I CHOOSE NOT to tell my brother about my date with Oliver because, well, I don’t have the guts to. I know he’d try to stop it before it happens. I don’t need him to verbalize that he thinks Oliver is a huge player and isn’t worthy of me. Besides, it’s just one date. Chances are it’ll be a lot less tame than our friends date anyway. In the back of my mind, I’m screaming don’t get attached just yet! But the thing is, it’s Bean. I will forever be attached to him, no matter what happens. I drive to Mia’s place and park my car in the visitor’s spot, where it’ll stay until we get back, then I go upstairs and wait.
“I heard you have a date with Oliver, and from the looks of it, you definitely do. You’re sweating like a whore in church!” Rob says as soon as he sees me. I punch him in the shoulder.
“No I’m not! Oh God, am I?” I head toward the bathroom and look at myself, realizing that he was exaggerating. But, damn. I am nervous. “Why am I so nervous about this? And where is Meep?”
“She’s in the shower, and you’re nervous because this is your first date together. I mean, real date. Shenanigans don’t count.” He raises a blonde eyebrow and laughs when I glare at him.
“I need a drink,” I announce, heading to the kitchen.
“No, you don’t. You need to sit and relax and be still. You’re going to give me a heart attack!”
“Stop being a pest,” I mutter, plopping down on the couch.
“Okay, but on your date, do not sit like that. Nothing is more gross than a careless sitter in a dress.”
My eyes widen, and I cross my legs, sitting upright. “Damn you. Maybe I should have worn jeans.”
Robert laughs, throwing his head back. He looks so much like Mia when he does that. “I was joking! Geez, you really are nervous.”
“Who’s nervous?” Mia asks, walking over to us.
“Jitterbug over here is acting like a virgin going to prom,” Rob says, earning a laugh from me, and a look from Mia.
“Way to lay it all out there,” I say.
“She looks fine,” Mia says walking over to me. “It’s just Bean.”
“Exactly. It’s just Bean . . . do I look okay?”
Mia gives me a once-over and nods. “You look beautiful, like you do every other day, when you wear make-up and brush your hair and dress up.”
“Meaning not like every other day?”
“Well, you have to save beauty for special occasions, Chicken.”
“Bitch,” I say, laughing until the knock on the door swallows my smile.
“Ohh here he comes,” Rob starts singing like he was singing Man Eater, and I want to crawl into a hole and die. Mia swings the door open and whistles loudly.
“Looks like somebody wants to get laid tonight,” she announces.
And this time, for real, I want to crawl into a hole and die. I can feel my face burning as I walk to the door and tell Mia and Robert to shut up. Oliver is wearing dark jeans, black shoes, a gray button-down, and a fedora on his head. It’s simple and hot, and it matches the gray dress I’m wearing, so I have to laugh.
“It’s like they’re meant to be!” Rob states loudly. “They match! This is too fucking cute! Mia! Get the camera!”
“I hate you.” I say, looking at him. “I hate you.” I say, turning to Mia’s face, red from laughing. “I don’t hate you . . . yet.” I say, turning to Oliver, who gives me a slow, cocky half grin that makes me melt a little.
“Please have her home by midnight, and make sure she lays off the vodka,” As Mia starts rattling off her list, she stops to look at my blushing face and bursts out laughing. “Awww . . . I’m sorry, Elle, this is so cute though. You haven’t been this nervous since you lost your virginity to Hunter Grayson.” She stops laughing and turns to Oliver with a serious face. “All jokes aside, if you hurt her again, I will fucking murder you, and I’m not talking about a nice quiet murder, I’m talking dick cut off, internal organs everywhere kind of murder. So please, be mindful of that.”
“Okay, time to go,” I say, pulling Oliver’s arm out the door. “Some people have officially lost their marbles.”
Oliver is doubled over in laughter as we walk down the stairs, so he has to stop every so often to catch his breath. I can’t even turn to look at him because I’m so embarrassed. And I shouldn’t even be embarrassed! We ALL grew up together! This is absolutely ridiculous. When we get to his car, he wipes a tear from his eye as he opens the door for me. I don’t even look at him when he gets in. I just stare straight ahead. But then he gets quiet, and his hand reaches for mine on my lap. He squeezes it gently, to get my attention.
“Hey,” he says quietly, his eyes smiling.
“I’m glad you enjoyed the show. We’ll be here all week,” I mumble, making him chuckle. He brings my hand to his lips and brushes against it. I shiver at the feel of his scruff prickling over it.
“They mean well,” he says, kissing my hand. “You look beautiful. I’m so happy I finally agreed to go on this date with you.”
That makes me laugh. “Really? Were you being hounded relentlessly?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe,” he says, raising his eyebrows. “It’s been exhausting having to dodge your advances.”
I finally sigh and get comfortable in my seat. Oliver has a way of making me feel at ease in one moment. His fingers brush my knee and I jolt. And completely electrified the next.
“So, where are you taking me?” I ask, turning my face to look at him. He smiles, looking straight ahead.
“If I tell you, it would ruin the surprise aspect of the date.”
“We’re not going to dinner and a movie, are we?” I say, biting back a laugh when he shoots me a look.
“Do I look that dull to you?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Where do you normally take your dates?”
His gaze cuts to mine again. “To eat.”
“And . . . that’s it?” I ask, a little unimpressed.
“Well, that’s not it, but I don’t think you want to talk about that any more than I want to talk about Hunter Grayson.”
I look away, smiling. “Fair enough.”
“Unless, of course, you want to talk about Hunter Grayson,” he says, as he parks the car in the marina.
“I’d rather not,” I say, feeling my cheeks flush. Hunter is still a friend of mine, and we each did a pretty good job at burying the memories of the night we had together.
Oliver turns his body to face me and runs the back of his hand down my cheek to my neck, his eyes on mine the entire time. “I’m really glad we’re doing this.”
I smile softly, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze. “Me too.”
He drops his hand, gets out of the car and, while I gather my purse, he comes around to open the door for me. We walk a couple of steps before his hand closes over mine, and he threads our fingers together. It’s such a small gesture, but it sets my pulse on fire.
“We’re going on a boat?” I ask when we walk past the restaurant there and head toward the vessels.
“Not quite,” he says. “Maybe next time.” He tilts his head to look down at me, and I feel the warmth of his smile curl through me.
We walk up to the edge of a dock, where there’s a table set up. The floor around it is scattered in candles and it’s completely desolate, except for the server standing beside it with a champagne bottle in his hands and a smile on his face.
“Mario, good to see you again,” Oliver says, dropping my hand and offering it to the server.
“Pleasure is all mine, Dr. Hart,” he says with a hint of a Spanish accent, smiling and nodding as he takes the hand he’s being offered and shakes it.
“This is Estelle,” Oliver says. “Elle, this is Mario.”
“Pleased to meet you,” I say, offering him my hand as well. Once we’re settled in our seats, Mario pours us some champagne, hands us a menu, and tells us he’ll be back. My eyes scan everything again—the candles, the table, the boats, the sun that’s still setting over the ocean in the distance—and finally, I look up at Oliver’s handsome face.