He pulled Easton’s sweater off and replaced it with his own, Olive’s hair sticking up with static when she emerged laughing.
I turned around before my jealousy ate me alive.
23
EASTON
I fidgetedwith the buttons on my shirt as I waited for Olive to open the door. I rarely dressed up, so I kept tugging at my suit jacket. Lucy had tailored it for me so it fit, but I still felt a little awkward in it. Would Olive like it?
The door opened, and there she was. My omega. She was wearing those fucking fishnet tights again, this time with thigh-high boots, a short black skirt, and a cream sweater. My mouth gaped like a fish as I tried to come up with something to say, any words to describe how fucking sexy she was. I wanted to bury myself between those thick thighs again, dig my fingers into her every dip and curve.
“Am I dressed okay?” she asked, her words hesitant. “I can change.”
“No,” I almost shouted. I pulled her out of the house by her waist, shutting the door behind her. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
“Oh.” Her lips parted and I captured them with my own, my fingers twisting in her hair, my other hand gripping her hip tightly. She wrapped her arms around me, pressing her soft breasts against my chest.
“My Olive,” I murmured against her lips. “I can’t think clearly around you.” I palmed her ass and she let out a moan, which went straight to my cock. I stepped forward until her back was against thedoor. “Fuck, your body is perfect. So fucking soft. You fit against me like you were made for me.”
“You like my outfit, then?” she asked as I kissed my way down her throat.
“Like is an understatement, little siren. I would wreck my boat at sea just to get close to you.”
Her fingers ran through my hair. “That is the weirdest compliment I’ve ever gotten.”
I reluctantly pulled away, cupping her cheek. “Get used to it.”
I took her hand and we headed up the pathway to town. People peered out of shop windows at us, and I tugged Olive closer to me, trying to distract her. I loved showing her off, wanted to run around town shouting that she was mine, but I didn’t want her to feel self-conscious.
“Do you like Chinese?” I asked as we neared the restaurant. Shit, what if she didn’t? She ate a lot of instant noodles, but that didn’t mean…
“Yes, I love it.”
Her smile was radiant as she looked up at me.
“Good, because here we are.”
I stopped us in front of the Red Lantern. “This restaurant actually belongs to Summer’s parents.”
She cocked her head. “Isn’t Summer Vietnamese?”
“Yep.”
She laughed. “Well, okay then.”
Olive was quiet when we first sat down, but I didn’t mind. I could talk enough for both of us. And slowly, over General Tso’s and Kung Pow Chicken, she opened up. Told me about her family, about pranks she pulled on her dad while they were out lobstering. With every word, I fell more and more in love with her.
Our server brought the bill—which I grabbed before her hand could so much as twitch towards it—and fortune cookies to our table.
She squirmed a little in her seat. “Are you sure?” She gestured at the bill.
I handed her a fortune cookie. “Absolutely. Now, read your fortune. They’re always a bit unique.”
Olive pursed her lips but did what she was told, cracking open the cookie. “Never give up on your dreams. Unless they’re unrealistic. Then yeah, give up on those.” She scrunched her nose adorably.
I broke apart my cookie and flattened the fortune. “Mine just says, ‘For rectal use only.’”
Olive had just taken a sip of her drink and spat it all over the table. “It doesnot.”
