it.”
Olivia laughed and slapped him on the shoulder. “Is sex all you think about?”
“Nah. I think about other stuff two percent of the time.” He set her down so he could give her a longer, proper kiss. “Seriously, though. I needed this afternoon. I appreciate you spending it with me.”
“You don’t need to thank me. I want to spend time with you.” Sadness flitted over her face. “I wish the summer could last longer.”
Sammy swallowed hard. They had precious little time left as roommates before Olivia returned to Stanford. It wasn’t a huge deal—Palo Alto was less than an hour’s drive from the city, and they’d agreed to visit each other on the weekends. But he was going to miss seeing her every day. Miss coming home to her, falling asleep and waking up next to her...
Sammy realized with horror that the emotions buffeting him at that moment weren’t new. He’d felt them once before, a near-decade ago, when he’d been head over heels for a girl who’d taken his breath away the first time he saw her. Now here he was, experiencing those same feelings for the same girl, all grown up, except the intensity eclipsed the first time a hundredfold. He supposed he should’ve expected it, considering they were dating again, but he hadn’t expected it to come on this fast or this strong.
Sammy was in love with Olivia again—more than he’d ever been. And he had no clue if she felt the same toward him.
Aw, fuck.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Cheers! You did it, bitch!” Natalie’s eyes sparkled as she clinked her drink against Olivia’s. “They’ll have to make you VP now.”
“It’s not a sure thing yet,” Olivia said humbly, but she was doing cartwheels on the inside. That morning, Michael had called her into his office and informed her that Ty Winstock had officially signed on as a PHC client and that he’d credited part of his decision to her pitch. Michael hadn’t seemed annoyed that Winstock liked Olivia’s short, off-the-cuff pitch more than he’d liked Michael’s presentation; he was just thrilled they’d landed a big fish like Winstock.
“Nuh-uh. None of that false modesty. Own it, babe,” Tamara ordered. “Vice-President Olivia Tang. Sounds good, doesn’t it?”
A grin spread across Olivia’s face. “Yeah. It does.”
Her book club friends erupted in cheers that turned the head of every other patron in the bar. They’d gathered for their weekly happy hour meet-up, which had turned into a mini advance celebration of Olivia’s promotion. Olivia wouldn’t formally be promoted until after she received her MBA, but with the Ty Winstock win under her belt, she was ninety-nine percent sure she had the vice-presidency in the bag.
Kat’s phone rang.
“Don’t think about it,” Olivia said before the brunette could answer. “Put your hands up and back away slowly.”
She could see the caller ID clearly from where she was sitting: Ben. The asshole ex.
She’d bonded hard with her fellow book club members this summer, and she was comfortable enough with them now to tell them what she really thought—and she really thought Ben could go suck a dick.
“But it might be important,” Kat protested.
“The only important thing that man has to say is when he’s getting a vasectomy. God knows we don’t need any mini Bens running around,” Natalie said, direct as always.
Kat frowned. “That’s a horrible thing to say.”
“Horrible words for a horrible person.” Natalie grabbed the phone off the table over Kat’s objections. “Nope. New rule: none of us can check our phones while we’re together. Let’s throw it back to the dinosaur era.”
“I agree.” Donna sipped her drink. “Things were so much simpler before we were glued to our devices.”
“That includes you, Tam.” Natalie nudged the pierced designer, who tapped on her cell like her life depended on it.
“Sorry.” Tamara glanced up with a distracted expression. “I’m texting my girlfriend. I hope you guys don’t mind, but I invited her to join us and she’s bringing a friend. I know happy hour is sacred, but she’s so busy I haven’t seen her in a week, and she’s only a couple of blocks away.”
Olivia shrugged. “I’m fine with it.” The more, the merrier. Hell, she was so happy she wouldn’t object if Tamara invited an entire marching band to join them.
The others chorused their agreement.
Tamara had mentioned her girlfriend a few times before, and Olivia was curious to see what she was like. All she knew was the girlfriend worked some high-powered job that required her to travel often and take meetings at ungodly hours