Sinful Ever After - Vivian Wood Page 0,36

moment to adjust my cock so that my erection isn’t obvious. Then I walk out to the main room.

There is little Olivia, sticking her head inside my door. She sucks on her pink bottom lip, her inky dark hair spilling over her shoulder. She is as fucking tempting as ever.

She lays eyes on me and immediately blushes. Her eyes are so perfectly blue as she gazes at me, going wide as soon as she takes every inch of my bare skin in. I have to say, I don't hate the way she is looking at me right now.

And if she was anyone else, I think I would strip the blanket from my body now. But she’s not someone else.

My life would be a lot easier if I could just seem to remember that.

Gritting my teeth, I growl at her. “I said hold on. Fuck, Olivia. I could’ve been naked.”

Guilt flashes over her face. “Sorry! Sorry, I’ll wait outside.” She turns, but I stop her.

“What is it?” I ask, blowing out a breath.

She freezes. I take her in as she slowly turns around, admiring her perky little ass.

“I— I came for your driver’s license,” Olivia says a little breathlessly. She tucks her hair behind her ear. “Megan is at the house, and she said she forgot to ask to scan them last time she was here.”

I roll my eyes. “All right. Come on. I think my wallet is in my bedroom.”

I haul my tired ass back to the bedroom, expecting Olivia to follow. Dragging the blanket on the ground, I make it all the way into my room before I trip over the blanket. That pulls it from around my waist, giving her a brief glimpse of my ass.

“Oops,” I mumble, glancing back to Olivia.

She’s in the doorway, but she isn’t even looking at me. Instead, her eyes are glued on the bottle of lotion and wad of tissues on my bed. Some of the lotion has leaked out onto the bed and the tissues, and it looks bad.

I start trying to explain. “Oh… that’s—”

“I shouldn’t be here,” Olivia blurts out. Her gaze swings over to me, so embarrassed that it looks like she’s going to faint. “It’s your business, not mine! Maybe you can just bring your ID to Megan yourself?”

Then she turns and actually runs to the front door. The screen door bangs as she sprints out of my apartment. I’m left clutching at the blanket around my waist, unsure what I could’ve said to avoid that awkwardness.

Chapter Fourteen

Aiden

I can’t take Olivia to Whiskey Bend like this. Not when she won’t even look at me. So I scroll through the events section of the Seattle Times on my phone, determined to find something to ask her to go to.

A fair is in town. A Seahawks game is scheduled for tonight. Neither of those seem quite right though.

I want to pick something that will clearly be just for her. Something that will say I’m sorry without saying I still want to get in your pants. I scroll through pages of events before I land on one that sounds promising.

The Art of Folded Paper: A Multi-Media Appreciation of Origami

That sounds like straight up nerd talk, which is what I am going for. Plus, it’s in Port Angeles for the week, so I don't even have to drive that far. Sounds like a win-win to me. I go ahead and buy tickets, then I wait outside my apartment for Olivia to come back.

When she does, in a loose white dress with a heavy-looking black bag slung over her shoulder, I pounce.

“I need you to come with me,” I say, rising from my steps.

She narrows her eyes. “Where?”

Shit, I was just anticipating her agreeing to whatever I had in mind. I clear my throat. “To an art thing.”

She crosses her arms. “I don't think that’s a good idea, Aiden.”

Shit, have I already burned that bridge with her? I really hope not.

I try a winning smile. “Come on. I already got tickets. It’s about paper folding or some shit.”

Olivia doesn’t look impressed. “Surely you can find someone else to go with, Aiden. Don’t you have a little black book just bursting with names?”

She starts moving toward her apartment. I’m suddenly in a weird place, out of my depth and in swift moving water. For me to be the desperate one in this situation, the one that needs someone else’s cooperation, seems… backwards.

I walk over to her, grabbing her wrist. “Please, Olive?”

Her eyes have never