“Why?” He raises his brows like he’s surprised I’ve asked. “Maybe it’s because you’rewonderful, Blair.” But there’s a teasing, taunting edge in his voice that makes me almost certain it isn’t that. Before I can say as much, however, he goes on with wicked humor, “Or maybe because it’s a wonder you haven’t earned Rook’s wrath by now. A wonder that you didn’t leaveafter that first day. A wonder that you sucked down that much coffee and nearlymissedthe trash can during your slam dunk.”
I grimace at the memory, hating how he’d looked at me with sympathy and his gorgeous green eyes. God, I love his eyes. “That’s a weird reason,” I mutter, but he just chuckles and pulls me tighter to him.
“Maybe to you. But I like it. Are you sure you want to stay, Blair? You really don’t seem like you’re having a good time.”
“What makes you say that?” With Oliver, I’m having a great fucking time.
“I found you on a staircase on the quiet side of the house, completely avoiding anyone else that’s here during a frat party. Tipsy, but probably a little closer todrunk,” Oliver points out skeptically. “I don’t drink, and I’m sure Juniper wouldn’t mind if I took you home. Especially if that’s whatyouwant.” His other hand comes up to smooth back my hair again, and I barely realize that he’s still asking if I want to leave.
I’m too busy trying not to swoon for him. Still, I can’t help but lean into his touch, and when I do, his eyes narrow, darkening.
Shit.
Shit.
Awareness slams into me, and I sit back, eyes widening. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, and I know you’re just being friendly—”
“Blair.” His voice is rough, and lower than I’ve ever heard it before. “Let’s get something straight. If I were just trying to be nice…” He leans closer to me, until he’s just as close as he was yesterday when he’d been helping me get rid of my coffee. “I would’ve taken you back to Juniper.” His voice is almost a purr when he says it, and he’s so close that I can feel his breath on my lips.
“Yeah?” I breathe, wide eyes not leaving his. “Then what are you doing, Oliver?”
“Trying to decide if you’re too drunk to be kissed.”
Anticipation courses through me, and I reach out to grip his shirt. “I’ve suddenly never been so sober in my life,” I lie, drawing a soft chuckle from him.
“That’s just not true. And we both know it.” He doesn’t move away, and it’s torture having him this close to me with him teasing me about the thing I want so badly in this moment. “I’m not going to do something you might regret later, wonder girl. I’d never put you in that position.”
“You’re not,” I assure him. “Oliver, I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with you for a week—” I break off, hating the way I’d phrased that. “I mean… that I’ve been interested in-in being more than friends, if that’s something you want. But I’m not very good at—”
“And here I was thinking you fell for me yesterday when I showed you my sucking game,” he cuts me off smoothly, sweetly, and a grin pulls at his lips. “Do you promise, Blair, that you want this with or without the beer?”
“Yes,” I promise him, all my thoughts are just blurs zipping around between my ears. “Oliver, Iswear—”
I don’t get the chance to finish whatever it is I’mswearingto him. He closes the distance between our mouths, catching me up in a hard kiss. His arm tightens, pulling me against him as his mouth coaxes mine open slowly. He’s patient, and sweet, though I can feel the intensity burning under his skin as he holds me in an iron grip and explores my mouth at a suddenly frenzied pace.
And then the guilt sets in.
I’mlyingto him. I haven’t told him that I know he’s a camboy. I haven’t told him I’mfinalistgirl.
I’m lying to him, even if it’s just a lie by omission. But it’s not alright, in my mind, and every moment he kisses me and I haven’t told him is another moment I feel like dying.
“Wait,” I whisper against him, repeating the word when he nips my lip instead of complying. When I say it once more, he jerks back, eyes searching mine as they widen with concern. His arm slips free, and he moves to pull away from me, as if he doesn’t want to touch me at all.
“What?” he asks, concern etched in his face. “What’s wrong, Blair? Did I hurt you?Fuck,I shouldn’t be kissing you after you’ve been drinking—”
“That’s not it,” I promise, too nervous to reach out and touch him. “I need to tell you something. I…I’ve been lying to you, and it’s not okay.” I lick my lips anxiously, not looking at him. Will he be upset? Will he be angry with me for not telling him sooner?
Will he walk away and not want to be myanythinganymore?
“What’s wrong?” Oliver urges, leaning in close again. “Blair, what have you been lying about? You look like I’m about to kill you or something.”
“No, I—” He leans in again but my hand flies up to press against his chest. “If I don’t tell you this, then I’ll always worry you hate me, Oliver.”
“Okay?” he sounds bemused more than anything.
I take a deep breath, try to will myself to sobriety and say slowly, so I know I’m not mixing up my words, “I know you’re a streamer. And I know you’reletsplayjay,because I’ve watched you before. I’m sorry.”
He doesn’t reply at first. Oliver just watches me, and it’s not until I look up into his searching gaze that his smirk curves up over his lips again. “I know.” He chuckles, shocking me to my core. “I know you know…finalistgirl.”