Page 33 of Baby, It’s You (Clairesville #1)

Hunter

O live follows me upstairs to my room and I think about the joke she just made about me thinking about her in bed.

If only she knew how much I actually think about her.

Every time something happens to me, I think, I wish Olive was here.

I know it's wrong, it’s a complete overstep.

She's not mine to have, but damn I wish she was.

Olive asks me a question and it snaps me out of my thoughts. “Did you decorate this place yourself?”

“Yeah, I got a lot of the stuff from thrift stores or furniture stores out of town. I had a lot of fun finding stuff for the house.”

“I would love to do something like that.”

“Your place isn’t decorated how you like?”

I push open my bedroom door and she follows me into the room. She awkwardly stands against the wall, so I motion to my desk chair for her to sit while I search for my wallet. Olive slides into the black swivel chair and continues to talk.

“It is to some extent,” she responds. “My place is tiny, though, so I can’t do much.

Also, there’s this thing called money .” She laughs as she says it, really emphasizing the word.

“The bar doesn’t bring in customers like it used to.

It’s hard for me to run it basically alone now and there’s not a budget to hire on more staff.

The karaoke nights are usually our big money makers each month; they always turn a crowd. ”

“I was going to ask you when the next one is. I want to film some of it for the series.”

“Next Thursday.” Olive smiles at me. “And this time you don’t even have to wear a mask.”

“Are you messing with me, so I’m subjected to another task ?”

“No, I swear.” She giggles. “This time it’s animal print night. Like a safari theme, so I better see a badass printed shirt.”

“I actually do have one of those,” I say with a grin, as I walk to my closet to retrieve it. I dig through and find the cheetah print button-up that Eddie’s twin sister, Leena, got me for my twenty-first birthday. I still haven't worn it. I turn around and show it to Olive.

“That’s perfect!” She claps her hands together. “You can come to the bar a little bit early that night if you want to film some of the quiet before the storm.”

“I am always down to spend more time at the bar,” I tell her, hanging the shirt back in my closet.

I dig through a few drawers, wondering where my wallet could be, before I remember the last time I had it in my hand was when I was in the kitchen this morning.

“I think I know where my wallet is.” I feel like an absolute idiot. “It’s downstairs.”

Olive stands and motions for me to lead the way out of the room. I head down the steps back to the kitchen and open the fridge. Sure enough, my wallet sits on the top shelf, right next to the milk.

“How did that happen?” Olive laughs, peering from behind me.

“I had some drinks in my one hand and my wallet in the other this morning when I was getting stuff out of the fridge. I was in kind of a rush to get out the door, so I guess I tossed my wallet in as I pulled the drinks out.” I glance at her, grinning slightly. “Honestly, I don’t know.”

I run my hand over my eyes. “Alright, let's go.”

Once we get on the road, I start to feel nervous.

Knowing that my friends can be a lot to handle, I hope they don’t scare her away.

Don't get me wrong, they are all nice, but they can be intense. Wes has no filter; he will ask anyone anything without thinking twice. Eddie is a straight shooter; he sees right through people’s intentions.

I just know they are going to grill her with questions and then probably try to make her do a beer bong five minutes later.

I texted them in advance this morning, asking them to take it easy on her. Wes just sent me back a wink and Eddie gave the text a thumbs-up. Whatever those responses mean, they do not instill confidence.

I turn to Olive. “I want to apologize in advance for whatever my friends do today.”

She gives me a funny face. “Are you kidding me? I work at a bar; I can literally handle it all. I’m not afraid of a couple drunk bros.”

“Is that what we are? Bros ?” I laugh. “I think we are more like distinguished gentlemen. I don’t even watch sports.”

She stares at me. “You’re kidding me, right? Wes actually looks like the definition of a bro. He had short shorts and a lacrosse jersey on when you came into the bar for the first time.”

I throw my head back and laugh at that, realizing he did look like a total bro. “He might dress like one sometimes, but he’s not. Except, well, he does sleep with a lot of women so maybe that is bro behavior.”

Olive raises an eyebrow. “Exactly.”

“Well, you got me there.” I’m smiling from ear to ear. “We are just a bunch of bro degenerates.”

“I knew it.” She smirks as we pull up to the lake entrance.

She grabs one of the bags of beef jerky from the truck floor and rips it open. “Why does beef jerky taste so good, but smell like a bag of farts?” she asks, eyes wide.

Laughter consumes me again. Everything she says is always something I don’t expect to come out of her mouth.

“I think it’s just from the spices or dehydration process or something?” I respond.

“I don’t know, but man, it’s good. Just bad for everybody around you while you eat it.”

“I can handle it; you can eat a bag of farts around me any day.”

She holds her hand to her heart. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me,” she says playfully. Then, she shoves a piece in her mouth.

I continue to smile as we turn around the right side of the lake, pulling up to a rocky area where I see Eddie and Wes already set up with a small group. Eddie turns from their game of football, hearing my truck, and waves. I wave back and throw the truck in park.

I turn to Olive just as she leans in and whispers, “Do I spy a few bros playing football?”

I slide even closer to her, our faces just inches apart. “You’re right. The bros are bro-ing.”

I hear her breath hitch as I stay close, keeping our eye contact. She looks down at my mouth, her gaze lingering. I’m not going to be the one to break this moment of intimacy first.

Suddenly, she pulls back as if remembering herself and exclaims, “Great! Let’s go! Introduce me to the group.”

Then, she pops out of the passenger seat and shuts her door. I blow out my own breath and adjust my hat, knowing that my feelings for her are intensifying and there’s nothing I can do now to stop them. The train left the station the first second I laid eyes on her.