Sugar, We’re Going Down
I brace myself for the impact, but as soon as Oliver turns around and my gaze collides with his electric blue eyes, I know I’ll have to bring my A-game if I’m to survive being near him. I haven’t seen the man in six months, but just being under his scorching gaze is enough to make me relive our fiery kiss and crave for more. I’ve never felt this crazy fixation for anyone before. It’s like an ice cold fever that won’t quit, a yearning that makes by body tingle all over in anticipation.
Oliver’s gaze skates over my body deliberately slowly, and a satisfied grin is plastered on his smug face when he focuses on my eyes again.
“Hello, there,” he says.
“What are you doing here?” I snap and my rude reply earns me a frown from Sebastian. Shit, I really need to work on tempering my bitchiness when I’m nervous.
Oliver chuckles. “I see you’re still mad at me. I’m kind of honored.”
I cross my arms in front of my chest and bite my tongue to keep from saying anything else that will give away how much Oliver is affecting me.
Someone touches my arm and with a side glance I see it’s Liv. “Be nice, Blue. I can’t have my maid of honor bickering with the best man.”
My shoulders sag as I let out a heavy sigh. I’ve never been part of a wedding party before so I have no idea how much interaction there is between the maid of honor and the best man. I hope it’s minimal. Oliver keeps staring at me like he can read my mind. It’s unnerving.
“I gotta make a call.” I turn on my heel and walk away, trying to keep my steps slow and relaxed. But all I want to do is sprint back to the house. That’s how badly Oliver’s presence is turning my head around. I hate this.
Once inside, I veer to the powder room. The make-a-call excuse is terrible, but I need a moment to recover. Inside the small room, I stare at my reflection in the mirror and count to ten in my head. I tell my heart to calm the fuck down and to stop galloping at full speed. I feel like a teenager suffering from her first crush and that’s not an emotional state I want to revisit.
I splash cold water on my flushed face and redo my loose braid. After taking a couple of deep breaths and squaring my shoulders, I can almost pretend I’m ready to go back out. I refuse to let Oliver’s presence keep me from spending quality time with my best friend.
I place one foot out of the door when his voice startles me. “How was that call?”
I jump on the spot, placing a hand over my chest. “Jesus. Did you follow me?”
Oliver is leaning nonchalantly against the wall with his arms crossed. I notice for the first time what he’s wearing, a black T-shirt that highlights his muscled chest and arms. He is also blonder than I remember. But it’s his devious mouth that makes me lose the ability to form coherent thoughts. God, I want to kiss him again.
He pushes himself off of the wall and moves closer. I hold my ground, feigning a pissed off stance. He can’t know how much I crave his nearness.
“What if I did?” he whispers in my ear, making my skin break out in goose bumps.
“I’d say I don’t appreciate stalkers.”
Oliver takes a step back and stares at me. I wish I knew what he is thinking.
“You’ve changed your hair. I kind of liked the mermaid colors.”
I touch my white blonde locks before narrowing my eyes at Oliver. “Did you just follow me to comment on my hair?”
“I want to clear the air around us. I know that we started on the wrong foot—”
“You don’t say,” I cut him off and Oliver flattens his lips.
“But we’ve ended on a very interesting note,” he finishes his sentence with a smirk.
I cross my arms and keep on glaring at the infuriating man. “Don’t get any fancy ideas. That kiss meant nothing and there won’t be a repeat.”
He steps into my personal space again. “Are you sure? I thought that was a wicked kiss. It’s definitely worth an encore.”
I push him away. “It’s been months. Get over yourself. Don’t you have a line of ravenous groupies dying for your attention?”
“Ravenous groupies?” He chuckles. “The images you paint in my head, Saylor. Then you blame me for getting fancy ideas.”
“Listen, Oliver. I don’t know how long you’re in town for, but I would like for us to try to act amicable whenever we’re forced together thanks to our friends’ wedding. So you’d better quit with the sexual innuendo.”
Oliver sighs loudly like what I just asked him is a huge, inconvenient favor. “You’re killing me here, Saylor. Do you know how hard it will be for me to look at you and not want you?”
I suck in a breath as my heart lurches in my chest. It takes me a moment to find my ground again and answer him.
“Try your best,” I say, my voice thin and without substance.
Oliver reaches out and takes a strand of my hair, letting it slide through his fingers. I remain frozen on the spot.
“Maddening, but I will.” He drops my hair and takes a couple of steps back. “And since I’m being completely honest here, I’m seriously considering making California home.”
Oliver goes back to the party outside, leaving me alone to digest the news. Why does it bother me so much that he wants to move to the same state as me? It’s not like we’ll ever see each other besides when we’re doing wedding stuff. What annoys me the most is how my heart hasn’t gotten the memo yet that Oliver is a bad idea. It celebrates furiously in my chest, like it has just discovered how to beat.
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