Page 24 of Scars of Anatomy

Sabotage

I lean against the brick exterior of The Library, watching my breath mingle with the cold November air. Shoving my hands into the pockets of my leather jacket, I observe all the cars coming and going, anxiously waiting for Olivia’s car to pull into the parking lot.

Six more minutes.

Knowing Olivia, she’s probably going to arrive at eight on the dot, not wanting to spend any more time here than she has to or scared that she’ll beat me here and have to sit in her car awkwardly waiting for me.

Originally, I wanted to pick her up from her house and drive here together, but she refused.

She wanted to drive herself, and as much as I hate it, I have to give her props.

She’s a smart girl; I should have known she’d come up with a foolproof escape plan in case things go south. Not that I plan on letting them.

At 7:58 p.m. I finally spot her little white Mazda turn into the parking lot and find the closest spot available. I jog up to her car then open the door for her.

“Hey, Finch,” I greet her, suddenly riddled with excitement and anticipation.

“Hey.” She gives me a timid smile, pulling her keys out of the ignition. I can tell she’s nervous.

I extend my hand to her, and she takes it. Once I help her out of the car, I close the door for her and she locks it with the key fob, sliding her keys into the pocket of her white puffy coat.

I let my eyes roam over her, my heartbeat kicking up a notch.

Her hair is thrown up in a high ponytail, slightly teased, and what I can see of her outfit under her winter coat is a black pair of jeans with a pair of short heeled boots.

She also has on a light application of makeup— mascara and eyeliner, which make her brown eyes pop—something I’ve never seen her wear before.

And even though she looks beautiful in simple, casual clothing, I have to admit this is a nice change of pace. She looks phenomenal.

I can’t wait to see what’s under the jacket.

I give her hand a reassuring squeeze and lead her to the main entrance. “Ready?”

She looks at me nervously, giving me a stiff nod that says otherwise.

When we get to the front door, the bouncer checks our IDs before letting us in the dimly lit club. Inside the music is thumping, as strobe lights and lasers dance across the walls to the beat of the music.

“This way,” I instruct her, yelling over the loud music.

With her hand still in mine, I pull her through the crowd to the back of the club, finding my teammates already occupying a large seating area.

“Miller!” Brennen beams, spotting me first. Then the rest of the team bursts out in greeting.

“Hey, guys. This is Olivia,” I introduce her, pulling her to my side.

She gives a shy smile, and they greet her warmly.

JC pops up from his seat, beer in hand. “Hey, Liv,” he says with a fond smile.

She genuinely smiles back, probably relieved to see another familiar face. “Hey, how have you been?”

I remember JC mentioning that she was his physics lab partner last year.

Trusting that he’s not going to make any moves on her, I saunter a few feet over to Chase and some of our other teammates to let the two of them catch up briefly, not wanting to breathe down her neck.

But I stay close enough to make her feel secure.

“Holy shit,” Chase hisses. “She actually came?”

I shrug, a huge smile on my face.

Chase shakes his head in disbelief. He may or may not have heard some of my nervous rambling about whether she was going to show or not. “I for sure thought she would bail on your ass.”

“Nah,” I say, more confident now than I was a few hours ago. I knew deep down Olivia would never stand me up, but still, I’d be lying if I said a part of me wasn’t worried.

Realizing Olivia and JC’s conversation is tapering off, I make my way back over to her. Shrugging off my jacket, I drape it over the back of a nearby chair, motioning for Olivia to do the same.

Slowly, she grabs the zipper of her coat and drags it down. Once it’s all the way unzipped, she slips it off her shoulders, revealing a high-neck black halter top of some sort that makes my breathing falter.

I take her in, marveling at her fair, smooth skin in the dim light of the club. She looks so delicate, so feminine, so perfect that all I want to do is drag my lips across her bare shoulder to the small sliver of collarbone showing, up to the long, smooth lines of her neck.

Fuck.

I swear, any girl could come up to me right now with less clothing and I wouldn’t be nearly as impressed.

Swallowing thickly, I reach for her coat, deliberately letting my fingers graze hers, and set it on top of mine.

I take a step toward her, leaning in to ask if she wants to grab something to drink, my hand reaching around to rest on her back, but I freeze as soon as my hand lands on a smooth, warm span of skin.

All blood flow to my brain seizes momentarily, my hand soaking in the feel of her soft, bare skin. A tingle runs up my arm and down my spine, and I struggle to form a coherent sentence. I clear my throat, my voice still gruff. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“I’ll take a water.”

I raise a brow. “That’s all?”

She gives me a sheepish smile. “I don’t drink,” she admits.

I nod once. “I respect that. Do you want to stay here or come to the bar with me?”

She looks over my shoulder at all of the football players warily. “I’ll come with you.”

I suppress a smile, knowing she’s still racked with nerves and isn’t quite comfortable enough for me to leave her yet. Not that I want to. At all.

“Come on.” I extend my hand to her and lace our fingers together, leading her over to the crowded bar.

We stand there, trying to fight our way up to the counter to place our order.

As soon as a small opening becomes available, I urge Olivia forward.

She slots herself between two people and leans against the bar.

I’m right behind her, my front pressed against her back.

I reach forward, resting my hands on the edge of the bar to bracket my arms round her, protecting her from the crowd.

I scan the staff behind the bar, and luckily my eyes lock with Toby from the basketball team. He grins, holding up an index finger to me before grabbing three shot glasses and disappearing to the other end of the bar. He’s back in a flash, taking our orders.

“Two waters,” I tell him, holding up my index and middle finger to signal to him.

He quirks a brow. “Two waters?” he repeats quizzically, knowing I usually order a beer or a round of shots for the guys.

“Two waters,” I confirm.

“You got it, man.” He disappears to grab us two waters.

Olivia cranes her neck to look back at me. “You can drink if you want to, Bronx. Don’t let me stop you from having fun.”

I shake my head. “I’m fine. You’re here, that’s all I need.”

She gives me a soft, appreciative look before turning back around, her attention focused on the hustle and bustle of the staff while mine is focused on the rather large patch of her skin on full display for my greedy eyes.

I observe the soft, smooth lines of her back, realizing now that the back of her top has a decently sized cutout, a delicate bow tied at the back of her neck to hold the front up.

What I also realize is that with this shirt she’s not wearing a bra.

Fuck me .

Damn it, Finch.

Clearing my throat, I take a step back so I’m not plastered up against her anymore, not wanting her to possibly feel anything and be scared off, but I keep my hands still firmly planted around her on the bar.

Toby comes back with two plastic cups filled with ice water. I immediately take a large gulp, needing to cool down.

“Want to dance?” I ask Olivia.

She looks at the packed dance floor hesitantly, nervously nibbling at her bottom lip. “Maybe in a little bit?”

I nod. I get it. Baby steps.

“All right, Finch. ’Cause you know you’re going to have to dance with me at some point tonight, right?” I grin.

She lets out a light laugh. “I figured.”

We wander back over to the team and take a seat on one of the couches, making light conversation.

In no time girls flock over to our section, finding their favorite player to try to shoot their shot.

A couple of girls take a seat next to me, trying to strike up a conversation, but I pay them no mind.

Even with my hand resting on Olivia’s knee, none of them really seem to get the hint that I’m not interested.

Some of them even full out acknowledge my hand on Olivia’s leg, giving her a rude, sideways glance, and making my blood boil.

By the time a fifth girl approaches me I’m thoroughly annoyed, and I can tell Olivia is extremely uncomfortable with all the unsolicited attention.

Fed up, I stand, plucking O livia’s water from her hand and setting it next to mine on a table where Brennen has his feet kicked up, talking to some random chick giving him googly eyes.

“Watch these,” I instruct him, and he gives me a thumbs-up, flashing me his infamous pearly whites.

I turn back to Olivia, finding her also standing, alarmed.

“Dance with me.” I grab her hand and lead her to the dance floor before she can protest.

Brushing past people, I pull her through the crowd to the middle of the dance floor. Finding some space, I turn around to face her and put my hands on her hips, moving to the beat of the music thumping through the speakers.

She hardly even sways, her body strung tight as her eyes dart around the club.

“What’s wrong?” I yell over the music.

“Everyone’s looking at us.” I don’t exactly hear her soft voice over the loud music, but I’m able to read her lips.

I give the room a quick once-over, noting that many people are indeed staring at us, but I’ll be damned if I let them ruin our night.

“No one’s looking,” I lie.

“You’re looking,” she whispers, shyly looking away from me and down at her feet.