Summer of Love

Chapter 12

Oliver

Oliver and Declan were lounging by the pool the next day when Maeve finally approached him.

She looked anxious, and Oliver knew what was coming.

He wasn’t dreading it any more – his date with Imogen had gone surprisingly well, and he thought his spot on the show was secure for now.

‘Can we have a chat, Oliver?’

The two of them settled onto a daybed, the cameras on them in moments.

Maeve drew her knees to her chest protectively.

He saved her the trouble of explaining.

‘It’s okay. I know that you want to break things off.’

At her confused look, he continued, ‘Declan told me.’

She frowned.

‘I didn’t mean for him to tell you.

I’m sorry if he bungled it.’

‘Shockingly, he didn’t.’

He paused, putting his hand over hers.

‘Hey, I’m not upset.

I’m happy for you and Jack, truly.’

She chewed on her lip.

‘We’re not… I wanted to talk to you about it first.’

‘I’m flattered that you wanted to tell me first. Well, second,’ he amended.

‘Oh, by the way, I told Niall, so Stella likely knows too. And Imogen knows, I think. So, only half the villa.’ He grinned.

Meave groaned. ‘Oh God. I’ve been so mean to Imogen, for absolutely no reason other than I fancy Jack.’

‘I’m sure she’ll forgive you,’ Oliver said.

‘Are you going to talk to him now?’

‘Yes,’ she said firmly, as though trying to convince herself.

‘I have to now, don’t I?

Made my bed, and all that.’

‘Why are you so nervous?’

‘Well, he could look at me like I’m mad, or say that I’m too serious for him, or…’

She broke off, looking at him earnestly.

‘We’re an odd pair, aren’t we?

He’s an amateur stand-up comedian and I’m the least funny person I know.’

Oliver put a bracing hand on her shoulder.

‘Pretend he’s an octogenarian,’ he said solemnly.

She gave a bark of laughter.

‘What?’

‘Like when you give presentations at work, treat it like that. Talk to Jack like you would to them, and pretend he’s asleep.’

Maeve looked caught between anxiety and amusement.

‘Don’t you think that’s more likely to make him think I’m a nutter who has nothing in common with him?’

He considered it for a moment.

‘Better an honest nutter than the alternative.’

‘Thanks for the pep talk,’ she said drily.

‘I’m not sure it was altogether helpful, but it’s certainly given me something to think about.’

‘That’s what I’m here for.

Now, go and get him.’

He made a shooing motion and she stood, walking over to Jack.

Oliver watched her go for a moment, the cameraman following, before lying back.

‘All right?’ Declan asked, his shadow casting over Oliver.

‘Yeah, fine,’ Oliver replied blandly, glad for the distraction.

‘Do you want to watch Maeve try to tell Jack that she fancies him? Could be entertaining.’

‘’Course,’ Declan said, sitting beside him.

They watched as the cameraman trained his lens on the nook where Maeve and Jack had disappeared.

Looking across the garden at the different couples, Oliver felt untethered.

The show had been supposed to be a way for him to get back on track with Sophie, but instead it was confusing him, taking the things he had thought he’d wanted and muddling them.

He wanted to curl into a ball, but settled for turning to Declan.

Looking into his eyes, Oliver felt more grounded.

‘You’ll find someone else,’ Declan said lightly.

‘It’s not that,’ he said, struggling with how to explain.

‘I think I’m starting to recognise why I’ve been so unhappy the past few months.

From here, it’s easy to see that I’ve made a mess of things.’

Declan said nothing, but there was a slight tic in his jaw.

‘Everything I built in London was for a life with someone who no longer wants to be in it, and instead of making it mine, I’ve been chasing down the next thing.’

Oddly, saying it didn’t hurt; it felt matter-of-fact.

He understood now what Sophie had said to him the night she’d left.

He could conceptualise loving someone and still feeling suffocated by them.

Maybe he too had felt suffocated, but more slowly, the weight in his chest not registering as anything abnormal until he felt its absence.

He continued: ‘I didn’t know how to handle a break-up.

Pathetic, huh, to finally be figuring this angsty teenage shit out at my age?’

The back of Declan’s head was framed by a halo of sunlight.

‘If that’s pathetic,’ he said finally, his expression pensive, ‘I’m pathetic too.

I’ve never been through a break-up.’

He paused. ‘I’ve never even been in love before.’

‘Can’t commit to one woman?’

Oliver teased.

Declan studied Oliver’s hands.

‘It’s not as though I have tons of free time for dating, what with training and press and all.’

It was Declan’s usual excuse.

Oliver couldn’t help but add wryly, ‘And dating in the public eye certainly isn’t easy.’

Declan nodded, thoughtful.

‘People think they’re entitled to know everything about me – that they get to judge me and tell me who I am.’

He frowned. ‘Though I’m grateful for all of the opportunities boxing has given me.’

The line had a rehearsed quality.

Oliver wanted to ask more, but he didn’t know how to get Declan to answer as himself rather than as a character constructed for the audience.

Sometimes he worried he couldn’t even tell the difference.

‘But, you know, it’s lonely,’ Declan said, softer and with a look Oliver recognised intimately.

‘Yeah,’ Oliver said quietly.

‘I get that.’

‘You had someone constantly around for eight years,’ Declan said, with a rueful smile.

‘It’s not exactly the same.’

Oliver pushed his hair back, sighing.

‘When I was a kid, I was always alone. I felt like I would never escape it.’

Declan looked at him, his expression soft.

‘But when I started dancing, I saw a way out. I made a plan.’

Declan seemed lost in his own world, his brow furrowed.

‘Oh,’ was all he said.

‘It worked,’ Oliver said.

‘I know it’s supposed to be stupid to run away from your problems, but it worked for me.

I haven’t been lonely since.’

He remembered the weeks of confining himself to his apartment, of shutting everyone out.

‘Except, I guess, recently.’

‘Well, you can’t run away now,’ Declan said.

‘You’re stuck with me.’

‘Only for a few more weeks,’ Oliver said lightly.

‘Then I’m moving to New York.’

He liked the sound of it, decisive, on his tongue.

‘Wow,’ Declan said, and it looked for once like he was struggling to keep his expression impassive.

‘New York. That’s far.

I mean, that’s a massive decision.’

Oliver swallowed, thrown off by having to explain himself.

It was hard to believe that there were still parts of him that Declan didn’t know.

Somehow, without him noticing, he’d come to regard Declan with the same intimacy he did his mates back home.

‘It’s hardly even a decision at this point – if I get the role, I’ll go.

You don’t turn down Manhattan Ballet, and it’s been a dream of mine since I was a kid.

London, then New York.

That’s always been the plan.’

The plan had been cemented when twelve-year-old Oliver, tired of pretending to fit in with his schoolmates who bullied him mercilessly over dancing, had seen a flyer for Manhattan Ballet on the wall after a lesson.

Declan made a noise in the back of his throat.

‘But plans can change.’

‘My plans don’t,’ Oliver said automatically.

With his plan, Oliver had found every good thing he’d ever had.

With his plan, he didn’t need to be paralysed in the face of everyday decisions.

Declan turned towards the sky.

‘Uh-huh.’

Oliver felt a pang of annoyance at Declan’s disinterest. ‘You can’t tell me you’ve had this much success without any strategy.’

‘No strategy,’ Declan said, his tone clipped.

‘Just talent, hard work and all that.’

‘Right.’ He couldn’t see Declan’s expression, but he could imagine him with that closed-off look again.

‘It’s all down to what my dad’s done for me.’

Declan surprised him by turning back towards him.

His face was impossible to read, but he was offering it to Oliver nonetheless.

‘So, no, there’s no plan – just winning matches, trying to make him proud.’

He thought he understood things better now – Declan’s dedication to boxing was an extension of his intense loyalty.

His whole life was a series of favours to the people he loved, and somehow he still felt like it wasn’t enough.

Brian crossed in front of them and Oliver was startled by the reminder that they were being recorded.

He fleetingly thought of Paige’s suggestion to ask about Declan’s future boxing prospects, but something made Oliver decide against it.

There was a beat of silence.

‘You should think about New York,’ Declan said finally.

Oliver laughed, surprised by the earnest advice.

‘I can’t stop thinking about it, so I’ve got that bit covered.’

‘I mean,’ Declan said, more impatiently, ‘that you should actually think about it. As a possibility, not as the only one.’

‘Fine, sure.’ He thought it presumptuous for Declan to have any reaction other than encouragement.

‘Is that why you don’t have any plans?

Too busy thinking everything through carefully?’

‘I do have a plan. Falling in love is my plan,’ Declan said gruffly.

Whatever glimpse of the real Declan he thought he’d seen was gone now, and Oliver found himself tiring of their conversation.

He rolled over to search for Jack and Maeve, only to see them emerging from the nook.

Jack spotted them and made for the daybed with Maeve on his arm.

‘You’ve been holding out on me, King!’

he boomed.

‘Oh,’ Declan said, going red.

He shot an accusing look at Maeve.

‘You told him I knew?’

Maeve laughed.

‘I told him he was the last to know, thanks to the two of you.’

‘Well done, you,’ Oliver chimed in.

Jack clapped him on the back.

‘Good man. Stole your girl and you’re congratulating me!’

‘She was freely given.’

‘I’m not cattle!’

Maeve said, indignant.

‘What are you going to do about Imogen?’ Declan asked.

As Jack seemed to remember Imogen’s existence, Darcy’s voice came over the loudspeaker.

‘Lovers, it’s time to shake things up.’

‘That can’t be good,’ Declan muttered.

‘Get ready to meet by the firepit in one hour,’ Darcy continued, ‘whether you like it shaken or stirred. Hopefully, you live to die another day.’

Oliver cleared his throat.

‘Well, that’s cheery.’

An hour later, everyone was gathered except for Darcy.

Paige ceased the hushed conversation she was having through her headset and stepped forwards.

‘Darcy is running a bit late. Can you line up in couples?’

The contestants shuffled around the firepit, pairing off.

Maeve turned to Oliver anxiously.

‘Are you worried?’

His racing heart said yes, but he tried to give her a steady smile.

‘It’ll be fine.’

‘Brian,’ Paige called, ‘could you get those establishing shots now? Oliver, a word?’

Paige guided him out of earshot of the other contestants and began rubbing her temples.

‘What have I told you?’

‘Er, I’m great and people love me?’

he tried.

She gave him a beleaguered look.

‘I’m on your side, and you need to be honest with me?

Ring any bells?’

He rocked on his heels.

‘I have been honest.’

‘Yeah? It didn’t seem pertinent to mention you’re moving to New York and getting back together with Sophie?’

she asked, her eyes narrowing.

‘That’s n—’ he started.

She held up a hand, cutting him off.

‘Even if I believed you, the audience isn’t that stupid.

It won’t make it into the episode, but promise me you won’t mention New York again.

Someone will make the connection, and the viewers won’t be pleased.’

‘Would you let me explain?’ Oliver asked, annoyed.

‘I’ve wanted to dance for Manhattan Ballet since I was twelve.

Just because she did it first doesn’t mean I have to give it up.’

‘Uh-huh,’ Paige said.

‘So you two aren’t getting back together?’

He cleared his throat awkwardly.

‘Well, um, nothing is decided.’

‘Oliver,’ she said, sighing, ‘it really doesn’t matter to me.

I’m just asking you to not utter the words “New York” on camera again, okay?’

‘Okay,’ he agreed.

‘Sorry.’

She gave him a tired nod as Darcy finally stormed onto the set in silver stilettos and a garish floral wrap dress.

‘Let’s get this party started,’ she said, in the least party-starting voice possible, levelling a stare across the line of contestants.

‘We’re all set,’ Paige said, shooing a PA over to mic her as Oliver went to stand by Maeve.

As soon as Darcy was mic’d, she turned to the contestants.

‘Roll!’ she barked, pausing for only a moment before continuing in her host voice: ‘Our audience have been voting all week for their favourite Lovers. Tonight, the one with the fewest votes will be going home.’

She stared at them intently.

‘Maeve, Declan, Imogen, Jack, Zoe and Oliver…’ She drew out the pause as the cameras panned across them.

‘You received the most audience votes, and are safe from elimination.’

Oliver sighed with relief, feeling Maeve do the same beside him.

Instinctively he looked at Declan, but he was hugging Zoe, his back to Oliver.

‘Please sit.’

As Oliver sat, he glanced nervously towards Niall and Stella.

He was shocked they hadn’t got more votes, as the strongest couple in the villa.

‘Lovers…’ Darcy said.

‘The four of you in front of me this evening are in jeopardy of elimination.’ Her eyes locked with each of the standing contestants as she said their names.

‘Owen… Holly… Niall… Stella… You have received the fewest votes.’

Niall didn’t look nearly as nervous as Oliver would have been, betrayed only by the slight tremor in his left hand.

Oliver felt a pang, recognising how upset he would be if Niall left that night.

They had only known each other for a month, but each week on the show felt like a year in real life.

‘Holly, Niall and Stella,’ Darcy said slowly, ‘you have been saved from elimination by our audience.’ Stella kissed a stunned Niall on the cheek before pulling him down to the couch.

‘That means Owen, you’ve been dumped from the villa.’

After they had wrapped filming the elimination, Oliver found himself sitting with the others outside, waiting on the producers.

As a special treat, Brian had announced that they had an outing planned that night for the Mallorcan holiday Nit de Foc.

‘Do you think he’ll make it out of there alive?’

Stella asked, glancing towards the villa, where Jack had disappeared with Imogen and Paige.

‘It would be a shame if he missed the fireworks.’

‘Jack will be fine,’ Oliver said with false confidence, glancing at Maeve.

‘And you and Imogen can finally share your love with the world,’ Declan teased.

Oliver rolled his eyes.

‘Watch it, King.’

Maeve glanced over her shoulder.

‘Should I be doing something to—’ She was cut off by distant shouting.

‘That’s about the measure of it, I suppose,’ Niall said.

‘No wonder she got votes,’ Holly said glumly.

‘She’s much more dramatic than Owen.’

Declan slung an arm around her shoulders, tucking her into his side.

‘Come on, Holls, don’t pout.

You’ll meet someone else, I’m sure of it.’

At that, Jack emerged from the villa, hands in his pockets and looking unusually sombre.

When he reached the table, they all looked at him expectantly.

‘It didn’t go great,’ he said.

Stella shrugged, standing and glancing at Niall.

‘Are you coming with me?’

‘To the ends of the earth,’ Niall said, and Holly made a retching noise.

‘Come on,’ Maeve said to Jack.

‘Can’t leave these two alone, can we?’

‘Coming?’ Holly asked Declan.

He shook his head. ‘Give us a bit.’ His eyes were on the villa, and he looked pensive.

Holly frowned. ‘Guess I’ll fifth-wheel, then.

You two have fun. Use protection!’

Declan huffed as she walked off with the others.

‘She thinks she’s funny.’

The two of them sat in silence for a moment.

The swimming pool shimmered below them and the stars were bright in the sky above.

It was muggy out, the oppressive heat only occasionally interrupted by a breeze through the grass.

‘It’s nice out here,’ Oliver said softly.

‘Mhm,’ Declan muttered, distracted.

‘All right?’

Declan shrugged, glancing sideways at a stray cameraman focused on the two of them.

‘I’m nervous about something, but I’m a bit embarrassed to tell you.’

‘Yeah?’ Oliver could tell by the slight shifting of Declan’s eyes that he was getting a performance.

That, and he couldn’t imagine Declan had ever been embarrassed in his life, or at least willingly ready to admit it.

‘The great Declan King, nervous?’

Declan bit his lower lip, and Oliver’s eyes moved to his mouth.

‘I haven’t kissed Zoe yet,’ he said.

‘I mean, not properly.’

‘Um,’ Oliver said, momentarily distracted by the way Declan’s eyelashes cast shadows on his cheekbones in the dim light of the patio.

‘What are you waiting for?’

Declan glanced towards the villa again, and Oliver followed his gaze.

Paige had emerged, talking into her headset at a distance.

‘Not sure how to go about it, you know?’ Declan said, with his perfect smile.

Oliver resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean, I want it to be romantic,’ Declan said.

‘She tried to kiss me, and I kinda left her hanging, so I’ve got to make it up to her with something special.’

‘Why’d you leave her hanging?’

Oliver asked, feeding Declan the line he needed.

Declan grinned sheepishly, rubbing his neck.

‘I don’t know, mate.

I suppose I was a little drunk and…’

He drew out the pause.

Oliver snorted. ‘You chickened out?’

‘I didn’t chicken out,’ Declan said through gritted teeth.

‘I thought I had bad breath.’

Oliver laughed – it was a flimsy excuse and they both knew it.

Declan grinned back at him, and Oliver’s heart caught.

It was the crooked smile he’d come to think of as reserved just for him.

‘I guess I’m waiting for the right moment,’ Declan said.

‘It’s more important that it’s the right girl than the right moment,’ Oliver said.

‘If you feel like Zoe is the one, the moment will present itself.’ The words felt oddly heavy coming out.

‘Is that how you felt with your ex?’ Declan asked.

‘Yes.’

Declan stared at him, his gaze searching.

For nearly Oliver’s entire adolescent life, Sophie had been the exact person he was looking for, but he found that impossible to articulate while looking into Declan’s eyes.

Declan didn’t say anything for a long time, turning to look at the pool.

Oliver watched him carefully, feeling strung out as he traced the broken curve of Declan’s nose.

‘I think I’m looking for something like that,’ Declan said finally.

‘Someone to understand me fully. But it doesn’t come easily to me.

I’ve always held myself back because I wasn’t sure I could manage to give…

everything.’

The raw quality to Declan’s voice made Oliver certain he had forgotten they were being recorded.

He pointedly glanced towards Paige, hovering in the periphery, but Declan didn’t seem to notice.

‘Well, it’s only a kiss,’ Oliver teased, trying to lighten things.

‘Maybe you’re scared of rejection.’

‘I’m not scared.

It’s just—’ Declan stared down at his fingers, flexing them.

‘I’ve never had the option of the kind of love you’re describing.

And if I did, would it make a difference?’

An expression like panic flashed across his face so quickly that Oliver hardly registered it.

Then Declan glanced back up, his eyes reflecting the fairy lights in the bushes behind them.

He looked lit from within.

‘Yeah, it would,’ Oliver said, not fully cognisant of what question he was answering.

An uncomfortable lump formed in his throat.

He knew that Declan was more invested than Zoe in their relationship.

That he was going to get his already fragile heart broken, and that Oliver was letting him walk into it blindly.

That, and Oliver was annoyed – jealous of the fact that Declan had found someone, while he felt more lost than ever.

‘Hey, boys,’ Paige interrupted.

When Oliver looked over, he saw that she had moved closer.

‘It’s looking good, but we were hoping for more of a comedic angle on this one.

Declan’s fit and he’s nervous about kissing a girl, so he comes to you, Oliver, for advice.

You see?’

‘Er, no,’ Oliver replied.

‘That doesn’t sound funny to me.’

‘Yeah, I think we’ve done enough for tonight,’ Declan said, hoisting himself up.

Declan and Paige looked at each other for a moment, then she shrugged.

‘Fine. Are you going to watch the fireworks?’

Declan nodded.

‘Where’s Zoe?’

‘Here,’ Zoe called, emerging from the villa.

‘Did you know Brian’s daughter is a fan of my channel?’

Brian trailed behind her with Imogen.

‘If you lot don’t get a move on, we’ll miss the fireworks,’ he complained.

‘You okay?’ Oliver asked haltingly.

Imogen’s calm demeanour showed none of the ire from minutes ago with Jack.

‘Grand,’ Imogen said with a wink.

Zoe linked arms with Declan, leading him to the gate, and he whispered something in her ear that made her beam up at him.

The rest of them followed from a distance.

Brian looked at the sky.

‘The fireworks are a pretty magical sight, I’ll tell you.

It’s my favourite night of the summer.’

‘Sounds romantic,’ Imogen gushed, flashing Oliver a sly smile.

He continued staring ahead, irritated by her continual insistence on cheeriness.

He couldn’t tell, looking at the backs of Declan and Zoe, whether they were speaking or not.

Paige looked relaxed for once.

‘Hey, maybe Declan will get that kiss after all.’ She nodded to the cameraman behind them.

‘As long as we get a shot of it.’

‘Ooh!’ Imogen exclaimed, then visibly held herself back with a glance towards Zoe and Declan.

‘They’re going to kiss under the fireworks?’

she asked, quieter.

Oliver wasn’t enjoying this topic of conversation at all.

‘Did you tell Declan to ask me for advice?’ he asked Paige.

‘No, he had the idea himself.’ She gave him a sidelong look.

‘Would it matter if I’d asked him?’

‘No, it wouldn’t have,’ he lied.

His annoyance had solidified into something more resolute.

The manufactured scene, Declan blatantly using him for a plotline with Zoe, weighed on him more than it should have.

‘I just like to know what’s going on.’

She cocked her head.

‘I’ll be sure to clue you in in the future.

I think it will be received well, though, so no worries.’

‘Right. No worries,’ he echoed.

They turned a corner and arrived in an open field.

Oliver found himself impressed by the beauty of the night despite his foul mood.

As they approached the contestants already in the middle of the field, the first fireworks soared into the night sky, exploding in a cascade of golden light.

Oliver tipped his face up in appreciation, forgetting where he was for a moment.

‘Wow,’ Imogen said.

‘Could you get shots of the couples?’ Paige asked the cameraman.

Oliver followed her gaze and noticed Jack and Maeve and Niall and Stella slow dancing under the fireworks.

He turned instinctively to look for Declan and Zoe and found them on the far side of the group.

Zoe was hanging off Declan, long hair falling down her back, their faces close as they swayed in the evening light.

Oliver’s legs felt numb, as though the temperature in the field was much colder than a balmy twenty-six degrees.

A group of bright fuchsia fireworks crackled above his head, and he breathed in.

‘Quick – Declan and Zoe,’ he heard Paige mutter.

Oliver tried to not look at them.

He trained his eyes on the sky, on the treeline, on the fireworks, on anything else.

But they kept sliding, against his will, over towards where they were dancing.

Imogen inhaled sharply.

‘They’re so beautiful, aren’t they?’

His eyes swept down, and he saw Declan’s face dip towards Zoe’s.

He watched as Declan pulled Zoe closer and kissed her.

Oliver blinked, glancing away, and found that Imogen was looking back at him.

Her expression was almost apologetic, and he wasn’t sure why.