Chapter Nineteen
Oliver
We spend the entire day prepping for the party, with Matt interrupting more than helping. After impromptu make-out sessions and a creative blowjob, where he made me continue mixing the cookie dough as he sucked me off under the counter, I’m surprised we got it all done on time.
What’s not surprising? The cookies turned out to be the fluffiest, crunchiest batch I've ever made.
As his friends stream in, Matt patiently introduces me to everyone. Turns out, all of his friends also work in emergency services. The man is dedicated to his work!
Bree, a 911 dispatcher, and her wife, Camilla, a doctor, arrive first. Next, Marcus arrives with his wife, Laura, who is literally a producer on my show.
I freak out a bit, seeing her here across the hall from my apartment.
Even though she’s only slightly older than me, it’s like running into your school principal at the grocery store.
But she enthusiastically hugs me and tells me she's been hearing about my work from Emily for months. I try my best to act like a human.
Matt introduces me to Nick. He and Matt must be gym buddies because the guy has muscles everywhere.
It must come in handy as a detective. He appraises me with intense eyes that have me squirming.
I don’t get the golden retriever energy that Matt described until he nods twice and smiles. Yeah, there it is!
Matt elbows him in the stomach.
“What? I'm your brother. I'm allowed to judge your boyfriend if he’s going to be a part of the family,” he stage whispers.
My face heats up while Matt throws him a serious glare. A weaker man would have cowered.
Elliot, who I impulsively invited while we were at dinner the other day, shows up a few minutes after Nick.
Nick’s smile widens the second he sees him, his whole face smoothing into something way more charming than the goofy grin he’d shot at Matt and me. Elliot assesses him closely, too, but his face turns in a frown, eyes suspicious.
Okay, what’s up with Elliot being a grump now? I mean, he obviously doesn’t need to be excessively nice to Nick, or anyone really. But an outright scowl is definitely not appropriate guest behavior, especially considering this isn’t my party to begin with.
But I’ll let him deal with whatever he’s dealing with, well aware by now that Elliot isn’t the sweet little man he appears to be. And Nick looks like someone who can take care of himself.
Besides, I have a thousand other things to worry about. Like making sure everyone is eating, and ignoring Matt’s come-hither looks.
Finally, one of Matt’s friends arrives with a large tray of Jell-O shots in her hand. Everyone groans on cue when they spot it. Wow, I’m definitely too old to party like that.
I take it to the kitchen and hide it deep under the counter, where Matt keeps the old dishes he doesn’t use anymore. I doubt anyone will come looking for them anytime soon.
Laughter and loud conversations fill the room, and everything smells like cinnamon, butter, and chocolate. The tree we bought is now covered in lights and mismatched ornaments.
Everything looks perfect.
Other than Elliot sitting on a chair in the corner, looking almost nervous now. That scares me a bit. The only expressions I’ve ever seen on his face are smiles, smirks, and anger. So, I pile a small plate with cookies and take the empty chair beside him.
“Hey man, not your scene?” I offer him the plate.
He looks at it for a second before accepting one. “Not feeling all that great today,” he says, his eyes trained in front of us. His posture looks closed off, which is a surprise. Although Elliot was never a people person, he’s great at pretending to be one.
Maybe he’s having an off day. Stop being a judgmental asshole and entertain your only guest, Oliver!
“So how are the patients? The iguana—”
Bree’s loud voice from the couch interrupts me. “We’ve heard so much about you, Oliver! Matt practically never stops talking about you,” she says, grinning widely.
I’m not surprised to find that the Jell-O shots have managed to make their way to the coffee table.
“So, did you like your gift? He made us look all over the city for that book,” she adds.
Yeah, okay. I’m now fully red. Matt looks a little worried on the other side of the room. Not an expression I’d have expected from the words Bree is saying.
Camilla laughs beside her. “He must have loved it, honey. How about we get some food in you?” she suggests, clearly still a bit sober.
“Those damn shots,” Bree mutters.
Camilla nods solemnly.
Nick brings a chair and sits beside me once Camilla takes Bree to the kitchen. Elliot goes back to staring ahead. Sloan is now loudly singing some song I’ve never heard before.
I hear the sound of my phone ringing somewhere in the house. Ugh, where is it? I excuse myself and follow the faint noise.
As I pass Matt’s bedroom, I hear Camilla and Matt whisper screaming at each other.
“Why don't you just tell him? He’ll understand, Matt!” Camilla is saying.
“Just stop, Cami, I can’t right now—” Matt suddenly stops and turns to look right at me. “Oliver?” His voice goes from the devastated near whisper to normal in seconds.
“I was looking for my phone.”
“Let’s look for it.” He places his palm on my back and nudges me out of the room, completely ignoring Camilla.
I glance over my shoulder and find her smiling a small smile, looking at Matt’s hand guiding me.
In the kitchen, Marcus is shuffling through the cabinets. “You don’t have any glasses, man!” he complains.
“Yeah, don’t want you guys to get too comfortable here. I already see your ugly mugs a little too much,” he teases.
“I can get some from my place,” I offer.
“Yes, see? Oliver is a grown, adult man,” Marcus points to Matt.
Matt rolls his eyes.
“I’ll go get them,” I laugh, already making my exit.
I walk outside, closing the door over all the chatter and noise. The hallway feels way too quiet compared to the festive buzz.
I unlock my door and push it open. It's dark inside, which is weird because I always keep a lamp on just in case. Maybe I forgot? I was in a rush when I came back to change before the party.
I shut the door behind me.
As soon as the door closes, a feeling of wrongness hits me like a brick to my face. A chill runs down my spine. Fuck, the events of last week seriously screwed me up!
I roll my eyes and walk to the light switch.
Before I can even find it, a hand yanks me back, and a sharp knife presses against my throat.
“Heard you were looking for me, kid,” a husky voice, barely human, growls in my ears.