would you still be mad if it was anyone?”

  He didn’t look at me when he spoke, keeping his eyes only out his window to merge from the curb. “You’re right, Layla. That’s what six years of silence yelled at me every damn day. I’m pissed off anyone has touched you, but I’m furious you chose the same night you were seeing me to fuck Hunter.”

  I felt my cheeks burn, and I sat further back into my seat. “Do you even know where you’re going?”

  His arm reached over my legs pulling the latch to his glove box. His fingers brushed against my knees as he ushered it down make sure it didn’t hit me. I swallowed hard and tried to settle the tingles washing over me, just how they used to. I watched him grab a box of cigarettes and pull one out with his mouth before lighting the end while driving. His palm brushed against my thigh on his way to throw the box back in the glove compartment without looking.

  Another hard swallow. Another wave of tingles trying to shift my attention to between my legs. My mouth was slightly open, and I wondered if he had done it on purpose, since there was no follow through, not even with glances.

  He was chewing bubble gum in place of doing drugs at Liz’s party. I had cracked through whatever progress he had made without me, and he was right back into the Oliver I knew. It was hard to not slip into the person you used to be around people who knew pieces of your soul.

  After a long drag, he said, “I know where you live, with Maddison, Layla.”

  Nothing was secret in this group, not even the privacy of where I lived.

  He pulled into the parking structure, and I quickly wondered why he wouldn’t just drop me off along the curb. He turned off his car and leaned back, still sucking the nicotine from his cancer stick. I didn’t know how to fill the silence, so I let the first thought I had pour out.

  “Congrats. This month is six years, right?”

  I probably shouldn’t have known that. I never went to those gatherings. He continued to look out the window instead of at me anyways.

  “Yeah… but you’re really testing my sobriety with Hunter all over you. It’s still playing on a loop.”

  His brand of cruelty was made to hurt parts of me that I didn’t even know I had. I tried to remind myself of parts of the self-help books I had read once his secret was out.

  This is not your fault.

  Anything that goes wrong hurts them differently.

  I finally spoke as she silence grew. “I didn’t know he was going to act that way. He wasn’t after you. He was comforting me.”

  Oliver flicked the cigarette out his window. “Maddison home?”

  My eyebrows wrinkled in his direction, but he was already getting out of the car without my answer. She wasn’t home. She was actually trying to keep this job longer after Aspen begged her in our kitchen to try harder, despite her argument to not work weekends.

  He walked to the elevator ahead of me, taking bigger strides with his long legs, while I trailed behind. Once the doors opened, I pushed myself into the corner of the elevator, wondering why he was coming up. Aspen wasn’t here either.

  He leaned against the elevator wall, even after pressing the right floor. I watched his hands shake slightly. His gaze followed mine, until he put his hands in his jacket pockets.

  My voice was dripping in nerves and was almost a whisper when it came out: “You’re shaking. Are you okay?”

  He looked up at me, still balling his fists up in his pockets. “It’s been awhile. You gotta stop looking at me with those doe eyes.”

  The same tingles crawled up my spine, as another whisper came out: “Oliver… You can’t say stuff like that.”

  He walked over to me placing his hands on either side of me pushing down on the metal rail. His body pushing up against mine enough to make my breath catch in my throat.

  “Can’t say stuff like what, Layla? That I’m literally hard from touching your goddamn legs?”

  I nodded my head yes, silently hearing his words, only making my body shake the same way inside.

  He leaned down, and our foreheads touched, as he whispered into me, “You don’t want me to say anything. What am I allowed to say, Layla? Tell me.”

  My hand snuck up between our bodies lightly pushing him away without responding. I didn’t know what he could say other than words to kill whatever connection we still had. I wanted to be free, because I had already come to terms with never being his again.

  “Not stuff like that, Oliver.”

  His forehead was still against mine, and our noses rubbed slightly, as his hand snuck down between us. I felt his knuckles brush down the zipper on my jeans before he gripped his length through his jeans. There was no ignoring how wet my panties were between my legs. The ache was all consuming and distracting me from staying strong. He pushed himself into his hand and I felt his knuckles dust against my crotch again. My eyes clamped shut, trying to calm the earthquake taking over me. Hurricane Oliver.

  “So Hunter can have you, but I can’t? It’s me, Layla.”

  ”That’s what Jade is for…”

  His hands cradled my cheeks, and his lips hovered over my lips, but our lips never touched. “Do you think I enjoy fucking the crazy bitch I knocked up while I was high as shit?”

  The elevator doors opened to a few people waiting to board. My eyes shot their direction, and I still felt panicked, even though they were all firmly staring at their phones instead of us.

  Oliver whispered, “Don’t move.”

  I watched him stand up tall as his hand pushed into his pants to adjust himself before grabbing my hand and dragging me out of the elevator to my apartment. I unlocked the door with shaky hands, almost dropping my keys twice.

  I saw Maddison swaying her hips vibrantly, as she stood in front of the stove. Thank god, Maddison was in fact there, saving us both from the mistake of having sex.

  “What are you doing home? I thought you worked ‘til 5. Is everything okay?”

  I dropped my bag on the hallway table, only fishing out my phone as I rounded the island to take inventory of her state of mind.

  She let out a loud sigh. “I quit. But before you go all Aspen… my boss wanted me to go to his summer home with him for the weekend… alone. Ew.”

  My jaw fell open in shock—not of how beautiful she was to merit this kind of attention, but that men were still degrading women in an office like this. I watched Oliver hug her from behind, kissing her head affectionately and greeting her. She was the lifeline between him and Aspen, after their falling out. He adored her like the little sister he never had. I felt a burning creep up in my heart, seeing him so open to love, in any sense.

  He leaned over her, stealing half of her grilled cheese. “Did you tell Aspen, Maddison?”

  She looked at him biting her cheek and staring at him in this way that looked like words even though they were absent. He took out his phone, and I witnessed him texting, a rare sight.

  Maddison’s hand landed on his forearm, gripping, trying to stop him from pressing send. “Oliver. He’s protective. He’ll just freak out. It’s no big deal.”

  I sat at the island, drinking my water, remaining semi-invisible as I watched them inter
act.

  His elbows landed on the island next to me, and his head dropped. “Did your boss touch you…?”

  Her voice was chipper and proud. “Not without a slap.”

  Oliver dropped his phone on the countertop and pulled her in for another hug. I barely made out the whisper he said into her hair. “Maddison, you might wanna go to your room.”

  She slapped his arm, pulling away, “So gross.”

  He laughed, turning his attention to me again after he was done fiddling with his phone. I was sure he texted Aspen, even though it wasn’t a secret how strained their relationship was after that night.

  “Gonna show me your room?”

  “We can’t, Oliver… seriously. Other people are involved now. What we do has consequences.”

  If I said it out loud, it might remind me that, no matter how much between my legs was aching, we couldn’t go there. That was a place I wouldn’t be able to come back from. It would spur on my hopeful heart another six years.

  I pushed open my door, revealing my room as I set my phone down on the nightstand and pulled open my closet for a comfy outfit to change into. The bookstore was business casual for me as a manger, but jeans and black shirt with our logo for everyone else. I grabbed a white tee and a pair of shorts, not too revealing. Oliver roamed around, looking at everything with critical eyes, almost like he was looking for something.

  “I’m gonna change. I’ll be right back.”

  I closed my bathroom door behind me, trying to abuse taking in oxygen, because around him I was deprived. I changed quickly and made sure my shorts weren’t too short in the mirror. I pulled the hair tie letting my blonde waves fall from the high bun before I tussled it into behaving. The knock at the door almost terrified me as I said come in automatically without thinking.