Page 62 of Wreckage of Me
“He can taste me on your tongue now, too.”
21
Becca
“Areyou going to tell me what that was about?” Oliver lets out a big sigh after he puts the car in park in my driveway.
The day had started so well. He came to pick me up for this get-together at Emily’s father’s house. I wasn’t sure if it would be appropriate to ask him to go with me. But I was having lunch with him in the cafeteria when Emily stopped by.
“Lunch will be served at twelve thirty in the afternoon, and not a second later,” she informed me. “So you guys should plan on getting there around noon.” She looked at Oliver when she said it, which only prompted him to ask what that was all about. It all led to me explaining the whole thing to him, then him saying he’d be at my house at eleven thirty in the morning to pick me up.
Now, it is the day of, and nothing went the way I thought it would. For one, he grabbed my hand right before we walked in. I wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable with it, but it did feel off, like we’re both trying too hard to look like a couple.
Running into Dylan at Emily’s father’s house threw me for a loop. That was the very last thing I expected to happen.
And what happened after is just…
“Becca.” Oliver’s voice cuts into my wayward thoughts.
“I’m sorry, I…”
I have no idea what to say. I am so embarrassed by the way I just allowed Dylan to drag me out of the room. Not to mention, the way I did not put up a fight when he pushed me up against the door and fucked my brains out. Again. It’s like he’s got this power over me that I can’t resist.
“How long were you with him?” Oliver asks with disdain in his voice.
“Uh, not long,” I mumble as I’m fidgeting in the passenger seat of the fancy sports car he picked me up in. “We weren’t actually together,” I add after an uncomfortable moment of silence. We just…” God, what do I say? We just hooked up a few times?
“So it wasn’t serious then?”
“No,” I assure him. “Not at all.” I am so relieved he’s not just writing me off.
“He looked pretty pissed to see you with me,” Oliver says, looking at me thoughtfully. I feel like he’s analyzing every word and reaction I may have in connection to anything Dylan related.
“I think that, uh, he was just as surprised to see me there as I was to see him,” I fumble my way through an explanation.
“Is that why he fucked you in Jon Stewart’s home office? Because he was surprised?”
I have no idea what shocks me more right now. If it is what Oliver just said or the way he said it. Most likely, a combination of both.
“Oliver,” I start, my voice hitching in the back of my throat. My heart is beating out of my chest, and I feel like I’m about to have a panic attack.
“We’ve been going out for a couple of weeks now, right?” Oliver asks for confirmation, but doesn’t expect me to say anything. “During this time, I took you out a solid four times, right?” I nod only because I can’t force myself to form any words.
I watch in fascination as Oliver turns his head to stare out through the windshield.
“We fooled around a couple of times…” He continues talking in a pensive tone.
We did fool around after our third and fourth date. No sex, but there was heavy kissing and petting involved. But I couldn’t make myself go all the way with him, and he seemed to respect that.
“So you were going out with me while fucking him behind my back?” I jump at the sharp tone of his voice.
“Oliver, that’s not how it is, or was, has been, whatever,” I wave my hands around in distress, “at all!”
“How do you explain today then, Becca?”
I am in complete shock over the situation I have found myself in.
“I don’t know, Oliver,” I throw myself against the seat of his car, fighting back tears. “And how do you know about what happened in that office?”
