“Yes. Just my friends checking in.”
“Are they here with you?”
I shook my head. “No, they’re messaging me from back home. They are very…curious about this whole thing,” I said, waving at the room.
Oliver chuckled. “I imagine they must be quite jealous. Not manytwenty-one-year olds get to experience this.”
I shot him a nervous look. It was a stupid lie, and he’d obviously seen right through it. “Seventeen,” I confessed. “My eighteenth birthday is in a week and a half.”
I thought I saw something triumphant flicker in his eyes at my admission. Then it was gone.
“Ah. Got any big plans?” he asked, leaning over to pour us more champagne. I was starting to feel it, but I made no move to stop him. I took it as a welcome indication that he was enjoying our conversation and wanted me to stay.
“Not really. I suppose this tour is the big plan.”
“It’s your eighteenth birthday, beautiful. I think it needs to be special.”
My heart was pounding in my ears. Beautiful. He had just called me beautiful. Was this really happening?
He placed his hand on my knee. “Let’s take a picture for your friends. Show them how much fun you’re having.” He trailed his finger in a slow circle on my kneecap.
I reached back into my purse for my phone with a trembling hand. Oliver seemed oblivious to my reaction to him, scooting closer until our thighs were pressed against each other. He took my phone and wrapped his other arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer until his scent had filled my nose. I thought I might combust in flames.
I gave the camera a dazed smile, while he took a few shots. He handed the device back. “Have a look.”
In the picture, Oliver’s mouth was twisted into a sinfully sexy smirk, his arm slung around me. I was molded to him, and my pretty red dress stood out against his dark clothes. The smile I’d thought would be awkward seemed natural on my face. It was as if by the force of his own godly presence, I was shining brighter as well.
“We look good together, don’t we?” he whispered just above my ear.
“Yeah, we do.” I swallowed. “You look amazing.”
He laughed, amused by my breathless admission. I tried to compose myself as heat rushed to my cheeks. The champagne was loosening me up, and I knew that if I kept drinking, I’d probably say something even worse.
“I should get back to the other guys,” I said and slipped my phone into my purse.
“No need to run off,” he said with a chuckle. “I’m glad I finally got some reaction out of you. This whole time, I thought my charms might be waning.”
Was this a game for him? Everything inside of me dropped at the thought. No, it couldn’t be. Even my brother said he was a good guy.
“I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” I muttered.
“Ah, that’s reassuring.” He smoothed the front of his shirt, his chin slightly raised, as he watched me stand up. “But you’re still leaving?”
“Cole’s probably looking for me.”
Oliver cocked a brow. “I wouldn’t hold your breath for that. Let’s just say…he was having fun in the bathroom with someone when I first got in.”
A frown settled on my face. So much for Cole being worried about me. I knew I should be happy about it—it meant I’d get the freedom I so desperately craved—but instead, I felt a pinprick of hurt. My brother clearly cared more about his road wife than his sister.
“Well, the others might be looking too,” I said lamely.
“Okay. If you ever need any friendly company, you know where to find me.” Oliver extended his hand.
I placed my hand in his and watched in stunned silence as he placed a soft kiss on my burning hot skin.
When he let go, I clutched my hand to my chest, as if trying to guard whatever trace his kiss had left behind.
The smirk reappeared on his face. “I’ll see you around.”
