Page 45 of Oliver
He leaned in to point at something on my tablet, his body subtly positioned between me and the rest of the room.
Between me and Ryan.
I should tell him to stop. This level of protection wasn't part of our arrangement. But his presence steadied me in a way I hadn't expected and desperately needed.
Ryan's laughter boomed again, and my head snapped up instinctively, heart rate spiking. He was closer now, working his way through the crowd toward the center of the terrace. Toward us.
Oliver’s palm found the small of my back, a solid, steady warmth cutting through the ice that climbed up my spine. His voice was low, a quiet command that sent a shiver down my neck.
"Breathe," he murmured, his lips a breath away from my ear, his words smoothing over the jagged edges inside me. "I've got you."
The simple words washed over me like a balm, and I exhaled, slow and uneven.
At some point during the evening, I lost track of Parisa and Darryl. It was the worst timing possible. I was desperate to get away from Ryan’s looming presence, but I couldn’t until they approved the revised floral arrangement.
Then, I spotted Darryl sneaking onto the terrace, a few of his shirt buttons undone, followed shortly by Parisa, her cheeksflushed and dress crumpled. I rolled my eyes and cut through the crowd straight to her.
"Having fun?" Parisa asked when I appeared beside her.
“Not as much fun as you, apparently,” I said, scanning our surroundings before moving to discreetly smooth out her outfit.
“Whoopsie, busted.” She snorted as if she’d said the funniest thing in the world. “LOL.”
I froze, gawking at her. “Did you legit say LOL right now?”
Parisa shrugged. “I’m tipsy and taken care of. You should try it sometime. In fact—” she spun full circle, bleary eyes scanning the room. “Ollie!”
“Pari, shush!” I tried to stop her, I did. But Parisa wasn’t one to give up on a chance to wreak havoc.
“Oliver Beck!”
He materialized out of nowhere, an amused smirk I was starting to know well on his handsome face. It was in his eyes, too, but I still wasn’t sure if he was truly enjoying the mayhem that was my cousin, or if he was that good of an actor.
“Reporting for duty, Your Brideness.” He dipped his head in a mini-bow, and Parisa burst into gleeful giggles.
“Don’t humor her,” I hissed, hoping Oliver’s appearance was enough to make Parisa forget whatever embarrassing thing she wanted to say. No such luck.
“Zazi here is wound too tight.” Parisa grabbed my shoulders and spun me to face Oliver, shoving me at him. His arms wrapped around me, securing me to his chest, and I was too mortified to look up at his face, knowing what the next words out of Parisa’s mouth were going to be. “All work and no play. That just won’t do.” The taps on my head were supposed to be petting, I was sure, but they felt like a hammer pounding the final nail into the coffin I’d need when I died from embarrassment in exactly three seconds. “As her boyfriend, your duty is to…take care of her, if you know what I mean. Make sure she’senjoyingherself.” I peeked up at her from my hideout in Oliver’s shirt just in time to see her wink at him, then scuttle off.
“Dead,” I murmured, still refusing to lift my head. “I want to be dead.”
“Is she always this straightforward, or is it especially for me?” Oliver asked, the cheerful notes dropping now that we were alone.
“She dialed it down for you.” I let out a small huff and straightened, daring to meet his gaze. He looked as shellshocked as I felt. “The alcohol just makes it worse.”
Oliver nodded with a furrow in his brow, as if he were still having trouble reconciling the entire event.
"Hey, Beck!" Ryan's voice carried across the terrace, and this time the fake smile was visibly absent from his gaze. "Remember that time under the bleachers? When you caught me and Zahra?" He winked at the bridesmaids clustered around him. "Talk about awkward timing."
The memory hit me like a punch to the ribs—sharp, breath-stealing.
Junior year. The cold metal of the bleachers at my back. Ryan’s hand on my wrist, his voice a low snarl in my ear.
"You're a tease, Zahra." His grip tightened, his breath hot and sour against my skin. "You think I don’t see the way you lead other guys on? You think I won’t remind them who you belong to?"
I had let him kiss me because it was easier than what would have happened if I didn’t.
I had let him, and all I did was cry in silence.
