Tangled with you, p.4
Tangled With You, page 4
Or maybe Ollie was freaking about the possibility of Nikki and Jamie and Damien and Ryan finding out. But so what? They wouldn’t care. They loved him. Except maybe for Damien. And he couldn’t imagine it impacting his job, but if it did, there were others. His parents might be surprised, but they loved him, too. All they wanted was for him to be happy.
And with every day that went by, Ollie was more and more convinced that at the core of it, his happiness and Trevor were inextricably intertwined.
That, of course, was why he’d almost protested when Trevor said that he ought to go home. But what would have been the point? He’d already told Trevor nothing was happening. So, what? Trevor would have crashed there, and Ollie would have spent the night wishing that his friend would slide over from his side of the bed so that Ollie could finally have a taste of what he’d been fantasizing about for months. Because despite all his justifying, Ollie wasn’t ready to make the first move.
He should have, though. He should have leaned in with that whole pizza thing. Instead, he’d freaked.
Seriously, he was a fucking coward.
Or maybe he wasn’t. Maybe Trevor wasn’t what he wanted. Maybe this was just Ollie’s psyche finally putting his relationship with Courtney to rest. Because even though it had been years since they totally pulled the plug, he hadn’t dated anyone seriously since Courtney had told him she was done being a ping-pong ball in the off-again/on-again relationship Ollie had been steering.
Fair enough.
God knew, Ollie had been a shit. He liked Courtney. Hell, he loved her. But every time they got close to the wedding, he’d gotten cold feet. Because maybe he didn’t love her enough. Maybe he didn’t love her like that.
He couldn’t blame her for finally tossing her hands up. She’d put up with him for longer than he deserved, and the way he’d bounced her around was at the very top of his list of lifelong regrets.
That, and not asking Trevor to stay.
Because, yeah, he wanted Trevor. And trying to convince himself otherwise was ridiculously, fucking stupid.
Shit.
The realization slammed through his head with such force that there was no denying it. Despite the talk on the balcony, once they’d settled down for the movie, that’s what he’d expected. Maybe not sex, but something.
And, come on, let’s be honest, he’d expected sex. Especially once he’d seen the way Trevor looked at him after the movie. Like Ollie was the secret surprise in the cereal box.
Still, he could hardly blame Trevor for going home, especially after how Ollie had freaked out about the damn pizza.
Ollie was an idiot. Not only that, but he was an unfair one, too. He owed Trevor the truth. Not the bullshit we can be friends even though you’re attracted to me truth, but the real truth. The truth that Ollie was attracted right back. And he was just too confused or scared or unsure to do anything about it.
He’d spent his whole life thinking he was going to find a woman. Get married. Follow his parents’ path. Then he met Trevor and everything shifted. How did he deal with that?
For that matter, could he trust that? What if the attraction was some sort of emotional and sexual rebound from the fiasco that was Courtney? He didn’t want to hurt Trevor like he’d hurt her.
And now you’re really being arrogant, McKee. He’s attracted to you, sure. But that doesn’t mean wedding bells. You’ve slept with friends before. Look at Jamie. You’re both fine. You even joke about it. Pursuing whatever this is with Trevor doesn’t mean your whole life is going to flip. It doesn’t mean a massive identity crisis. It just means you’re hot for the guy. And, yeah, unexpected, but real. So why not pursue it? You can still be friends. You know you can.
Maybe.
Or maybe he was justifying.
He was definitely thinking about it too much. Because right then he needed to go to sleep, but his head just kept spinning and he was so damn tired of these whirling thoughts filling his brain.
Apparently, identity crises were a pain in the butt.
With a sigh, he forced himself to just be still. To let sleep come to him. To think soothing thoughts. Like the fact that no matter what, he’d see Trevor tomorrow because Ollie had insisted he take an Uber home, which meant that Ollie had the keys to Trevor’s BMW. He’d take it over in the morning, and in the light of day, all this angst would seem stupid and pointless.
Or, at least, he hoped it would.
Chapter Four
Ollie was up at the crack of dawn, the thought of seeing Trevor again having not only prodded him awake, but also made him hurry though his morning routine.
Then he realized it was only eight on a Sunday morning, and probably a little too early to be dropping by. Which was why he spent the morning catching up on work emails and attaching cabinet doors in the kitchen.
He managed to occupy himself that way until ten, then showered, grabbed the keys he’d confiscated from Trevor, and headed to the front door, intending to put Trevor’s BMW through its paces as he hauled ass toward Venice.
The moment he opened the door, he saw Cassidy Cunningham on the porch, her hand raised to ring the bell. They both jumped in surprise.
“Sorry. Didn’t expect you to be right there,” Cassidy said. Her hair was blue today with a few streaks of pink. It fell in waves just below her shoulders, and blended with the wildly colorful tattoo of an exotic bird that dominated her upper arm. “Do you have a sec or are you heading out?”
“Both,” he said, holding the door open and gesturing for her to come in. “I was going out, but I’m not in a hurry. What’s up?”
“I come bearing gifts,” she said, stepping over the threshold as she passed him a small, blue gift bag, tied with red twine. “I just opened a third franchise, this one in Long Beach, and the first two are raking in a nice little profit. Plus, I wanted to see how your place is coming along.”
A tattoo artist, Cass had started her career with one successful parlor in Venice Beach, not far from where Trevor shared a condo with Leah. A few years ago, when Ollie was still practicing law, he’d helped her franchise the business. “You didn’t have to do this,” he said, holding up the bag.
“I know. But I wanted to. It’s just a token,” she added as he tugged off the ribbon and peered inside.
“A token? Cass, this is awesome.” He pulled out the small, blue-green bowl with free-form sides that gave the impression of the sea in motion.
“I have a friend who does blown glass work. It’s a thank you and a housewarming gift.”
“I have the perfect place.” He led her to the fireplace and put it at the center of the mantle. “It even matches the wall. Not yet,” he added, pointing to the slash of blue. “But when I finish painting.”
“It’s coming along, though,” she said. “The place is huge.”
“It’s not as big as it looks from the outside. The illusion of building on a hill with multiple stories. But it’s got three bedrooms and an office, so a decent size.”
“Just you living here?”
For one awkward moment, a vision of Trevor hanging out in the living area reading a magazine popped into his head. He felt his cheeks heat and hoped that Cass didn’t notice. “Yeah. Just me.”
“I miss working with you,” she said as he started to lead her on the tour. “But Jeff is great. Do you still keep in touch?”
“Every now and then.” Jeffery Slade had been a summer associate assigned to Ollie the year that Nikki had moved to Los Angeles. He’d accepted the offer to join Bender, Twain & McGuire after he finished law school, and he and Ollie had worked together for about a year before Ollie moved to the firm’s New York office and, ultimately, left for the FBI. “He’s a good guy. Really sharp.”
He took her all the way down to the lowest level that had been designed as a den, but that he was using as office space, then they moved upward, treading over the decrepit flooring, then moving past his fully finished bedroom and bath to the still-in-disrepair guest rooms.
“It’s going to be great,” she told him when they’d come full circle to the living area.
“It will,” he agreed, though the walk-through had only reiterated to him just how unfinished and empty the house still was.
Once again, Trevor filled his head.
Once again, he pushed the thoughts away.
He cleared his throat. “So how are things with you and Siobhan?”
She made a face, and he winced.
“Sorry. Touchy subject? I thought you two were back together.”
“Apparently that depends on Siobhan’s mood and whether Mars is in retrograde.” There was a harshness to her voice, and she waved a hand, as if pushing her thoughts away. “We’re done for good. Honestly, I think she’s Ollie and I’m Courtney.”
He grimaced. “On again, off again?”
“Sorry, dude, but yeah. We were even engaged like you and Courtney were. And now we’re permanently off. I don’t care if she comes back naked on a barge bearing boxes of chocolate, I’m not going through that again.”
“What happened?” The truth was, he’d never been certain why he’d put poor Courtney through so much. They enjoyed each other, laughed all the time, the sex was good, and they never lacked for conversation. Basically, she was perfect for him, and he’d asked her to marry him. Because that was what people did.
Except every time it got down to the wire, he choked. He’d push the wedding date, or he’d actually break up with her, though they inevitably got back together. And then, finally, Courtney’d had enough. She walked, and it had ripped him to shreds.
Except he still wasn’t sure if he’d been devastated from losing the woman he loved or if he hadn’t truly loved her, and the fact that he’d been an asshole to keep her dangling for years was what had twisted his gut.
Bullshit, McKee.
He knew the answer. He hadn’t loved her. Not like that, anyway. But she’d been safe and familiar. She’d been exactly what a man in his position was supposed to have. And so, he’d grabbed hold, held tight, and kept her trapped for too long.
God, he’d been a shit.
“I’m sorry,” he said, both to Cass and to the ghost of Courtney.
“Thanks, but it’s okay,” Cass said. “Siobhan and I had some good times, and I think she’s great. But she couldn’t get past her dad’s reaction to her being with a woman. So now I’ve locked the door tight. My heart can only take so much, right? I mean, in the end, you have to figure out who you want to be with.”
Yeah. You damn sure did. “And who do you want to be with?”
“Haven’t found her yet. But when I do, I’ll know.” Her eyes narrowed. “Are we just catching up, or is there something you want to talk about?”
He shook his head. “No. Nothing. Just thinking about what a shit I was to Courtney.”
“You’re definitely not winning any awards over that relationship.”
“Yeah, I fucked up.”
“At least you know it. But the hard truth is that she wasn’t your lobster. We just need to find our lobsters.”
She wasn’t wrong. But what if he’d already found the damn lobster, but was too scared to hold on?
* * * *
A few hours later, Ollie shifted from foot to foot as he stood outside Trevor’s condo, working up the nerve to ring the bell. He considered simply leaving a note saying that he’d left the BMW in the building’s garage. But then there was the question of the keys.
And the fact that he was being a total coward.
Just do it.
He did, and he could hear the echo of the chime through the closed door. What seemed like an eternity passed, then he heard the click of the lock, and he held his breath as the door opened, then let it out again when he saw who was standing on the other side of the threshold.
Leah.
“Hey,” he said. “I figured you’d be at work today.”
It was an idiotic thing to say, primarily because it screamed subtext: I was hoping to be alone with Trevor.
“Switched with Mario. What’s up?” She leaned casually against the doorjamb, looking for all the world like a woman without a single clue why he was there.
He cleared his throat.
She lifted an eyebrow.
He passed her the key. “I brought Trev’s Beemer over. It’s in the garage.”
“Cool. I’ll let him know.”
“Is he here? I was hoping to talk to him, too.”
“Were you?”
The tension slipped out of his body, replaced by irritation. “What the fuck, Leah? Why the attitude?”
Her brows rose almost to her bangs, a style she’d switched to recently, with the rest of her hair brushing her shoulders. The look suited her, even when she was clearly irritated. “You’re really asking me that?”
“Yeah. I’m standing here in the hallway, and I’m asking you that.”
She blew out a noisy breath. “Trevor’s out for a jog. Just give him a call later.”
“Dammit, Leah, I—”
“For god’s sake, Ollie, are you truly that dense? You’re making him crazy.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, come on. He’s totally hot for you. You’ve got a major boner for him. Just go for it, already. Fuck him and see if you like it. Or if you just can’t deal and that’s never going to happen, then tell him so. Then you two can slide back into the friend zone, but that is not where you are now.”
“Wait, wait. Hold on. We talked about that yesterday. We said we were rewinding.”
“Oh, please.” Her voice practically dripped with exasperation, and she stood back, holding the door open for him to enter.
He hesitated, but then sucked it up and stepped into the danger zone.
“So you’re in third grade now?” she continued, closing the door behind him. He heard the whirr of the door’s autolock underscoring her words. “You want to explain to me how you just snap your fingers and make all that go away? Did that work for you? You’re happily swimming in the just friends vibe now? Is the water warm?”
Ollie pressed two fingers to the bridge of his nose. She was right. Rewind? Not even possible. He sighed. “You’re kind of a pain in the ass, you know.”
“I get that a lot. I’m protective of my friends, and he’s at the top of the list. You’re high up, too. If the situation were flipped, he’d be the one I was lecturing. God knows I’ve called him out enough for being an asshole.”
“But today I’m the asshole.”
“Oh, yeah. Big time.” She crossed her arms over her chest, then leaned against the wall in the entry area. “Except you’re not. Not really. You’re just confused. So screw your head on straight and make good choices, okay?”
Ollie opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again.
“What?”
“You’re a good friend. To Trevor and to me.”
She grinned. “Love you, too.” She cocked her head toward the living area. “Want coffee while you wait?”
Everything that had tightened inside him since she’d started ragging on him relaxed. “Yeah. That would be—”
He didn’t finish the thought because he heard the distinctive beep of the code being entered into the front door’s keypad lock.
“And that’s my cue,” Leah said, wiggling her fingers as she scooted out of the entryway. “Catch you later. And good luck,” she added with a wink.
Ollie watched her go, then turned back in time to see the door open and Trevor stop short. “Ollie. I didn’t know you were here.”
He’d obviously been on a long run. A small towel hung around his neck, and his skin glistened. A plain white tee was plastered to his chest, highlighting his pecs. A tiny bead of sweat trickled down his temple, and Ollie had to fight the almost overwhelming urge to lick it away.
Rewind, indeed.
“I, uh, brought your car back. It’s in the garage.”
“Great. Thanks.” He shifted his weight from one foot to another, drawing Ollie’s attention to the damp running shorts that left very little to the imagination—and at the same time had his imagination firing in ways he’d never before experienced.
Ollie forced his attention back to Trevor’s face as something soft but demanding fluttered in his chest.
Trevor tilted his head to one side, his brow furrowing. “So, do you want to hang? Or do you need a ride back to your place?”
“Actually, a ride would be great.” He could hear his pulse pounding in his ears, so loud it drowned almost everything else out. Everything except his nerves. “But first there’s something I meant to give you last night.”
“Yeah?” He pulled the small towel from around his shoulders and mopped his face. “I’m intrigued.”
“Me, too,” Ollie said. And before he could talk himself out of it, he took two long steps forward, slid his fingers into Trevor’s damp hair to cup his head, then pulled him close and kissed him.
Chapter Five
God, it felt like heaven.
Trevor’s hair brushing his fingers, Trevor’s lips firm against his own. Ollie could hear his pulse pounding in his ears, and he was so lost in a haze of desire that it drowned out everything else, including the reality that Trevor wasn’t kissing him back.
Trevor wasn’t kissing him back.
A frisson of ice-cold terror shot through Ollie. Fear that he’d completely miscalculated. That Trevor truly did want to just rewind back to friends. And now Ollie had gone and set them up for ruin all over again.
But that thought faded as quickly as it had come because in the space of a heartbeat, Trevor went from rigid ice to bone-melting heat. His lips parted, and his tongue teased a low moan from Ollie, then a gasp as the kiss became deeper. Wilder.
Their mouths melded together in a passionate kiss that left them both panting for air. Trevor tasted like toothpaste, sweet and minty, and as they moved together in perfect harmony all other thoughts faded away from Ollie’s mind except for one—this moment was perfection.
