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"That's my mom!"
His laugh gets big and hearty. Big enough it wipes the tension from his expression. "You brought it up."
"You brought it up."
He shakes his head uh-uh. Motions to my lips.
"This is not for your benefit."
"I'm the only person you've seen today."
"We're in public." I motion to a young couple walking past us. They glance in our direction. Keep their distance.
"You're scaring them."
"You're scaring them." I push him. "You know I cut my hair so less guys would get that impression."
"The impression you love to suck dick?"
"Excuse you!"
"It's what you said," he says.
"The platinum. It made them think… I guess they watch too much porn."
He nods yeah, I see that. "So this." He reaches out. Brushes a stray hair behind my ear. "Is all because a bunch of assholes thought you'd happily drop to your knees?"
"Kind of."
He smiles, amused. "I like it." His fingers trail my cheek. My chin. "Brings out your eyes. Your jaw. Your neck." He pulls his hand back. "It's sexy."
I swallow hard.
"And it suits you." His eyes bore into mine. "Guess I should find one of those assholes. Thank him."
"Oh my god." I push him again. Harder this time.
He grabs my arm. His fingers curl around my wrist. He looks down at me. For a second, he pauses. Just stares at me.
For a second, I pause. Just stare back at him.
He's so handsome. And so close. And so kissable.
I never thought that about Oliver. But he is.
Sexy and difficult and kissable as fuck.
I suck a breath through my nose. Push an exhale through my teeth.
Jump at the sound of a familiar voice.
"Luna? Is that you?" the voice asks.
Shit.
Oliver turns to face Sean. Ollie shakes his head I hate this asshole. But he smiles. "Sean, good to see you."
I clear my throat. Stand. Move away from the magnetic energy compelling me to kiss Ollie. "It's uh, good to see you."
"Oh, so you and Oliver…" Sean raises a brow. "How interesting. I wouldn't think he's your type."
"Oh, we're just…" I motion to Oliver, asking him to finish my sentence. "We're…"
He smiles at Sean and says. "We're madly in love."
Chapter Fourteen
Luna
Sean forces a smile. "Wow, really. I can't believe it." He offers his hand.
Oliver stands. Shakes with a firm grip. "You look good. You lose weight?" He smiles in a knowing way. Knowing it annoys Sean.
Sean is always trying to get built. Or he was when we were together. I haven't seen him in months. Who knows what he's doing.
In fact—
"What are you doing here?" I ask.
Sean looks at me funny. "Buying furniture."
"Isn't it a little… not your style?" I fail to find a polite way to say we both know you think Ikea is beneath you. Sure, Sean is a yuppie in training, down to the khakis, polo shirt, and single visible tattoo. But he never tires of reminding people his parents could buy theirs.
"My girlfriend loves it," he says.
"Your girlfriend?" Oliver asks.
Sean nods. "She's at the cafe. Grabbing coffee."
"Extra cream and sugar?" I ask.
"Of course." His smile stays forced. His light eyes stay smug. "You going to Patrick's birthday?"
"Huh?" I think Patrick works at the shop.
"He did that, right?" Oliver motions to the tattoo on Sean's forearm. An anchor with carpe diem on the ribbon. "It's pretty badass." He looks at me and raises a brow.
Somehow, that gets across his intention. Patrick sure did what he could with that lame as fuck quote. Are you one hundred percent cliché or just mostly cliché?
I guess Oliver really doesn't like Sean. He's always been a little irritated by Sean. Even when we were dating.
Because of how Sean treats me? Or something else?
There's plenty to hate.
Sean is spoiled, condescending, oblivious to other people's needs.
It's just… he's also handsome, smart, witty, and incredibly charming.
It took a while to realize there wasn't much beyond spoiled rich boy besides spoiled rich boy.
"Yeah. Thanks." Sean smiles. "So how long have you two… you're Daisy's brother, right?"
"Not long enough if you ask me." Oliver slides his arm around my waist. "You know Luna. She's a fucking dream."
"Uh-huh," Sean says.
"It's new," I say. "And, yes, he is. Daisy's at Berkeley. Remember?"
Sean's eyes turn down for a second. He always wanted to go to USC—it's the family school—but he still applied to Berkeley. And he still cursed the UCs for not recognizing his brilliance. "Of course. And how's your semester going? Besides your football team losing to ours?"
"Yeah. Go Bruins." I make a fake rah chant. As much as I love swimming, and participating in competitive swimming, I don't really care about other sports. Especially ones Sean enjoys. "Between my chem lab, European history, and Microeconomic Theory, I'm really busy."
"Really? You're taking an economics class?" He looks at me like I'm crazy.
"Yeah, who would imagine, the woman with a CEO mother might learn about money," Oliver says.
