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TWENTY-THREE
OCTAVIA
"So glad you could make it." Oakley fist pumps who I assume is Andre and pulls him in for a hug.
Andre is maybe an inch or two shorter than Oakley and truly does live up to the hype appearance-wise. He reeks of Playboy, which is no surprise from what I've heard.
"Dude, I wouldn't miss meeting the girl who managed to tame my best friend." The two guys laugh together. I simply stand back and watch them interact with a small smile.
Oakley seems so at ease in his childhood home, surrounded by the people he loves most.
"Ava, this idiot is Andre," he grins, his hand on my hip. "Andre, this is my girlfriend, Ava."
Andre slowly looks me up and down before sending me a wink. "You forgot to mention that she's a fucking smoke show."
His way too blatant attempt at flirting rubs not only me, but Oakley the wrong way. He steps in front of me, using his body to shield me from Andre's wandering eyes.
"No," Oakley states simply, as overprotective as ever.
Andre's chest shakes with silent laughter. "Woah. Stand down, doggy. I'm harmless, I promise."
Oakley hesitantly moves back to his place beside me. With an arm grips my waist, Oakley presses me against him pointedly. You would think by now he would know he has no competition when it comes to other guys, much less his best friend.
"Damn, girl. Tell me, what's the trick? I'm sure you can already imagine the line-up of girls that would love to know how you did it." His words sound teasing, playful even, but unfortunately, this joke also doesn't sit well with me.
"Andre," Oakley growls as soon as we all sit down in the living room. He pulls me onto his lap, and I fall forcefully onto his thighs, gasping in surprise.
"Oakley," Andre beams, flopping down on the only remaining seat beside Oakley. Does this guy have a death wish or something?
"What do you mean by line-ups of girls?" I ask, my voice low.
Andre's face lights up as he clearly revels in his ability to get under Oakley’s skin.
"Oh, Oakley here has always been quite the hot commodity. Lucky for you, though, he never gave them any attention. Not many of them anyway," he adds and offers Oakley his fist to bump. Oakley just glares at him.
My stomach flips as I get the overwhelming need to punch something. I'm not naive. Obviously, I know Oakley's a catch and that he's been with other people. It just freaking sucks hearing it come out of someone else's mouth. Especially someone as close to him as Andre.
"Don't listen to him, Ava. He wouldn't understand the word relationship if it bit him in his dick," Oakley insists, his grip on my waist tightening. I try to will the overwhelming bad thoughts away, to no avail, as we wait for dinner.
???
"That was delicious, Anne," I say truthfully, patting my now bloated stomach happily.
"Thank you, sweetheart. Will you help me with the dishes?" Her eyes shine with happiness. I nod and start to collect the plates. Once all the dishes are gathered, we start washing. Anne fills the sink with warm soapy water, a light hum filling the peaceful space as I start loading the dishwasher.
"I'm so happy you could make it today," Anne says kindly.
"I'm thrilled to be here. You cook a fabulous turkey." I place a glass bowl on the top rack with a smile.
"You're too sweet." She drops a pair of gravy dishes into the sink. "I heard things didn't exactly go to plan the other day?"
"Yeah, you can say that," I shove a fork harder than necessary into the utensil holder.
"I hope I'm not overstepping here, but I wanted to say that if my son weren’t serious about you, he wouldn't have asked you to come here today. Believe it or not, you're the first girl he's ever brought home to meet me."
That spikes my interest.
"Really? Andre didn't make it seem that way earlier."
