by Jacob Chance
Oliver: Hey. Can we meet up for a coffee? I need your help with something.
What could he need my help with? Curiosity wins out and I type my reply.
Me: Yeah. Where do you want to meet? I’m about to leave the library. I study my matter of fact answer and make sure I’m satisfied before sending the message.
Oliver: How about that little cafe on Comm Ave near the arena? I just got out of practice.
Me: Sounds good. See you in ten. I clean up my books and put everything in my backpack. Picking up my phone, I grin as I type out another message for him.
Me: And FYI, I’m starving. Guess who’s buying me dinner?
Oliver: I gotchu, tiny dancer.
I experience a little zing of happiness at my nickname. I’m not going to romanticize it or start fantasizing about our future children’s names. But he must like me a little if he took the time to come up with a special name for me. Or am I merely grasping at anything that will give me hope in this hopeless situation?
Walking into the cafe, I notice Oliver immediately. It’s not only that he’s a large guy. His presence is commanding and he stands out wherever he goes. I’m not the only one who thinks so. Whenever we’re together, I watch how every female in his vicinity follows him with their eyes. It makes me feel a little less pathetic about my long-term crush. Maybe he exudes some special pheromones that women are helpless to resist.
His lips arc upward in a smile as soon as he notices me. He rises as I approach and waits until I’m seated in the booth across from him to sit back down. “How are you?” he asks.
“I’m good.”
“Thanks for meeting me.”
“No problem. You helped me out when I needed it.”
“Before I jump into what’s going on, let’s order something to eat.”
Oliver doesn’t broach the subject again until we’ve perused the menus and the waitress has taken our order.
“I have a wedding I need to go to this coming Saturday. I sent the reply back and said I was going. I also checked ‘and guest,’ so I’m hoping you can come with me.”
“As long as I can get out of work it shouldn’t be a problem.”
“You’re not working. I already made sure.” He grins.
I roll my eyes. “Of course you did.”
“Hey, what can I say? I’m on top of things at least.”
If only you were on top of me. “Who’s getting married?”
“Harry, one of my old hockey teammates. He graduated last year.”
“Will I know anyone else there besides you?”
“I think Nolan and Perri are going. And I’m pretty sure Shaw is.”
“Okay, that helps. I can ask Perri what I need to wear since you probably don’t know.”
“Clothes?” he jests, and my lips twitch with amusement.
“What time is the wedding and when do I need to be ready by?”
“The wedding is at six p.m. at the Park Plaza Hotel and the reception immediately follows. I booked a room for the night at the Plaza because it’s convenient, but that was before we met. If you want your own room I can make that happen.”
“We stayed together for two nights in Connecticut.” I shrug. “Why should this be any different?”
“I thought after the other night you might be mad at me.”
“Why would I be?” I ask nonchalantly, pretending I wasn’t.
“You seemed angry when I left.”
“Don’t hold my behavior against me. I was kind of drunk. That was the first time I ever drank whiskey, never mind doing shots of it.” Will he buy my excuse?
“You did fall asleep on the way home. And I did have to carry you up the stairs and deliver you to your door.”
Don’t mention the kiss.
Please don’t mention the kiss.
His lips part as he winds up for his next comment but the waitress interrupts, delivering our meals. I barely conceal my sigh of relief. For once a waitstaff has good timing. I’m going to make sure she gets one hell of a whopping tip.
We both get down to the serious business of digging into our dinners without much conversation. The life of a college student means savoring the home cooked meals when I’m home in Connecticut and the ones where I dine out. Otherwise, I can cook for myself, but who has time to do that? I exist on mostly bacon, eggs, ramen noodles, and grilled cheese sandwiches, with a salad thrown in here and there.
“Oh, the guys wanted me to remind you we have a home game on Friday night. They expect to see you there, and so do I,” Oliver mentions.
“Ugh. You guys are the worst with this good luck charm crap.”
“Are you willing to risk the success of our season to find out if it’s not true?”
“I should, just to prove it’s not.”
“But you’re afraid we might lose and then you’d feel bad.” I raise my shoulders noncommittally. I’m not going to confirm what he guessed. He beams confidently. “I’m right.”
“No comment.”
“You don’t need to answer, tiny dancer. I’ve got you all figured out.” He winks.
God, I hope not. I need to keep some things to myself. Like how much I feel for Oliver. He can’t know how much he means to me. Not now. Not ever.
Knuckles rap on my door just as I’m slipping on my high heels. My soles tap on the wooden floor as I hurry over. Turning the knob, I find Oliver on the other side. But this isn’t the Oliver I’m used to seeing. This version looks like some GQ model in his gray suit and crisp white button-down shirt. His dark hair is stylishly tousled as if he made a special effort, and his wine colored tie is knotted neatly.
“Wow,” he whispers hoarsely as he looks me over. “You’re fucking stunning.”
I smile, happy that he thinks so. The nude, fitted, spaghetti strap dress with a beaded, black lace overlay hugs me in all the right places. It’s daring and not something I would normally wear, but for once I decided to splurge on something new. And with the way he’s looking at me, it was money well spent. I feel sexy, and that’s not a word I would typically use to describe myself.
“You look pretty handsome yourself.” I pat his tie, flattening my palm over the smooth material.
“Did you pack a bag for tonight?” he asks.
“Yep, it’s right here.” I point to the red duffel bag on the floor.
“I got it.” He swings it over the back of his shoulder, his hand gripping the handles while I lock up. We walk down the hall and then he gestures for me to precede him on the stairs. Holding onto the railing, I walk carefully down each step.
“Sorry if I’m so slow, but me and heels don’t go together. I’m not great with stairs on a good day. I tripped up them yesterday.”
He chuckles. “You’re with me now and you told me you’re not a walking accident when I’m around.”
“That has been the case for the most part. We’ll have to see how I fare in the next twenty-four hours before we can definitively say.”
Oliver holds the door open for me and I shiver when the cool night breeze whips around my bare shoulders. “Oh damn, it’s chilly. I might need to run back up for a coat.”
Oliver sets my bag down on the sidewalk and turns to me. Shrugging off his suit jacket, he slips behind me and drapes it over my shoulders. I sigh, snuggling into the material that’s been warmed by his body.
“Thank you. Are you sure you won’t be cold?” I peer up over my shoulder at him.
His hands squeeze my shoulders. “I’m good. Besides, I’m a hockey player used to being in the cold.” He wraps an arm around my shoulders and leads me to the passenger side of the car. I hold his hand as I slide onto the leather seat and then he closes me inside.
Watching him in the side mirror as he puts my bag in the trunk and then makes his way around to the driver’s side of the vehicle, I’m in awe of his good looks. Oliver is gorgeous on a normal day, but tonight in his fitted button-down shirt and tailored suit pants, he’s irresistible. Yet, somehow, I need to find the stren
gth to resist him.
Good luck to me.
The drive to the hotel is quick. Oliver grabs our bags from the trunk and hands over his keys to the valet. We step inside the lobby and the smell of apples and cinnamon envelops me. Glancing around, I take in the fall decorations spread around the room. Pumpkins, gourds, and apples fill a large basket in the middle of the reception counter.
Before I know it, Oliver has our room keys in hand and is ushering me toward the elevator just as the doors part. We step inside and he pushes the number four.
“We don’t have much time before the ceremony begins. Do you mind if we drop the bags in the room and then head out?”
“No. I’m good to go.”
Our room is only a short way from the bank of elevators. Oliver places our bags on the bed before turning to me. He edges closer, cupping my shoulders. “I need to tell you something.” He swallows hard and looks nervous. What could he be worried about? “I’m not sure, but I think Stacey is going to be at the wedding.”
“Your ex?”
“Yes. She’s friends with the bride, so I’m assuming she was invited.”
“Oliver, you should’ve found out for sure.”
“How was I supposed to do that?”
“You could’ve asked your friend Harry.”
He shrugs. “I don’t care if she’s here.”
“You say that now, but what if you realize that’s not true when you see her?”
“I won’t,” he answers confidently.
“For your sake I hope not.” And mine too. Fuck me. I thought this chick was out of the picture, and now I just know she’s going to push her tits and ass all over him and remind him what he’s missing out on. I rub a hand over my forehead.
“Ava, calm down. This isn’t a big deal. We spent a weekend with your ex and it turned out fine. We only have to make it through a wedding and the reception and then we don’t have to see her again. We’re talking about four or five hours max.”
“Right.” I nod. I can’t be too hard on him. We did spend a lot of time with Brian, but he’s also my sister’s boyfriend. It’s not like we could have avoided him even if we wanted to.
“Let’s go. I promise you’re going to have a great time.”
I like his optimism and wish I shared it. But I can’t help the nervous knots tugging tighter and tighter inside my stomach. Instead of being excited about the possibilities a night spent in Oliver’s company could bring, I’m now dreading finding out what unpleasant surprises the future has in store for us.
Chapter Fifteen
Oliver
Watching my friend Harry standing at the front of the reception hall marrying his girlfriend is surreal. He used to be such a ladies’ man before they got together.
Glancing to my left, I find Stacey’s gaze locked on me. She smiles flirtatiously and I look back to the front of the room. What could she possibly think batting her eyelashes at me is going to accomplish? Does she expect that we’ll pick up where we left off as if none of the last eight months happened?
Ava shifts on the chair beside mine and I wrap an arm around her shoulders, sliding her closer to my side. She leans her head into me and I bury my nose in her soft, fragrant hair. Inhaling the clean scent calms me. It’s not that I have any love left for Stacey. I don’t feel hate for her either. I’m numb when it comes to her. There’s nothing there either way. Everything I once upon a time felt, she killed. I should be thanking her. Hell, maybe I will.
I can feel Stacey’s eyes burning into the side of my face. I flash back to the day I moved into the frat house.
“This is the last of it.” Clancy grunts, setting the box down on the hardwood floor.
Thanks to my cheating ex-girlfriend, this room will be my new home. Luckily, my teammate, Clancy, the president of this frat, has the space to accommodate me.
My eyes scan the decent sized area. A queen-sized bed is set against the longest wall and a bureau stands between two tall windows. Glancing at the stack of boxes, I shake my head. It’s overwhelming. There’s a lot to accomplish if I want to get everything unpacked by the end of this weekend. It might be easier to shove my possessions inside the closet and pretend they’re not there.
Wish I could do the same with the memories of how four days ago, I caught Stacey, my ex, kissing another guy on the couch in our apartment. Copping a feel, his hand up her shirt, they were both so into it, neither heard me open the door. Stunned, I stood there watching, until a deep growl crawled up and exploded from my chest. The ferocious sound tipped them off that they were no longer alone.
Breaking apart, he jumped to his feet. I stalked their way, hungry to get his blood on my hands, and it must’ve shown on my face. His eyes opened comically wide with fear as I rounded one side of the couch. He turned, running around the other.
He hoofed it all the way out of the apartment before I could get a hold of him, which was for the best. I’m not sure I’d have been able to show much restraint when it came to beating his ass. And I didn’t need an assault charge to cap off the already shitty week.
Seeing them together, it was obvious this wasn’t the first time they’d been in such a position. I don’t want to know the details of how long they’ve been involved or how far things have gone. The moment I saw Stacey with another guy, our relationship was over. The how's and why’s don’t matter. Cheating is a deal breaker for me.
“Let me know if you need anything, bro,” Clancy interrupts, pulling me back to the present where I need to remain. Focusing on the past, no matter how recent, has a way of magnifying any mistakes I’ve made. And it holds me back from moving on. Not that I’m anywhere near ready to move on. Merely getting out of bed for class this week has been a massive struggle. My grades have already begun to slip and I can’t seem to find the motivation to do anything about it.
Hockey has been my only salvation during this tough time. If I didn’t have that to anchor me, I don’t know what I’d do.
I remember it all, down to the thoughts running through my head. In many ways it seems like a lifetime ago. I’m a different person now than I was then. I’m less trusting, for sure. And living at the frat hasn’t been horrible for me. The other guys have been a welcome distraction. There’s always someone to hang out with when I’m looking for something to do.
Cheering all around me drags me out of my introspection. I realize how long I was lost in my thoughts when I notice the bride and groom kissing. I glance down at Ava and press a kiss to the side of her forehead. She turns her face up to me. Someday she’ll make a beautiful bride for some lucky bastard. My chest painfully squeezes at the thought of her with another man. I wish she could be mine.
We all rise as the now married couple walk down the makeshift aisle. I catch Ava’s hand as we filter out into the crowd. Once we’re in the hallway, I steer her to the side of the space. “Let’s wait until some of these people clear out before we get back in line.”
“Good idea.”
“Hi, Ollie,” Stacey croons, walking my way. I cringe at her nickname. I used to love when she called me that, but now I find it offensive.
“Stacey.” My reply is curt.
“What? No hug?” She pouts her full, red lips. I don’t reply or make a move. “Fine,” she huffs. “This is Matt.” She grabs the sleeve of the guy standing next to her. Thankfully, he’s not the same one I caught her with.
“Nice to meet you.” Matt nods.
“You too.”
“Who’s your friend?” Stacey narrows her eyes, watching Ava.
“This is my girlfriend, Ava.” I squeeze her hand reassuringly.
“Girlfriend? You’re kidding, right?” she scoffs.
“I’m dead serious.”
“This is the first I’ve heard about it,” Stacey snips.
“I don’t know why you’d care what I do or who I do it with.” I turn to Ava. “Are you ready?”
She smiles up at me. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Still holding Ava
’s hand, we trek back into the reception hall, heading straight for the bar. “Would you like a drink?”
“Are you kidding? I can’t get one in me fast enough. Being around Stacey was stressful as fuck. How did you deal with my ex for a whole weekend?”
“Hey, what can I say? I’m just a cool customer.”
“You are. I’ll give you that. I wanted to scratch her eyes out for you and we were barely in her company.”
He grins. “Thanks for the support, but she’s not worth the trouble it would’ve caused.”
“I know. But it pisses me off how she did you so wrong.”
“And what Brian did to you angers me every time I think about it.”
“How did you feel when you first saw Stacey? Any regrets?”
“Not a single one.” We step up to the bar and wait our turn. “Well, that’s not entirely true,” I confess.
Ava frowns. “You had regrets?”
“My only regret is that I didn’t see through her sooner.”
She smiles, looking relieved. “I’m glad you don’t want to get back with her.”
“Were you worried I would?”
“Maybe a little. You guys had over three years of history.”
“Our history was all a lie. For all I know, she was cheating on me long before I caught her. And we’ve already established she was different with others than she was with me. I’m not sure who she really is.” I pause our conversation to order our drinks, wine for Ava and a beer for myself. We search for the table we’re supposed to sit at and find Shaw alone there, nursing a beer.
“Hey, Shaw,” Ava calls out as if they’re old friends. Is she coming out of her shell? Or does she like him?
“Ava, how are you?” Shaw grins and rises to hug her. I barely restrain the growl that surges forward.
“I’m good, thanks.”
“What’s up, man?” I interrupt them and they part. I’m not giving Shaw an opportunity to move in on Ava. If I can’t have her, I’m not watching one of my best friends date her.
