Chapter 8 #2
He stepped back, indicating for everyone to leave. Ollie didn’t look at me as he hurried after the others.
I stared after them, disappointment sinking like a stone in my stomach.
That wasn’t how I’d expected our reunion to go, but at least Ollie didn’t seem to hate me.
I wouldn’t blame him if he did, not after I showed him how much I trusted him by shoving an NDA down his throat and then ignoring him for five months.
A small sniff behind me made me whirl around as I realised I wasn’t alone.
Leaning against the wall, his hood for once fully pushed back, leaving his haunted face on display, was Arlo.
His face was pale, his dark curls were limp and hanging over his forehead.
He wasn’t looking at me. No. He was staring at the door through which Jack had just disappeared.
“You okay, man?”
Arlo’s hands went to his hood, snapping it back over his head. “Yeah. Let’s get going.”
I never knew what to say to Arlo…or any of the others. For a songwriter, you’d think it’d be easier to find the words.
But there was only one person I’d found them easy with.
Now, I had six weeks to learn if it’d been a fluke. If it was, we’d part our merry ways at the end of it and go on with our lives.
And if it wasn’t?
Then I’d do whatever it took to make Ollie mine.
To my dismay, by the time we got downstairs, Ollie had jumped in a different car. Even worse, I boarded the private jet at Heathrow to find Ollie already sitting next to Marta, one of our makeup artists.
I scowled as I took in their bent-together heads. A soft smile was on Ollie’s face, leagues away from the tight ones he’d offered earlier. He didn’t look up as I passed, but given how his shoulders tightened, he knew I was there.
I could’ve taken any of the several empty seats on the plane, but I didn’t. Instead, I dropped into the one across the aisle from him, facing the back of the plane. It put Ollie right in my line of sight.
As the jet taxied the runway and got into takeoff position, I couldn’t stop watching Ollie and Marta. She giggled, her hand toying through her hair as she whispered to Ollie. If she scooted over another few inches, she’d be in his lap.
Ollie grinned at her indulgently, his quiet comments making her laugh louder and louder. My fingers dug into the arms of my chair. Since when was Ollie a stand-up comedian? The guy was funny, but come on.
Suddenly a chilling thought hit me. Something I wished I’d considered before hatching this madcap scheme. Did Ollie still consider himself to be straight?
All this time, I’d hoped he’d take one look at me, and we’d pick up where we left off. That this tour would allow him to see me in all my glory on stage while getting to know the real me backstage.
But what if that wasn’t going to be the case? What if that day in the lift was nothing more than a blip on his sexuality radar?
Or even worse, what if he had decided he was interested in men…just not me? What if he was already in a relationship with someone?
Given the way he was entertaining Marta’s advances, I could probably write the latter off.
The longer I watched Marta giggle and flirt, the more my jealousy rose. Kai tried to engage me in conversation a couple of times, going so far as to kick my foot to try and get my attention. I waved him off, unwilling to take my attention off them.
The first time Ollie glanced up and saw me watching, his cheeks heated. The second time, he glared at me for a second before dragging his eyes away.
He didn’t look at me again.
It took an infuriatingly long time to reach cruising altitude.
Part of me was tempted to undo my seat belt early so I could drag Ollie into the back and give him a piece of my mind.
Unfortunately, I’d seen too many episodes of Air Crash Investigation.
My jealousy wasn’t a good-enough reason to take the risk.
Finally, the stewardess’s chipper voice came over the loudspeaker, telling us we were free to move around the cabin.
Why they bothered to use the loudspeaker on such a small aircraft was beyond me.
I was moving before she finished speaking, crossing the aisle and glaring down at the giggling couple.
Marta noticed me first. Jolting away from Ollie, she crossed her legs and gave me a breezy smile. “Luca? Is everything okay?”
“Peachy,” I said through a gritted smile. “Just wanted to give my journalist here the grand tour.”
Ollie took his time lifting his gaze to meet mine.
“Oh, don’t worry. I can do that.” Marta was already unsnapping her belt and beaming at Ollie. “Come on, you won’t believe half the stuff they have on this thing.”
“No,” I barked, wincing as several heads twisted in our direction. I gave Marta one of my press smiles, the one that had won me Best Smile awards.
Also known as the one that was fake as fuck.
“I mean, it’s fine. It’ll give us a chance to get to know each other before everything gets chaotic. Right, Ollie?”
Ollie swallowed. “Right.”
Stepping back so he could get up, I cut my way down the aisle, hoping he’d follow. Kai shot me a worried look as I passed, while Silas’s was more of a what the fuck are you doing?
I avoided them both. At this point, I had no fucking idea. I’d been expecting Ollie to come in and…well, not fall at my feet. But maybe slip back into the flirty banter and deep conversations we’d had in the lift.
What I hadn’t expected was this level of cold professionalism.
One thing was certain, I had a shit tonne of grovelling to do if I wanted any hope of a future with him.
Entering one of the two bedrooms at the back of the plane, I stood close to the door until Ollie came in. Once he was over the threshold, I closed the door and flicked the lock.
The sound had Ollie freezing in the middle of the room. “What are you doing?”
Leaning against the door, I shoved my hands in my pockets and smirked. “Looking at you.”
Ollie bristled, folding his arms over his chest. “Look, Mr Weston…”
“Luca.”
He stiffened. “I’m not going to call you that.”
I pushed away from the door, stalking towards him. “Really? Got some problem with saying my name?”
“No,” Ollie breathed, stumbling away from me. “But it’s better if we keep things…professional.”
His back hit the wall, and I was on him in an instant. My hands were on either side of his head, boxing him in. “Didn’t feel very professional that day in the lift.”
“We weren’t working together then. This is different.”
“Is it?” I licked my lips, and Ollie’s eyes dipped, following the movement. I smirked. “Feels the same to me. Small space. Can’t get out.”
“This time, I work for you.”
“No, you work for Identity.”
Ollie’s gaze was unwavering, but his body trembled. “I’m not losing my job just for the sake of having a fling with you.”
I leaned forward, ghosting my breath up his neck until I reached his ear. “Who said I want a fling?”
Ollie, the little fucker, did something completely unexpected. Thrusting his hips forward, he rubbed his groin against my very hard cock. “Maybe you should tell your dick that.”
I chuckled. “Oh, I want you, Ollie. Make no mistake about that. That’s not the real question here.”
Ollie’s chest was moving faster. I leaned back so I could see his face, and the desperation there threatened to break me. His voice trembled as he spoke. “It’s not?”
“No, the real question is, who’s this for?” Moving my hand from the wall, I dragged it slowly down his front, giving him ample time to tell me to stop. But he stayed silent. I pushed under his waistband, gripping his shaft firmly. “Is this for me? Or for her?”
Ollie stiffened, understanding dawning. “Wait…is that what this is about? Are you jealous?”
I slowly stroked him, memorising the way his head fell back against the wall. “Jealous? That depends.”
“On what?” Ollie gasped, his eyelids drooping as I rubbed my palm over the head of his cock, slicking it with precum.
“On you. Tell me, is she the one you’d rather was in here with you?”
Ollie lifted his chin. “Maybe.”
My own breathing was increasing, my head dropping to Ollie’s shoulder. “Is she the one you’ll lie awake thinking about tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Liar,” I hissed. “Admit it. Tell me the truth.”
“Damnit.” His hips were thrusting now, his dick fucking into my fist. “It’s you. Ever since that day in the lift. It’s always fucking you.”
“In that case, I’m not jealous.” That was a lie. I was fucking jealous of anyone who got to breathe the same air as him. “So long as it’s my name you say when you come.”
Ollie’s lips tipped into a wicked grin. “Sure thing…Mr Weston.”
A growl slipped, and I yanked my hand from his trousers. Ollie’s grin fell immediately. “Shit, no, don’t stop…”
“Oh, I’m not stopping. I’m going to drive you so fucking crazy it’s going to take every ounce of your self-control to stop from screaming my name.”
Tweaking one of his nipples, I hovered with my lips an inch from his. “If you want this to happen again, you better say my fucking name. You remember it’s me on my knees. Me turning you inside out.”
I dropped to my knees, triumph racing through me at Ollie’s sudden gasp. Loosening his cock from his trousers, I held the tip towards my mouth.
Looking up at him, I winked. “Just don’t say it too loud. Unless you want everyone to know what I’m doing to you.”