To Love Jason Thorn (15 page)

Without even realizing what I was doing, I
walked closer to the stage. Blending in had been easier than I’d thought it
would be, so I didn’t see a problem with being more in the open.

A college bar wasn’t exactly the place
people would expect me to hang around, after all. Even if a few of them thought
I looked like someone they knew, with the amount of alcohol in their system
they wouldn’t remember a thing by the morning, and if someone started to take
pictures, I would just head out.

My eyes glued to the stage, specifically on
Olive, I didn’t see the guy next to me and took an elbow in my side. Grunting
in pain, I lowered my baseball cap just to make sure no one could see my entire
face. I couldn’t stay there the entire night, but I knew I wasn’t going
anywhere until I talked to Olive and made sure she wasn’t pawed by any drunken
idiots.

I didn’t trust any of those bastards not to
pull anything on her as soon as she was off the stage.

As much as the crowd was getting heated,
Olive and her friend seemed to enjoy singing to each other, laughing and
smiling the entire time. When they were at the opposite ends of the stage,
Olive crooked her finger at her friend and I found myself a few steps closer to
the stage.

Damn it, Jason!

When she screamed for mercy, I was right
there with her. My phone started buzzing in my pocket. Seeing Megan’s name on
the screen, I ignored her call. Suddenly, flustered and angry for some reason,
I was about to turn around and leave when I heard someone yell, ‘I’ll give you
all the healing you need, all damn night babe!’

Stupid shitfaced bastards.

So, I stayed.

I would drop her home myself. That way I
would feel better, knowing she was safe.

When they were finally done with the song,
I was more than ready to deck a few guys I had set my eyes on. Dylan would want
me too, wouldn’t he?

As soon as Olive got down from the stage,
the guy I’d seen when I’d dropped her off at her apartment took her hand and led
both the girls to the end of the bar where a few more of their friends were
sitting. Heading toward them, I noticed Olive pulling her hand out of his and
linking her arm with her friend’s again.

When I was almost by their side, my eyes
met with her friend’s—the one she had been on the stage with—and she recognized
me at once. Had someone else also recognized me? Taken pictures? Was that why
Megan was calling?

When I was standing right behind Olive, her
friend’s grin had become too big for her small face.

That one was trouble.

I cleared my throat, but Olive didn’t hear
me, not with the stupid blasting music—none of them did. I glanced at her
friend, but she was looking anywhere but me.

Sighing, I put my hand on Olive’s waist.

The touch felt familiar—maybe a little too
much.

She whirled around, her hair smacking me in
the face; it smelled like fruit. Edible.

Fuck me.

Not edible.

Not my little Olive.

When I was safe from the hair attack, she
was staring at me with a frown on her face, then she slightly lifted my baseball
cap and recognized me at once. Her expression turned from cute fury to a
fucking beautiful smile.

It was good to know she knew how to handle
strangers touching her: hit them in the face with the hair whip and then frown
up at them until they slithered away. My only hope was that they wouldn’t carry
her away along with them.

“Jason!” She beamed up at me and threw
herself in my arms, trusting me to catch her.

Grunting at the unexpected weight, I had to
take a step back to steady us. Laughing, I nudged her chin up from where it was
buried in my chest.

“You smell soooo good,” she slurred
slightly. “Did you come to see big Olive? I’m not so little any more, am I,
Jason? You saw that, right?”

She looked so vulnerable and hopeful that I
had a hard time finding the right words to speak.

My hand acting on its own, I cradled her
face and watched her close her eyes for two seconds then softly open them up to
gaze right back into mine.

“No. I guess you’re not that little any more,
my little Olive.”

She scrunched up her nose. “You’re still
calling me little.” Shaking her head, she said, “You need sooo much help with
finding the right nicknames. You always did.”

Laughing, I leaned down to her ear and asked,
“Do I, now? Would you like to volunteer to help me on that front?”

She nodded eagerly, her smile blooming
again.

It was damn impossible not to smile down at
her.

For a moment, we stood there glancing at
each other and my smile slowly melted away.

I was doing something wrong.

I was
feeling
something wrong.

Then thankfully, her friend was there,
clearing her throat as she put a hand on Olive’s back.

“Lucy,” Olive yelled over the music
excitedly as she steadied herself against my chest and saw her friend.

She was definitely a little drunk.

I wanted to tug her closer.

Lucy smiled at her. “Maybe you should let
Jason take you home before somebody recognizes him here. People seems to be
looking your way,” she added, looking at me apologetically.

I glanced around and sure enough, there
were a few people close by, whispering as they kept their eyes on us.

“I should?” Olive asked.

“You definitely should,” Lucy repeated,
patting her arm.

“Okay,” agreed Olive and turned to face me.
“You should take you home before somebody recognizes me, Jason.”

I smiled. “Okay, let’s get you home then,
you little drunk.” My eyes fixed on her lips, I reached up and wiped the
moisture away, dragging her mouth open slightly.

She bit down on her lip where I had just
touched her.

Holding back a groan, I looked at her
friend. “Thank you, Lucy. I’m sorry if I intruded upon your night. I was just
worried about her.”

“It’s okay. We can do this any time, and
she’s already on her way over to a major hangover, better we cut her off now.
She is a lightweight.”

I could see that, and for some reason, I
preferred a lightweight Olive to a heavy drinker. Nodding, I gripped Olive’s
hand to steer her away from her friends, but her other friend, Charlotte
stopped us.

“Here,” she said, handing me a key over
Lucy’s shoulder. “Olive doesn’t have one on her.”

“Char, I love you,” Olive exclaimed, and
pushing Lucy out of the way, gave her friend a big hug.

“Hey,” Lucy yelled.

“I love you, too, Olive.” Charlotte laughed
a little stiffly. “I’ll see you back at the house.”

She nodded and came back to my side,
holding her hand out just like she had done when she was only ten years old.

The memory hit me in the back of the head
out of nowhere. When Dylan and I had found her sitting on the school steps, she
was silently crying because some kid had made fun of the burn scars on her mom’s
arms. While Dylan had flown up the steps to find the little shit who had upset
his sister, Olive had simply held out her hand, silently asking me to stay with
her.

My eyes on her upturned hand, my mind stuck
in a memory I hadn’t even been aware I remembered, I reached for it, just like
I’d done years before, and held on tight.

I felt more eyes on me, so I looked to
Lucy’s left and saw the guy, Marcus, sizing me up with a not-so-happy look on
his face.

Ignoring him and saying goodbye to her
friends again, I pulled Olive out of the bar and onto the street.

Clean air.

When we reached the black SUV, Olive
suddenly stopped. I looked back at her.

“What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick?”

“No.” She squinted her eyes. “I don’t think
so. Where is your car?” She looked to her right and left, trying to spot my
Spyder.

“I didn’t take the Spyder out tonight, that
would be too telling. Come on, this is mine, too.”

“Oh, man,” she groaned, her face crestfallen
as she started petting the car. “This monster is yours, too? How many cars do
you have?”

“Five,” I answered, amused at her tone.

She groaned louder and her shoulders
slumped, but she didn’t object when I unlocked the door and helped her in.

“You’re getting farther and farther away
from me, Jason Thorn,” she mumbled as I was trying to buckle her in.

Misunderstanding her meaning, I laughed and
said, “That’s because you are drunk. I’m right here. Let’s get you to your bed
so you can sleep it off.”

“Let’s,” she murmured, right before I
gently closed the door.

***

Our drive to her apartment was quiet as she
dozed off in the passenger seat. I parked the car in front of the building and
jumped out to help her down before she fell on her face. When I slowly opened
the passenger side door, she was still sleeping. I was considering whether I
should carry her upstairs or if that would be pushing it when some jackass drove
by us and someone leaned out the window and shouted something at us.

Fucking idiot.

Olive’s eyes opened with a small frown.

“Jason?” she asked, her voice all drowsy
and sexy.

Shit!

“Yeah, it’s me, sweetheart. Can you walk if
I help you?”

Her face still confused, she almost toppled
down the seat when she tried to take a step out into thin air.

“Whoa, easy there,” I said, gripping her
waist. Her dress had ridden up and it seemed insistent on flashing me her white
lacy underwear. “O-kay. I think it’s way past your bed time, Olive. How about
you give me a little help so I can get you up while you are still intact.”

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her
eyes half closed.

I locked the car, sneaked my arm around her
waist, and half carried her up to their apartment as she hung on to me.

When we were finally inside, I had trouble
locating the light switch and eventually gave up on it altogether. Fuck
eyesight, especially when my friend’s sister was almost half-naked in my arms.

“Olive? Are you awake enough to tell me
which room is yours?”

“Huh?”

“Sweetheart,” I mumbled, taking her weight
as she rested her head against my chest. I gripped her chin and tilted her head
up. Her eyes opened.

“Jason.” She looked at me as if she was
seeing me for the first time. There was that smile again.

“Hi there,” I said, brushing away her bangs
from her face.

She put both of her hands on my chest and
hiccupped. “Hi.”

I chuckled and held her up as her knees
buckled. Regaining her balance, she looked around for a moment then turned her
huge eyes at me. “What are you doing in here?”

“Came to drop you off. Can you show me your
room?”

She lifted her hand and pointed to her
left.

“Where are Lucy and Charlotte?”

“They’re still back at the bar, remember? People
were starting to notice me so I had to leave with you. I’m sure they’ll be here
soon enough.”

She half shrugged and yawned through the
motion.

We entered her room and I stopped short. This
was her room? Just a bed against the wall? Not that she had any space for
anything else, but still. Glancing to my right, I saw a small dresser in the
corner, but that sad piece of furniture didn’t even count.

“Sorry,” she said in a small voice. I had
no idea how she’d guessed where my thoughts were, but she hit it right on the nose.
“Considering where you live, this apartment”—she gestured to her room with her
hand—“this room must look very small to you.”

“Come on,” I said, ignoring her words. As
soon as I lowered her on the bed, she grunted and fell to her side.

“Can you put my legs on the bed? Please? I
don’t think I have it in me to lift my arms and get undressed.”

“Believe me, that’s good news for me,” I
muttered quietly and kneeled next to her bed. I didn’t think it would be wise
of me to deal with a half-naked Olive. Pulling the high heels off of her feet,
I gently gripped her ankles and lifted them up.

Either way, she didn’t need to get
undressed; her legs were right there for all to see. As if that wasn’t enough
torture, she stretched her arms, groaned, and started to turn her hips this way
and that way, causing her dress to shimmy up. Leaning over her, I pulled the
edge of her dress down a little and my knuckles caressed the soft skin of her
thighs.

A soft moan escaped her lips and I froze. I
was fascinated by the goose bumps that had appeared on her legs after the small
contact. While I was distracted by that soft moan and her legs, she chose
exactly that moment to flip onto her stomach and hug her pillow.