He recoiled a little, and I felt a small sense of satisfaction that I’d deflected his questioning.
“How long were you with him?” I asked, willing the current of our conversation away from Mason.
“…a few months,” Oliver said.
Now he was the one staring at the statue. I waited patiently for him to continue.
“Ten months,” he corrected.
I tightened my grip on my glass. “That’s an eternity in gay time.”
He chuckled a little. “Yeah, I guess so.”
Again, I noticed his upper lip begin to quiver. It was clear that this was affecting him way more than he was letting on.
“So tell me about how much of an asshole he was,” I said with a grin.
When I’d broken up with Narcissist Guy, there was a unique kind of pleasure in meeting up for drinks with all of my friends and complaining about him. They validated me and claimed that none of them even liked him all along, and I felt like I could breathe again for just a moment.
“He was an engineer, and always tried to make it seem like he was better than me because of it,” he said, then took a long sip of his bright pink drink.
I had the urge to point out that someone had treated him the same way he was treating everyone else, but thankfully my filter blocked the words from escaping my mouth.
“What do you mean?” I asked, probing for more information and delighted to keep the subject of our conversation away from Mason.
I crossed my legs under the table.
“He was great at first. Encouraging, loving, kind… but then his true colors started to show. The more successful I got, the more withdrawn he got. Every time I’d share one of my successes with him, he’d have to one-up me with some boring engineering thing that had happened to him.”
“He was threatened,” I concluded.
“I don’t know what his deal was,” Oliver said through gritted teeth. “But as soon as I got the opportunity to come to the Black Castle and be their main costume designer, I knew I had to take it. I knew I had to leave him behind.”
“That couldn’t have been a fun conversation,” I offered.
He smirked. “No, it wasn’t.”
Silence hung in the air again, and he was boring into me with those green eyes. The magnetism was palpable. Something intangible shifted between us.
“You don’t seem too upset about it,” I observed.
“I knew it wasn’t going to go anywhere in my gut,” he said.
I remembered that feeling with Boring Guy — that strong sense that I knew I’d have to break up with him. Though at the time, I wouldn’t let myself even think it, because I knew that I needed the stability and security.
“You don’t need him anymore,” I said, fixing my gaze on his.
He bit his lip. The chemistry between us was undeniable.
That voice in the back of my head that kept screaming at me that Oliver was an arrogant asshole was dulled by the effects of the alcohol.
This time, he was the one to break the gaze as he took another sip.
I felt like I was in over my head, but in control of the conversation at the same time. The feeling was a strange sort of push-and-pull, cycling between a sense of power and anxiety.
“You’re right. I haven’t needed him for a long time. I think we— me and him, both knew that,” he said.
“What was it he was saying about Reese?” I asked. The words escaped from my mouth before I could stop them, sliding out with the lubrication of the liquor.
I wasn’t the only one affected by the strength of the drinks; Oliver’s tan skin was beginning to blush too. It was so strong that even in this dark room surrounded by vines only illuminated by candlelight, I could see it.
He gave a glance around the room, checking to see if anyone was in earshot.
The only other people in the bar were two older women sitting at a table on the other side of the room.
Nevertheless, Oliver lowered his voice and said, “Reese… has sort of a reputation. Only rumors, but they keep coming up.”
I leaned in closer, and my heart began to pick up pace. Maybe that weird vibe I was getting from him in the entrance hall when he asked me to do the sex scene wasn’t entirely unfounded.
“What kind of reputation?” I asked, my eyes focused on Oliver.
The corner of his mouth twitched up as he took another sip. I could tell that he’d been dying to share this secret with someone.
“Rumor has it that Reese and Mason… used to be a thing,” he said.
I swallowed, connecting the dots. Maybe that explained Mason’s response when I asked him if he’d worked with Reese before. He’d said, “once,” but in a heavy way. There was something there.
Oliver took another sip and continued. “And now, Reese is going after Leo, but Leo has a girlfriend.”
I frowned. The image of Reese in my head was starting to distort into something unpleasant, some monster that I didn’t like. I much preferred the respectable, tortured artist persona that I’d made up for him.
Oliver’s drink was almost gone now, and his words were beginning to slur together.
“Well! Here’s a secret that no one knows but me,” he said, puffing out his chest ever so slightly.
I leaned in a little closer, unable to resist.
“His girlfriend is fake!” he proclaimed.
“No way,” I said breathlessly, not daring to believe it.
Suddenly, everything felt like it was falling into place. My mind could now make sense of that crazy chemistry I felt towards Leo— like I was tethered to him by some magic. Slowly, I felt my faith being restored in Hazel’s words.
“Yeah, he pretends to be straight for the fame. I think his girlfriend,” he air-quoted, “is actually a good friend of his or something.”
I was only half-listening as my mind put all of the pieces together. This explained why Alina said she didn’t have much chemistry with Leo. This was why Reese’s hand caressed his shoulder…
“Wait, are Reese and Leo a
