“Yeah, I remember.”
“Were you being serious?”
She paused, pulling the hoodie tighter around her. “I was. But I didn’t know you then like I know you now.”
“So now you do think we are right for each other?”
She shrugged. “Didn’t say that.”
I huffed, and glanced at her sideways. When she looked back down at her feet, I followed her gaze. Her heels must have been killing her. I pointed at them. “What are those things?”
She stopped and lifted a foot. “My shoes?”
“They are like half shoe, half boot. I’m so confused,” I teased.
“They’re bootie shoes! Aren’t they the cutest?” She twisted her foot, admiring them.
“They’re weird, Taryn.” I rolled my eyes.
She stomped her foot into the cement. “You don’t like them?”
“They just look odd to me. Like they don’t know what they want to be. They’re making me uncomfortable.” I wasn’t exactly lying. It was a fucked up concept. “Did some shoe inventor say, ‘Let’s make a shoe but make it look like a boot. But not have any functionality of a boot’?”
Groaning, she put both hands on my chest and pushed me hard. “Think outside of the box, Ollie. The shoe box anyway. Vi has a pair too.”
I regained my balance and rubbed my chin. “She does? I hadn’t noticed.”
She harrumphed. “Doesn’t surprise me.”
“Am I really that bad of a boyfriend?”
“Funny, I don’t think you are.” She smiled at me again. “How’s the reading assignment going? Did Captain Spencer bang Matilda on the island yet?”
I lifted my eyebrows, feigning excitement. “There’s an island? Oh awesome. Can’t wait to get to that part.”
She laughed. “See, I knew you’d be into it.”
I shrugged.
We walked slowly and quietly up to North Campus. The Study was within our sights. I pointed toward it. “You sure you’re not interested in the meat-fest at The Study tonight? I’ll walk you over.”
She shook her head. “Nah. It would be wasted money and time. I’m going to head home. I just have to text Rachel.”
I bobbed my head in an awkward nod. “I’ll walk you.”
“Thanks.”
But when I started toward Mill Street, she didn’t follow.
I turned around. “What’s wrong?”
She shifted her weight and flipped her phone around in her hands. “Um. Are you hungry?”
Chapter Ten
Taryn
I knew asking Ollie to go to the diner with me was a dumb move. One of these days, I’d have to stop liking him. One of these days, I’d have stop missing him when I didn’t see him, stop checking my phone for his text messages. Even though I missed Vi, I found myself wishing that time would go slower. I hated myself for it, but the fact of the matter was, I wanted to hang out with Oliver.
The diner was on the other end of Mill Street. Close. Practically on our way to the apartment anyway, and it was just a bite to eat. Not a big deal. We all needed food to live, so I refused to think of it as anything more than survival. It was after eleven when we were seated in a booth. Ollie asked what I wanted and ordered for me, which was old-fashioned but made me melt a little.
“So what’s it like to have both hands back?” I asked.
He fisted and stretched his hand, holding it up to show me. “It’s weird. I was getting used to being a lefty.”
“I remember,” I teased, taking a sip of my soda.
He smirked. “Ha, ha. Now I can hold my book up though. Moby Dick is a heavy load.”
“Why don’t you read it on your phone?”
With a tsk, he shot me a disgusted look. “Classics should always be read on paper, Bella.”
“Sor-ry,” I sang. “What is it about the whale book anyway?”
He shrugged. “I like it. I kind of dig outdoors stuff. Man versus nature storylines.”
“You do?” I looked from his head to his chest. “You don’t seem like the nature type.”
“I don’t? Why not?”
“Because you seem more of a suit and tie type guy.”
“Well, looks can be deceiving, I guess. Josh and I hike a lot. My parents have a house in Maine. My favorite job ever was when I spent the summer there and organized hikes for people.”
“You?” I tried to picture Ollie outside hiking through the woods. It actually wasn’t that hard to imagine him, smiling at a group of people and explaining plants and crap. “I guess I could see that. Was a spreadsheet involved?” I sipped my drink and eye-flirted with him over the rim of my glass.
“Ha, no.” He rolled his eyes. “I’d plan each person’s hike around their abilities and what they wanted to do. Take them and, depending on their attitude about having me around, teach them about some of the things they were seeing.”
An image of Oliver and me standing in a forest, rain falling on us as his lips pressed against mine, flashed through my mind. I shook my head to erase it. “Vi told me about your beach house on the Jersey shore. She didn’t tell me about the Maine house, or mention the hiking job.”
“She wasn’t thrilled that I’d spent the summer in Maine that year.” He took a sip of his water. “What about you? Do you like being outdoors?”
“I love being on the beach.” I let out a long sigh. “I could lie there all day, listening to the waves and feeling the sun heat my body. Very jealous of your shore house.”
“The shore house is fun.” He did his signature move, touching his nose and then holding up his finger. “But have you ever hiked?”
I kicked him under the table. “In these bootie shoes?”
He groaned. “Yeah, we’d have to get you hiking boots, for sure.”
We smiled at each other. I wasn’t sure if he realized he was planning a future outing for us where “we” got me hiking boots. I was forced to push away the image of the forest kiss again. Clearing my throat, I reminded myself that he wasn’t mine. “Have you heard from Vi?”
He shook his head. “I haven’t. Have you?”
“Not since her post last weekend.”
The waitress brought our burgers over and placed the plate of fries we planned to share in the middle. We thanked her, and she left.
“You know you have to pay, right?” I told him.
“No problem,” he said. “It’s the least I could do. Without you, I’d be home by myself with a book.”
“That actually doesn’t sound terrible. I mean, besides the fact that you’re reading Moby Dick, which looks boring as fuck.”
“It’s not as exciting as Sailboat Sexcapades, that’s for sure.”
I laughed as the diner door flew open. A group of guys walked in, all loud and boisterous. Josh was amongst them. Unfortunately, so was Danny Winger, the last guy I’d slept with almost six months ago. “There goes the neighborhood.” I nodded toward the door. “Football guys.”
They were laughing obnoxiously. Pretty typical behavior for the diner at that time of night. Ollie waved at Josh, and I hid my face. “No! Don’t call them over.”
But it was too late. Josh weaved his way toward us, his friends lingering behind.
“What’s up, kids?” Josh’s slur told me he was drunk.
Suddenly, a body slid into the booth next to me. Danny. He flung an arm around me. “Hey, sexy.” When he squeezed my shoulder, I jerked away. “You into the smart guys now?” He looked to Ollie, who raised his eyebrows.
I grimaced, shoving him. “Go away, Danny.”
“That’s not what you said to me that night.” He laughed.
Josh gave Danny a push on the shoulder. “Leave her alone,” he said.
Oliver must have caught on that there was more to the story than Danny just being a douchebag. He reached for my hand. “This is a private booth, guys. We’ll catch up with you later, okay? We’re just about to eat.”
Danny plucked a fry from our plate, tossing it into his mouth. “Don�
��t get too fat, Tar. Hate to see that perfect ass of yours blow up.” He clucked like an idiot with his dumb friends.
“Inappropriate,” I murmured.
Oliver glared at Danny as if Danny weren’t a hundred pounds heavier than him. Then he said, “I think it’s time you go.”
Josh touched Danny’s shoulder. “Come on, man. Oliver’s right. Let’s get a table.”
Danny looked up at Josh. “Oh shit. I forgot you did her too. Show of hands, who here hasn’t fucked Taryn yet?”
With that, Ollie stood up and reached over the table, grabbing Danny by the shirt and trying to pull him closer. “Who the fuck do you think you are? Get the hell out of here.”
Danny laughed and shoved Ollie away. “Or what?”
I felt my eyes burn with tears, embarrassed that we were causing a scene and pissed off that Danny had this power over me. I don’t know what I had been thinking the night we’d had sex. In that split second at the diner, I decided that I’d never again let anyone use me the way Danny had used me that night.
Fairly certain that Danny could break Oliver into two, I tried to dissolve the situation. “It’s okay, Oliver. You know, fucking Danny was the most boring two minutes of my life.”
The guys scoffed, and Danny turned beet red. “You’re a bitch.”
As soon as the words left Danny’s mouth, Ollie jumped over the table and grabbed Danny by the throat. The two wrestled over the table until Ollie ended up on top of Danny on the floor. He started wailing on the asshole.
Josh reached for Ollie, pulling him off of Danny and trying to hold his hands back, but Oliver kept punching.
“Stop!” I shouted.
With a quick look at me, Oliver’s face relaxed, and he let Josh pull him away.
Danny sprung up, his nose bleeding. He held a hand to it. He had an inch or two on Ollie and about a hundred pounds, but Ollie stared at him like he wanted to kill him. He didn’t even flinch when Danny said, “I’m going to kick your scrawny ass.”
“Let’s go,” Oliver said, waving his hands.
Josh shoved Oliver behind him. With a hand to Ollie’s chest, he turned to Danny, blocking him from attacking Oliver again. “You deserved that, Dan. Get out of here.”
The waitress and manager came over, yelling, as Dan scurried out. Oliver twisted out of Josh’s grasp. “I’m sorry,” he said to the waitress.
I watched Danny leave, able to breathe again. “I’m sorry too. That guy was drunk and harassing me.” I looked to Josh. “Maybe you should go also.”
Josh nodded. “Sorry, Tar.”
“I’m calling the cops,” the manager said, watching Josh and the other guys leave.
Ollie held out his hands. “No. No need. We’ll all leave.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. “I’m sorry for the disturbance.” He dropped a fifty on the table and turned to me. “Are you okay?”
My stomach twisted, the little bit of my burger that I’d eaten threatening to come back up. “Yeah. I’m sor—”
“Don’t say anything else,” Oliver said. “Just give me a minute and then let’s get out of here.”
He shook his hand, letting it flop from the wrist. My chest tightened when I realized it was the same hand that had recently come out of the cast. He handed me my phone, which had been pushed off the table, then picked up his backpack. Placing a hand on my lower back, he guided me toward the door.
Outside, he looked left and right. “That asshole better not be here. I swear, Taryn, I’ll kill him.”
His words surprised me. I knew he wasn’t drunk, and the recklessness he conveyed wasn’t a sober Ollie trait, at least not that I knew of. “It’s alright, Ollie. He’s a drunk idiot.”
“Doesn’t matter.” He started down Mill Street toward the apartment. I walked beside him. “He shouldn’t be talking to you like that. Christ, the two of you shared a bed, and he’s talking to you like you’re some kind of—”
“Shh.” I took his good hand. “I’m at fault too for having sex with the jerk.”
“I can’t believe you let him see you naked.”
I sputtered out a laugh. “That’s a weird way to put it.”
“He should be fucking honored to be with you, and he has the gall…” He pulled his hand out of mine and turned around, marching back toward the diner. “I’m going to kick his ass.”
I chased after him. “Stop. Please. He’s not worth it.”
He stopped moving and turned to me, the anger on his face turning to something else, his gaze softening. “But you are,” he said.
My heart fluttered at his words, but I spun him around and pointed him back in the right direction, toward the apartment. After we walked a few feet, he seemed to calm down. I glanced at him sideways. “Thank you for standing up for me.”
He stopped moving, not meeting my eyes. “Promise me you aren’t going to sleep with any more assholes.”
I could have said it was none of his business whom I slept with, but I didn’t because he was right. “I promise.”
“I’m serious, Taryn. That’s some fucked up shit he said to you.” He pointed back toward the diner, as if Danny were still there.
“I’m serious too.” I took his outstretched arm, grabbing his elbow and bringing it to his side. “I’m glad you were with me,” I said softly. My cheeks warmed as I looked at the only man, besides my father, who had ever tried to protect me. “Thank you for defending me.”
He huffed and shook his head. “I’m walking you home. I don’t trust him.” As he started down the street, he pulled out his phone. “I’m texting Josh too.”
We walked in silence for a while until Oliver slung his arm around my shoulders and kissed me on the top of my head.
“I’m sorry if I scared you,” he murmured into my hair. “I can be a hothead sometimes, and ass-wipes like Danny are usually who set me off.”
Obviously, Danny could have slaughtered him, but it was like Oliver didn’t care. From what I’d learned about Ollie, he was practical, calculated, and reasonable while sober, and it was the alcohol that made him turn into, as he called it, a “hothead.” But that night, he’d soberly mustered up all of his emotional energy for me.
When we reached the alley to the apartment, I turned to him. His expression had softened.
He shook his bad hand again, rubbing his fingers, then met my gaze. “Are you going to be okay?”
“Me? Of course.” I reached for his wrist. “Let’s get you some ice, though.”
“No.” He glanced upward at the apartment door. “I can’t go inside.”
The skin of his arm throbbed against my fingers. “But it’s swelling already. I can get you the ice pack and then you can leave—”
“Can’t.” His voice was low in the quiet alley.
“Why not?” I asked as I examining his hand, turning his palm down and massaging his knuckles.
“Because I would want to spend the rest of the night showing you how a real man could treat you.”
My eyes widened. Well then…
His words caused me to turn my attention from his wrist to his face. In the glint of the moonlight, I could make out his eyes on mine. He furrowed his brow, like he was a bundle of emotions that I couldn’t quite figure out.
“Not sorry.” He smiled weakly and took away his hand. “Go. I’ll watch you walk in.”
I started for the stairs. When I reached the bottom, I stopped and looked over my shoulder. Ollie watched me, waiting. At that moment, he wasn’t an awkward tween or a sexy nerd. Maybe he was just being himself—a wonderful combination of the two.
The pull to him was instant and undeniable. Without a choice, I marched back to him, holding his gaze. He didn’t react, almost like he knew that I had to do what I was about to do.
When I reached him, I stopped, my face inches from his. Then I leaned in and kissed him on the lips. Because I had to. I had to feel what those sweet-looking lips tasted like on mine. Had to let him know that he had been my hero.
/> Had. To.
Ollie kissed me back but didn’t make any other moves. Didn’t touch me. Didn’t try to stick his tongue down my throat. Our lips were the only physical connection between us. I wanted him to grab me, to tell me he wanted me like I wanted him, but he didn’t. Basically, he let me kiss him.
I held the kiss as long as I could, nibbling at the sweet pout I’d known for three years but had only noticed in the past few weeks. He reciprocated, taking my lips between his and letting my tongue trail them as our chests brushed together.
Finally, I pulled away, panting. We held one other’s gaze, each waiting for the other to make a move. I wasn’t going to apologize, and I wasn’t going to beg. I broke away first, spinning on my heel and walking back toward the steps.
“Tar.” The syllable came from behind me, a strained croak, low and sexy.
I froze, with my back to him, and half-smiled to myself. I loved that he sounded as needy and desperate as I felt.
“Get back here.” Again, his voice was strained and eager.
My entire body lit up at the three words, anticipating that if I did what Ollie wanted and went back to him, it would finally get what it needed.
I turned. But before I took another step, he charged me.
One hand weaved through my hair to cradle my head and the other wrapped around my waist, as his lips covered mine and our bodies collided. He pressed against me, not breaking contact, not playing games.
His warm lips made me dizzy; his hands on me felt like fire. I wanted him to move faster, give me more, but his kisses were consistent. Like he’d stand there forever, at the bottom of my stairs in the alleyway, teasing me with his tongue and making me want him.
“Oliver,” I moaned.
He grabbed my ass and moved me back so that my calves hit the stairs. I sat, spreading my legs and pulling him in between. He pushed against me, his hard-on rubbing me where I needed him most. Pawing at my shirt, he pulled it down over my shoulders and nibbled my skin. “I can’t resist you,” he murmured, his fingers tracing my arms.
I couldn’t catch my breath. I didn’t care that we were outside and that we were both so riled up that there was a possibility we’d fuck right there on the stairs. I begged, “Please come up.”
Breaking the Plan: Mill Street Series #1 Page 10
