"Depends. If you ask my sisters, they’ll tell you hell no. They think I’m an angel." She laughs. "Speaking of sisters, do you only have the one I met at the meet and greet?" she asks as I do up the clasp at the top of the zip before taking a much needed step away from her.
"What are you trying to do here, Olive?" I say, watching as she moves around my kitchen in a hurry, putting things like makeup and her phone into her purse.
"Trying to get to know my future husband, isn't it obvious?" She zips her bag closed and drapes it over her shoulder. "Wait, Ishould probably know, have you ever been married before or will I be…your first?"
I rub the back of my neck, breathing heavily through my nose and out of my mouth.
"Yes. Noelle is my only sister, and no, I’ve never been married before. Have you?" I lean my hip against the counter, shoving my hands deep into my pockets, fidgeting with the box as a distraction.
I’m not sure how to it give her. Not even sure I want to.
It has anOandAon it, for fucks sake.
How much more corny could I get?
The designer told me women loved shit like that, and I handed over my credit card. I picked it up fromAmore’sthis morning.
"Me? Married?" She snorts, her heels clicking against the floor as she approaches the front door. "Yeah, right."
Holding it open for me, she ushers me out of it, and I push off the counter, curious as to what she means.
But I’m too afraid to ask.
So I don’t. Instead, I take the box out of my pocket and say, "Close the door, Olivia."
Her eyebrows pinch together while her nose scrunches up in distaste. But then she watches me slowly as I take the gold chain out, and place the empty box down onto the table.
"Why?" She whispers once the door latches shut.
"I—uh. Orlando told me to get you something. Could you turn around and hold your hair up for me?" I ask, my voice matching hers as I place the letters in the dip of her collarbone. My palm glides around the base of her neck, imitating the form of the piece of jewellery that’s about to take residence in the very same spot.
Her gasp is subtle, but I notice as goosebumps dance over her skin while I trace my fingertips to the back of her neck, clasping the ends of the chain together.
"O and A?" she asks quietly as she picks it up. Looking over at me, her hair cascading down her back, I expect her to poke fun at me for it. Tell me how lame I am, but to my relief, none of that comes. Only a smile. One that I’ve come to enjoy.
I shrug. "No big deal. Come on, let’s go." I open the door for her, but she’s still for a heartbeat while eyeing it off.
"Thanks, AJ." The right corner of her lip tugs, and we head for the door.
Taking the elevator in silence, our hands are an inch apart before the doors open. Flashing lights blind us from outside the glass doors.
She grabs my hand on instinct—in a panic, but without hesitation—threading her fingers through mine while I hold my free hand in front of the doors to keep them from closing.
"It’s Avery, by the way," I say, confusion washing over her face. "The people closest to me call me Avery. Never AJ, never Jones, unless they’re trying to get under my skin."
She nods, gifting me a genuine smile. "Got it."
"After you," I say, nodding toward the exit, and she takes a step out, pulling me with her.
Maybe she’s not as bad as I thought.
Or maybe she’s planning on ruining my life and wants to butter me up first.
Both things could very well be true, and I fear I might just let her do it.
Chapter seventeen
Olive
