Sexy Hart (Sexy Series) (4 page)

~~~~~~~

During the drive home, I gaze out of the window at the passing bright lights and I smile contentedly. I can't stop thinking about Emily. Luke and Tilly bathed her before we left and of course we had to watch just to see her tiny body wriggle under water in the sink. Oliver was fascinated by the clip on her 'was-umbilical cord'/'soon-to-be belly-button'. Funny what men find interesting, it was quite cute.

I'm not quite ready to go home yet - I know it's late but I'd quite like to stay up and have a drink just to round off a perfect day. I interrupt the silence with a suggestion. "So, does anyone fancy going for a night cap? I'm in the mood for another one before bed, can we go to a bar or something?"

"Totally up for that." Oliver responds without hesitation. I wonder if he's delaying going back to Stacy...

"I'm knackered, I fancy just going back and crawling into bed... what about you darling, do you want to go for a drink?" Bea asks Daniel.

"If you want to go to bed, baby, I'm right there with you," he says with a smile.

"Oh god, that's gross,” Oliver says, shaking his head, making me giggle. "Looks like it's just us two then, you alright with that, Clare?"

"Yes, it'll be nice to have a chat over a drink. But... um, will Stacy mind? Do you want to invite her?"

"No, I think it's about time you and I caught up, we haven't done this for ages. And yes, she probably will mind, but I don't have to tell her everything, it's not like we're doing anything wrong. Just friends having a drink."

I smile and agree. I'm looking forward to sitting and relaxing with my old friend again, it has been so long.

"Exactly. You just keep remembering that Oliver, don't lose your friends because your girlfriend is being... well. You know."

"Thank you Beatrice, I am a big boy you know. I was born how many years before you?"

"That's not the point, just don't lose sight of what's important, is all I'm saying."

"Yes, Miss."

We decide to go to the Living Room bar at the 'W' for convenience, and soon Daniel is dropping us outside. We confirm the meeting time for the trip tomorrow and say our goodbyes before making our way inside. It's funny because I can remember Bea calling from LA back in September last year to tell me all about the night she bumped in to Daniel here and it's exactly how I imagined it. I thought that the day we got here, too. I feel like I've stepped inside one of the pages of Bea's life story this holiday.

We order a bottle of red and make our way over to the huge, spiral staircase to sit beneath the stunning, cascading chandelier. We each perch on a bright red chair and Oliver pours the wine.

"To our newest BFF - baby Emily, a great holiday... and not letting anyone spoil our friendship..." he says, surprising me, as he hands me my glass, his head tilted to the side and his face serious.

"Oh... well, yes, to all of that."

"Cheers." We clink glasses and take a sip.

I'm not sure where to go from here... I appreciate what he has toasted to, but unfortunately the damage has already been done. Oliver and I just aren't the same as we used to be. I take a long look at my surroundings as I try to come up with something to say, and I jump as I feel his hand on mine again.

"Clare, please don't be awkward with me."

"Oh, I'm not Oliver..."
Who am I kidding?
"Ugh... okay, I am. It's just... we've always been so close and over the last few months... you know, things have gotten so... strained."

He nods and clutches my hand. "I know. I feel it too and I'm sorry. I won't let that continue. I'm fond of Stacy, I know that's hard to believe because you don't know that side of her, but I really do like her a lot when she's not being an arse." I am listening and trying to think diplomatically, but the bad inside me wants to leg it up to that room and smash her in the face with a vase.
A big, fat, heavy vase. Full of really heavy flowers.

He continues. "But I love you as one of my best friends - very much, you know that. I have been stupid to let our friendship get a battering. I have spoken to Stacy on numerous occasions about her issues with you and it hasn't seemed to work yet - so what I think is best is if we just carry on as normal and let her see that nothing will change between us and that she has nothing to worry about.
Because she doesn't. Does she?"

I look at his face, taking in those temptingly delicious, full lips, his soft perma-stubble and those beautiful eyes.
Get over it, Clare. Of course he's being rhetorical.
"No. Of course not. Nothing at all."

"And what happened the other night..."

"No!" I stop him. "No more, we'll never discuss that again, don't worry about it. We'll just pretend that happened way back when, before you even met Stacy."

He pauses slightly, as if he's going to say something - but changes his mind. And now I really want to know what he would have said.

"Okay."

I smile at him, taking a gulp of my wine and I change the subject. "So! Vegas! I'm so excited!"

"Oh me too, it's going to be great. And what a way to spend your birthday..."

"I know. Did you tell Stacy we're going? Probably wise to give her some notice..." I say in a 'you're going to get in trouble if you didn't' kind of a way.

He laughs and nods, "Yes, I sent her a text message so she can prepare. I'm not in the mood for a screaming match when we get in. Anyway - can we not talk about Stacy right now? It's kind of... exhausting me."

"Really?" I ask, perplexed. "But she's your girlfriend, Oliver, you should want to talk about her every minute of the day..."

"Well, not today. I just want to concentrate on getting you and I back to the way we should be. Okay?" he says softly, affectionately, and I randomly develop a very fast-travelling case of the goose bumps. No idea why.

"Okay, you two can try to get back on track tomorrow."

He nods, empties his glass and begins to refill. "You know, Clare, I haven't seen you with anyone for a while, are you... interested in anyone at the moment?" He sits back in his chair, facing me, looking comfortable.

I shake my head. Apart from a customer that keeps asking me out, there really is no one I'm interested in, and I'm not even interested in him - it's just nice to have the attention.

"No one?" he asks with a frown, and I kind of resent him asking me this question. It's none of his business, and considering he has had sex with me on numerous occasions, he really doesn't need to rub it in that he's never been interested in dating me by trying to get me interested in other people.

"No, Oliver. No one." I say, a little short, a little pissed off - but he'd never know it.

He shakes his head again.
So sorry to disappoint you, Oliver!
"I don't understand, you must have loads of blokes after you, I mean look at you..."

Gah! Now I'm confused. You're complimenting me,
which in turn is embarrassing me, but at the same time you're not interested in me, other than using my vagina for a quick fuck here and there. What do you want from me?

"Stop doing that embarrassed blush thing you
do when anyone pays you a compliment. This is me. You're fucking hot, Clare. You're miles more beautiful than every single woman in this room, and you're probably the nicest person in here, too. If I... if we... if..." he stutters, trying to formulate a sentence to come out in the most acceptable way... "If we weren't... such good friends... and if we were interested in each other in that way - I'd snap you up in a second."

Er... what now?
I stare at Oliver like he's gone crazy. We just don't talk like this. The first part of his little speech... yes, maybe, but that second part about if we
weren't
this and if we
were
that... I mean, even when we have had sex those types of conversations never happen.

"Don't look at me like that, you know what I mean. We
do
have an attraction there so obviously I can appreciate your beauty and elegance and fantastic body and all that..."
blushing, blushing, blushing like a crazy mofo
"but obviously we just wouldn't go there so that's why we aren't together, isn't it?"

This is rhetorical.
For sure. It is... isn't it?
"Uh huh..."
I'll go with it.

"So, I just can't understand, knowing all of those things about you which are clearly openly obvious to any man that talks to you, why you're not with anyone."

I take another large gulp of my wine and shrug. "I don't know... I'm picky, I suppose... you know that about me."

"And there's no one... no one you're kind of... interested in that you can't have?"

What the frugle? (Yes, that’s language control.)
"Um... no? Do you mean someone with a girlfriend or wife?" I'm really struggling to get his point here... is he talking about himself?

"Whatever, someone like that.”

"That's a really weird, specific question, Oliver. But no, I'm not waiting for anyone. I am looking for the right man, someone who has all of the qualities I like and who would be a good dad. I know that seems premature, but it is my goal to have a baby at some point and I'm at the age now where I don't want a boy to mess about with - I want a man, a fun man but a good man. A family man."

He nods and forces the corners of his mouth downwards. "Makes sense. But just so you know, you're too good for a lot of guys. And you're really fucking sexy."

My eyes widen as I stare at him and a giggle escapes me. "Oliver!"

"What? You are! So I may have had a couple of glasses at Til and Luke's house, and I am drinking this pretty fast so I do have boozy mouth, but my boozy mouth always speaks the truth and you know it. Clare Alden is a very, very sexy woman."

I go a little weak at the knees, even though I'm sitting. The room goes a bit blurry and butterflies start violently colliding with organs. My heart might thump right out of my chest and make its way over to the bar for a stiff drink. Now I want to grab him, push him to the floor and sit on him. Yes - sit on him...
him
... right in the centre of this circular platform in full view of everyone. Make crazy love whilst passionately devouring his mouth and tongue. RIGHT. NOW.

"Oh gosh... Oliver..." My voice is wobbly and stupid. I sound like a sexually desperate idiot.

"Clare..." he says, sitting forward and taking my hand, "I think you are perfect."

"What? Oliver! Stop this!"

"No, no. I'm not saying
that
- you and I can’t be together, as we know, but I really do think you are the epitome of perfect. But as much as I know that we won't be together, and that you will make some other lucky man the most incredible wife... I still find you fucking irresistible and I want to peel you out of that soft dress and lick you from head to toe."

I spasm.
Down there. Yes, I am actually on the brink of an orgasm. Is that even possible? Can you have an orgasm just because someone is talking to you? "Oliver... you have a girlfriend, you've never done this before when you have someone, this is so wrong and you shouldn't be saying these things to me."

"I know... but it doesn't mean I don't feel like this. I want to kiss you, I want your tongue in my mouth... uh... fuck, Clare, I want to be inside you," he says as he inches closer.

I take a deep breath and try to ignore this threatening orgasm inconveniently pestering me. "If you feel like that about me right now, Oliver, then that means Stacy is not the one for you. Because you have never felt this way about me with your other girlfriends. We have only ever been 'together' when you and I have both been single."

"Just because I never tried anything when I was with other girls - doesn't mean I didn't think it..."

"That may be so, but you didn't act on it. There is a reason that you are now. Because you and she aren't right together."

"Honestly, if it meant I could do what I want to do with you right now... I would end things this minute."

"But we're never going to be an item - you said it yourself."

"I know that. Doesn't mean I don't want one last, long night with your body next to me... under me... around me."

Holy all that's... holy.

"Um... Oliver..." I just don't know what to say! I've been caught so massively off guard here and I'm feeling a little... well, a little confused.
And horny. Confused and horny and I really can't be doing anything about the horny! "Jesus, Oliver!" I say in exasperation. "What do you want me to say to that? Finish with Stacy? You'd dump a girl you're apparently very 'keen' on - just to do things with me for one night? You brought her to LA for god's sake, you can't just go up there and dump her before crawling into my bed for a few hours and then going back to being 'just friends'. Pardon me for saying this, Ol, but I really
don't
think she is the best match for you. You say you really like this other side to her so why would you jeopardise a potential life partner for one night of silliness with someone you will never end up with?"

He puts his glass down and rests his forehead in his hands, his elbows on his knees. He shakes his head and growls. "Oh god. Clare... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said any of that. I mean it's all true but I shouldn't have put that on you - you're too sweet to have to know all that shit and I'm sorry for putting you in a position whereby you think you have done something wrong. You haven't - I have. I shouldn't have done anything with you, nor said anything to you about wanting you, while I'm with someone else."