Me: I’m thinking you’re a little on the drunk side, little one.
Olive: It’s Long Island Iced Tea night!!! And I don’t want to be the little one any more, Jason :( I want to be big Olive. I’ve grown up, I’m not clingy or sticky anymore.
Not having a clue what she was talking about, I hesitated for a short moment before calling Alvin.
“Hi Alvin.”
“Hey, boss. What’s up?” There was a rustling sound in the background.
“Sorry man. Bad timing?”
“It’s fine. Did you need something?”
“Yeah. I need you to find me a…a college bar, probably. They are having a karaoke night.”
I could hear his laptop come to life. “O-kay. Is there any way we can narrow that down? Otherwise the list will be longer than you’d want.”
“It should be somewhere near USC. I’ll text you her address so you can check the bars around the apartment, too.”
“And this ‘her’ we’re talking about is Olive Taylor?”
“Yes,” I replied distractedly as I walked back into the house. If I was going out, I would need to change.
“You’re not considering going out to find her in a bar, are you?”
“And if I am?”
“I’d say you must not have enough of Megan chewing your ass and you’re jonesing for more.”
I laughed. “Don’t worry, she won’t hear about this.” I stopped next to my bed. “And if you don’t want to get fired, you’re not reporting that to her either. Get back to me as soon as you can. I’m texting you her address.”
Ending the call, I texted him the address of her apartment and went to my closet to change into something more college-y to blend in with the rest of the frat boys.
Fifteen minutes later, I was on my way to attempt to find Olive in one of the five bars Alvin had texted.
***
It was at the fourth bar that I finally found…something. And by something, I mean Olive and the friend she had introduced me to that day—Lucy? Charlotte?—up on the small makeshift stage just about to start a song.
She looked…damn it but she looked good. Her hair had clearly been haphazardly put into a messy bun, but there were still a few locks that had escaped and were resting over her shoulders, framing and drawing attention to her beautiful smiling face. She was wearing a short dress, which seemed to sit a little tight on her breasts.
Why the hell am I looking at her breasts, again?
Shit!
When the music blasted, they started swaying to the beat. Then reaching up, she let her hair loose, shook her head, and looked at her friend with a big smile on her face as she mouthed something I couldn’t understand. Just as she had said on the phone, they started to sing ‘Let’s Marvin Gaye’ from the top. Then started the slow hip and shoulder movements. The saps who were lined up in front of the stage ate it all up, catcalling and whistling.
Looking down at the floor, I pulled down my baseball hat, trying not to draw attention to myself. I walked in farther and found a dark corner close to the stage. I wanted to grab a beer from the bar, but it wasn’t worth getting recognized for. As soon as I knew Olive was safe with her friends, I would leave. My hands in my pockets, I leaned back against the wood wall and watched the whole thing with bewilderment, amusement, and fascination.
When Olive smiled and bit her bottom lip as her friend took over the song, I was completely mesmerized by her.
Sucker punched.
Then the chorus came and they were singing together again. At one point, Olive gave her back to her friend, glanced over her shoulder, and with a playful look on her face, winked at her. I would have bet millions of my dollars that every hot-blooded male’s attention was on her, not her friend, but it didn’t even look like Olive cared for any of the attention she was getting. Even though her friend was a fiery brunette, she couldn’t hold a candle to Olive’s beauty. If they had the chance, more than half of those idiots would go after her without a second thought.
Without even realizing what I was doing, I walked closer to the stage. Blending in had been easier than I’d thought it would be, so I didn’t see a problem with being more in the open.
A college bar wasn’t exactly the place people would expect me to hang around, after all. Even if a few of them thought I looked like someone they knew, with the amount of alcohol in their system they wouldn’t remember a thing by the morning, and if someone started to take pictures, I would just head out.
My eyes glued to the stage, specifically on Olive, I didn’t see the guy next to me and took an elbow in my side. Grunting in pain, I lowered my baseball cap just to make sure no one could see my entire face. I couldn’t stay there the entire night, but I knew I wasn’t going anywhere until I talked to Olive and made sure she wasn’t pawed by any drunken idiots.
I didn’t trust any of those bastards not to pull anything on her as soon as she was off the stage.
As much as the crowd was getting heated, Olive and her friend seemed to enjoy singing to each other, laughing and smiling the entire time. When they were at the opposite ends of the stage, Olive crooked her finger at her friend and I found myself a few steps closer to the stage.
Damn it, Jason!
When she screamed for mercy, I was right there with her. My phone started buzzing in my pocket. Seeing Megan’s name on the screen, I ignored her call. Suddenly, flustered and angry for some reason, I was about to turn around and leave when I heard someone yell, ‘I’ll give you all the healing you need, all damn night babe!’
Stupid shitfaced bastards.
So, I stayed.
I would drop her home myself. That way I would feel better, knowing she was safe.
When they were finally done with the song, I was more than ready to deck a few guys I had set my eyes on. Dylan would want me too, wouldn’t he?
As soon as Olive got down from the stage, the guy I’d seen when I’d dropped her off at her apartment took her hand and led both the girls to the end of the bar where a few more of their friends were sitting. Heading toward them, I noticed Olive pulling her hand out of his and linking her arm with her friend’s again.
When I was almost by their side, my eyes met with her friend’s—the one she had been on the stage with—and she recognized me at once. Had someone else also recognized me? Taken pictures? Was that why Megan was calling?
When I was standing right behind Olive, her friend’s grin had become too big for her small face.
That one was trouble.
I cleared my throat, but Olive didn’t hear me, not with the stupid blasting music—none of them did. I glanced at her friend, but she was looking anywhere but me.
Sighing, I put my hand on Olive’s waist.
The touch felt familiar—maybe a little too much.
She whirled around, her hair smacking me in the face; it smelled like fruit. Edible.
Fuck me.
Not edible.
Not my little Olive.
When I was safe from the hair attack, she was staring at me with a frown on her face, then she slightly lifted my baseball cap and recognized me at once. Her expression turned from cute fury to a fucking beautiful smile.
It was good to know she knew how to handle strangers touching her: hit them in the face with the hair whip and then frown up at them until they slithered away. My only hope was that they wouldn’t carry her away along with them.