“I feel like I need to be really honest about where my head’s been the last few years. It’s not the most upstanding place it could have been.”
He worries I’m going to think he’s dishonorable? Me? “Have you not yet figured out you can be honest with me?”
“I wasn’t in a good place after Eden’s betrayal. I went through a lot of booze. A lot of women and meaningless relationships. Do you remember the drunk woman from the restaurant when we met for lunch about tonight’s event? She’s only one of many.” I don’t love hearing how he went through women but it’s his past. “I did other things, too, which don’t make me very proud.” Other things.
“You placed your trust in Eden, and she betrayed you. You had no choice but to put caution tape around your heart. Not allow anyone in.”
“I love how you get me.”
“I love how you get me.”
I lean in and press my face to his chest as we sway; I’m afraid he’ll see too much if he looks into my eyes.
Warm breath hovers above my ear and I erupt into chills. “Would you consider going on a date if the right person asked?”
I bite my bottom lip and suppress my smile against his chest. “Maybe.”
“What would it take to be the right person?” His voice is low. Tantalizing.
“Well . . . he’d need to be kind and considerate. Respectful of me and my many boundaries. Trustworthy. Handsome would be a plus.”
Oliver takes a step away from me so I’m no longer able to hide my face against his chest. “Am I any of those things to you?”
“You are all of those things to me.” And so much more.
“You make me laugh. Smile. Feel. I like being with you. I like who I am when we’re together. I like . . . you.”
Admitting feelings like those is a scary thing. But Oliver did it, not knowing what kind of reaction he’d get from me. He is handing over his trust to me. Reminds me of the leap we took when we confessed our secrets to one another. Would he really believe I wasn’t interested?
I have the same feelings for Oliver. He makes me laugh. Smile. Feel. I like being with him. I like who I am when we’re together. I like him. But admitting those feelings may be even more frightening than sharing my secret. “I like you too.”
“I have a wonderful family, great friends, a successful business. But my personal life is an empty shell. I want that to change, but I worry too much has happened. I’m afraid I’m incapable of the things a relationship requires.” There’s that smile, this time slow-forming, but still beautiful.
It’s as though he crawled into my mind and extracted those words from my brain. “We like each other. We like being together. Maybe we just go on a date and not worry about all the other stuff?”
“I’d like that. Does Saturday night work?”
I rarely have a free Saturday. It’s the price of having a successful agency. “I have an event. With my line of work, I’m usually tied up late Friday evenings until the end of the event. Sometimes they’re two and three days long.”
“I didn’t want to wait a week anyway. Let’s do it tomorrow night.”
That’s very soon. And exactly what I want. “Yes.”
“Whatever you want to do, I’m in. Name it.”
A normal first date typically involves dinner in a restaurant. Maybe a movie at the theater. Boring.
I don’t think normal or typical fits Oliver and me. Our unfortunate life experiences have seen to that. “I have an idea, but I don’t know how you’ll feel about it.”
“I’m open to whatever you want.”
I don’t know about that. “Maurice performs at a club on Sunday nights.”
Oliver’s brow wrinkles. “What kind of club?”
“Exactly the kind you’re thinking.”
“Oh. What kind of act?”
“He sings. In drag. While impersonating Whitney Houston. Goes by Wet Me Houston.” Oliver tells me Lawrence is unconventional so he’s used to different. But Maurice is . . . Maurice. I highly suspect Oliver’s never experienced anything like him. “It’s all very over the top. Sequined dress. Wig. Dramatic makeup. Boobs. But he’s incredible. It’s an a-ma-zing show.”
Oliver looks unsure. Or terrified. I can’t decide which. Madame Dragonflys could be a little much for a first date. I don’t want to push him into something that’ll make him uncomfortable, but I am an eclectic person and this is part of me. Supporting my biggest supporter. “I understand how all of that could be awkward for you. We don’t have to go there.”
Oliver exhales deeply through pursed lips. “Maurice is important to you. He’s your friend, so yeah. Let’s do it.” He gets me.
“Really?” He isn’t all in. I can feel it in his tense posture. But he’s doing it anyway. For me.
“Absolutely. I’m sure it’ll be a blast.”
“Show starts at nine.” Thinking I can surprise Maurice on this one, so telling him isn’t going to happen. “Want to come over to my place for dinner first? Maybe have some homemade pizza?”
“Only if you let me help.” Cooking together. That should be fun.
“Only if you bring the beer.”
“I think I can handle that. Thick or thin crust?”
“Thin.” I snap my teeth. “I’m a texture girl. I like crunch.”
“Me too. Red or white sauce?”
“Depends on my mood.”
“I like both.”
“I make a really good margherita with red sauce or a roasted artichoke and spinach on white. Sometimes, I add grilled chicken to that one.” Why do we have to choose? “Or we could fix both.” People think pizza is difficult but it’s a very easy meal to prepare.
“I vote for both. You know how I love to eat.”
The man can shovel it in. “I sure do.”
“If I’m not careful, you’ll put some pounds on me with all your goodies.” Truth.
“Why do you think I go around giving all of it away? I gained ten pounds when I started baking. Took four months to lose it. It comes on way easier than it comes off. It’s one of the worst therapies anyone can have. I don’t know why I couldn’t get the itch to clean or something like that?”
“The baking bug bite is far gentler than the itch to use your fists.”
Oliver told me about the incident with his father but he didn’t mention anything about fighting being an ongoing problem.
Huge fucking red flag.
“Physical violence is your outlet?”
“No, Adelyn. No. I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant at all. I train with a boxing coach. A punching bag is the only thing to ever feel my aggression. Never a woman.”
He said he itched to use his fists. H
is words.
“Look at me.” He holds my chin between his thumb and index finger, guiding my face so we’re eye to eye. “Never. Not once have I ever hurt a woman. Tell me you believe me.”
This is important. I can’t afford to be wrong again. I can’t afford to believe lies. I can’t afford to fall for a man who will hurt me.
But Oliver won’t. I sense it in everything about him. “I believe you.”
The song ends and he’s still holding my face. His thumb skates across my bottom lip. “The only reason these lips should ever be swollen is because they’ve been kissed long and hard.” I instinctively lick my lips.
Kissed long and hard.
Those words do so many things to my insides.
“I could go for some of that.” And so many other things.
“Sorry to interrupt, Adelyn, but Michelle needs your help in the back.” Dammit to hell.
I sigh, gathering patience before replying. “Be right there.”
Oliver releases me. “Duty calls.”
“Duty calls with extraordinarily bad timing.”
“It’s okay. We’ll finish this when we have all the time in the world.”
Yes, we will.
Oliver Thorn
I enter Adelyn’s kitchen and hold up a six-pack in each hand. “I come bearing beer.”
“Nice. But I think we’ll be tanked if we drink all that.” Her eyebrows lift toward her hairline as she laughs. “Or is that part of the plan because of where we’re going later?”
I think Adelyn is far more worried than me about the drag club. Sure, I wouldn’t choose to do something like that on my own, but I’ll go for her. “It’s for fun. I’m cool with it.”
“I’m glad you feel that way. I think you’ll be surprised by how entertaining it really is. It’s like Miss America meets Broadway meets Cirque du Soleil minus the acrobats. Very theatrical.” That’s how I’m looking at this. Entertainment.
I place two opened beers on the island before putting the rest in the fridge. “I brought a new kind for you to try. Saison.”
“Ah, thanks. I’m going to be a beer expert before too much longer.” She takes a drink and nods. “Has a nice flavor.”