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He smiles. “I’m glad I could be there for you.”
“Be there for me?”
“For your first time,” he says. “In a while, I mean. I know you were nervous about getting back out there and let me tell you — as a friend — you might be out of practice, but you are not out of the game.”
I squint in confusion as my chest clenches.
We’re friends. Remember, Paige?
Professional friends.
“Right,” I drawl. “Right. Of course. Because... that’s what this was...”
“And tomorrow night, I think we should go out again,” Oliver says. “Maybe start at the bar downstairs. Or go back to Ryan’s. I’m positive we can find you a Boston Blondie to ride around the block a few times.”
I force myself to breathe. “Maybe...”
Oliver sits up and reaches down to slap my rear. “Ass like this shouldn’t go to waste,” he says as he stands and walks into the bathroom.
I linger on the bed with my mouth agape, though I’m not sure why I’m so surprised.
This is who Oliver Black is.
This is who he’s always been.
He returns after a minute with a damp washcloth. I startle as I feel it touch my back and wipe away the evidence.
“Does that tickle?” he teases.
“No, just...” I push up as he finishes. “Cold.”
I step off the bed in search of my clothes.
“Where are you going?” he asks.
“Uh...” I pull up my panties. I grab my jeans. “I think I’m going to call it a night.”
“Really?”
“Early start tomorrow.” I nearly tumble as I fight my legs into my jeans. “Boston, day two. Big day.” I glance around in search of my sweater. “You should review your notes, too. You have a meeting with Angela at eleven.”
“Paige.”
I ignore him as I scoop my sweater off the floor and throw it on over my head.
“Paige.”
His voice is closer now. “I’m fine, Oliver,” I say.
“I... didn’t ask if you were.”
I turn to face him. Oliver stands a foot away from the bed, still very naked. He extends his hand forward with my bra dangling from one of his outstretched fingers.
I snatch it from him. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he says. “Are you okay?”
“I said, I’m fine.”
