I enter through the side fence, carrying a fruit basket platter from our local grocer.
Aubrey waves when she sees me. CJ’s on her hip running his toy car up and down her arm. He looks like he’s grown since I last saw him. He’s the spitting image of Chance but with Aubrey’s smile.
“Hey, Gabbie,” Chance shouts from behind the grill. “How’s the hangover?”
“Much better.” I smile, though cringing at his choice of name for me. “Your secret concoction did wonders.”
“Well, I am a pro. Made double the batch this morning.”
“Oh really? You had a big night, too?”
“Nah, not me. My mate, Olly, did, though.”
Staring in confusion, I had no clue who he’s talking about until he walks through the back door carrying a bowl of salad. Dressed in black shorts and white Nike sports tank top, our eyes carelessly meet. My mouth falls open, shocked, the same time his head jerks back, muscles rigid, causing him to freeze on the spot.
It’s the arrogant Aussie from last night.
Those green eyes are judging me.
The same as they had done when I was making a fool out of myself outside the Irish pub.
“Here he is… man of the night.” Chance points his spatula toward him. “Olly, meet Gabbie. Olly is staying with us.”
Olly… is that really his name? It never even occurred to me last night to ask such a question. From the moment he spoke, the arrogant bastard irritated me. He was so condescending and opinionated regarding American girls.
Chance is staring at us with confusion, eyes darting back and forth, possibly waiting for a friendly handshake of some sort.
Should I get up, shake his hand, which would be the customary thing to do when introduced to someone?
He watched you vomit over the side rail.
Surely, we’re beyond shaking hands.
My mind begins reliving last night’s events, causing my words to become caught in my throat. I catch him staring at me in bewilderment. I feel the heat rising to my cheeks, praying it isn’t noticeable. Sporting a counterfeit smile, I beg the awkwardness that bathed last night would be transient.
He reaches out his hand, introducing himself, “Oliver Madden.”
Balancing the fruit basket, I reluctantly shake his hand. “Gabriella Carmichael.”
“Nice to meet you… Gabs.”
Chance snickers in the background the same time Aubrey shakes her head in disapproval. I take a seat at the table, wishing a tornado would sweep through and deposit me elsewhere at this precise moment. Since it’s California, an earthquake would be more probable.
“Apparently, Aussies feel compelled to abbreviate people’s names to something that ends with an ‘S,’” Aubrey informs me.
“I prefer to be called Gabriella.”
A smirk spreads across his chiseled face. “We don’t always get what we want, sweetheart.”
Right there.
Yep! One hundred percent asshole from last night.
I wasn’t imagining things.
He isn’t some knight in shining armor saving me from everything unholy.
Aubrey breaks the tension by placing CJ in the highchair beside us, asking me to watch him while she heads back inside. I welcome the distraction, placing a cracker on the tray table and immersing in a conversation about his toy car.
Chance is busy chatting to his sister, Adele, who arrived earlier. Even Pixy is pre-occupied with a pile of grass that obviously looks too good to pass up.
Oliver takes it upon himself to sit across from me, his eyes falling upon me with an expressionless stare. I sense his judgment, his laughter inside his head, and ridiculing of my behavior.
“You’re quiet. Not at all like the opinionated girl I met last night.”
“Yeah,” I say casually, trying not to appear agitated. “I see you’re still the same jerk from last night.”
“Quite the chip on your shoulder. Is it heavy?”
“Look, I was just out to have fun. What you saw… that’s not me. It was just—”
“You being fine?”
If it weren’t for the cocky smirk plastered all over his face, I would have dismissed the way he mocked the word fine.
“Yes. I am fine.”
My cell buzzes on the table. Perfect timing. Thank you, universe. The name Prince Charming appears on the screen only to stop seconds later. Now would not be the time to pick up that call. I retract—the universe is against me.
“So, you’re spoken for by…” He lowers his eyes to read my phone before I snatch it away. “Prince Charming?”
“Yes. No. It’s complicated. Why are you even snooping?”
“It’s hardly snooping if it’s in my view. You didn’t try to hide it the moment it buzzed. It’s almost as if you wanted me to see it,” he comments, continuing his annoying gaze on me. “Aren’t you going to call him back?”
Thankfully, Aubrey returns, stopping our conversation in its tracks.
I offer to help once again, but she demands I sit and relax.
Chance serves, and with all the food placed on the table, we quietly eat until Chance cracks some joke. “So, Olly’s new here, and you’re new here. Maybe you guys should hook up and check out the local sites.”
‘Chance,” Aubrey scolds. “You can’t ask them to hook up.”
“Sorry, I meant catch up.”
I quickly intervene, “I’m kind of busy these days.”
Oliver raises his brow, placing his fork down. “What exactly do you do?”
If it weren’t for everyone at the table waiting for my response, I would have told him to stick his nose into someone else’s business.
“This. That. Stuff,” I mumble, swirling the food around my plate. I crave anything to drink that will make this go away. Surely, that wouldn’t scream alcoholic if I drank two days in a row.
Olly widens his eyes, pursing his lips before muttering beneath his breath, “Sounds interesting.”
“Did you know Olly is an ex-soccer player like Chance?” Aubrey quickly interjects.
That explains his well-maintained physique. The way his arms flex when he held me over the railing. He’s extremely tall, almost a giant compared to
