AllFreeNovel
Share Us
OLIVIER
It’s official. I hate Elodie.
I also hate Trip and Becca and Dom. None of whom will acknowledge my DMs or texts. Leaving me on read, pretending they’ve never heard of me probably. I’m an outcast, and I’m stuck with this red-lipped lunatic who is still trying to move in with me.
Look, I get she doesn’t want to be under lock and key at her parents’ house, but that’s her problem. Not mine. Not yet.
I refuse to fold her into my life until the last possible second, which, I’m still hoping my parents will reconsider. It’s not like any of the times they grounded me ever lasted for the whole week. I just have to be the angel they remember from my childhood. Their perfect little boy. The one who was impossible to stay angry with.
But our daily brunches have been suspended. Maybe they just need a minute to cool off.
The problem with Elodie is that she seems to be buying into the lie. Part of what we do to make our interest in each other known is we go out and have dinner and drinks in public. She talks, and I listen, and my job is to sit there and look charmed, adoring maybe. I’m not sure she doesn’t realize the expressions on my face are for literally everyone but her.
She’s all in, and I can’t help but wonder if maybe this is why she’s been throwing herself at every available man on the Upper East Side since high school—she wants to be married. She wants the family merger—the wealth and the security. Maybe she’s been out here looking for “the one” all along.
But it’s not me.
I mean, I like my women slutty and everything, but some of the shit Elodie hints at in hushed tones over cocktails makes my hair stand on end. Golden showers are one thing, but toe sucking? Armpit licking? Strap-ons? Nope. No thank you. She’s a full-on fetish fest, and I’m just a dude who likes to fuck.
And be choked apparently.
No. Nope. I am not thinking about that again.
Waking up in a jail cell is a low point, but jerking off in front of one’s doorman while coked out of my mind is a rung somehow far below rock bottom.
The cocaine has now left the building. I would have sold it to Trip, but oh well. His loss. It went to the sewers instead.
Drew hasn’t opened the door for me, punched an elevator button, or so much as met my eyes for four nights now.
Not that I blame him. I doubt he wants to see the lingering bruises on my neck that I don’t even bother hiding when I’m coming and going from the building. I wear a scarf once I’m outside and find myself slightly disappointed each morning that I can see the marks he left less and less.
I wouldn’t go so far as to say we shared a moment or anything—it definitely wasn’t that—but it was different and surprisingly erotic. I’ve never been overpowered before. I’ve never been helpless before. I’ve never had my life in anyone else’s hands before. He really could have killed me, and there was something about that edge I found thrilling in a way that both terrified and excited me.
There’s something there. Something I’m curious to explore. I can’t say for sure whether it’s sexual or not, though most things that interest me are. It’s more likely I’m bored, but he really fucking hated me. Like—what was that about? Was I right about him being from Cleveland? Is being from Cleveland really that bad?
“Ollie—you’re not listening again,” Elodie snaps.
“I am. June bride. Oscar de la Renta gown. Honeymoon in Fiji. Noted. All. Fucking. Noted.”
“You have to at least be excited about Fiji. I bet you get freckles, don’t you?”
I glare at her but fix my face immediately.
“Do you have any freckles on your ass?” she asks. And then with a wink adds, “I could lick and see.”
I laugh the fakest laugh. “No fucking way.”
“If you don’t fuck me by the end of the week, Ollie, I’m telling my dad.”
“And what?”
“Daddy wants me happy. You don’t want him backing out of the deal, do you?”
“The deal didn’t involve that.”
She lays both palms on the white tablecloth and takes a steadying breath. “I. Have. Needs.”
Fuck my life.
