"Well, I just spent about fourteen hours in a kitchen, so I'm not." And he narrows his eyes, peering at the door, clearly on to me.
"You're not going to make me hunt for pizza at three a.m. on my own, are you?" I look up, batting my eyelashes, using all the feminine powers of persuasion I possess. He softens, body wilting just a fraction, and for a moment I think I've won. I let down my guard, releasing my hold on the door.
Ollie acts.
In one move, he grabs me around the waist and lifts me over his shoulder. Damn, he's still just a strong as I remember. My hands land on his back, clutching for something steady to hold on to now that the floor looks precariously far away. But my fingers gain a mind of their own, traveling down his shirt, running over the contours of his muscles, farther down to the curve of his lower back.
Whoa, girl!
I gulp, shaking my head.
Freaking wayward hands! I curl my fingers in, realizing that the sound of jingling keys has filled the hallway.
"Ollie!" I kick out.
He just hugs my thighs tighter, holding them in place. I pound my fists on his back instead.
"Ollie, put me down."
"Not…" He grunts. "Until…" The shoulder below my abs dips for a second. "I open…" A resounding click makes its way to my ear. "The door!" There's no missing the triumph in his voice.
I wince. Waiting.
Ollie steps forward, still not letting me go, and hauls us both into the apartment. I peer around. Nothing in the kitchen. Nothing in the living room.
"Will you put me down now?" I ask, trying to maintain a little dignity. Which, you know, is really hard to do when you're upside down. And in a dress. And probably mooning the entire world…
"Okay." He shrugs beneath me. I wait for a second, expecting him to bend down and place my feet gently onto the floor. He dips. But a second later, his whole body shoots up and I know exactly what he's doing.
Soaring through the air, I yelp, "Ol—"
But before I finish, I land face first against the couch cushions. I stay there for a second, breathing heavily, rapidly pulling my skirt down. Unfortunately, this isn’t the first time this has happened. I should have been more prepared.
"Ollie!" I gruff, flipping over, meeting his grinning face. Not surprising. "I'm not ten anymore, you can't just throw me around."
"I can't?" He looks pointedly to where he just threw me.
"Well, I mean technically, you can, obviously, but—"
I stop mid-sentence as the sound of the toilet flushing echoes across our tiny living room. I know who it is before the door even opens and I close my eyes in anticipation. I already saw his naked butt. I don't need to see anything else. Ollie on the other hand…
I sigh.
Three.
Two.
One.
"What the hell!" Ollie bellows.
"Oh, hey man," the naked guy mumbles. "Sorry."
"Who the hell are you?" Ollie continues.
The guy shrugs, squirming around. "Bridget's date. Who are you?"
"Her brother," Ollie growls, utterly terrifying.
Silence falls. Naked guy subtly reaches behind him for something to cover himself with, eyes comically wide in any other situation. I just glance back and forth, keeping my gaze on their upper regions, unsure if I should laugh or get Bridget or maybe act as a human shield…
"Skye!" Ollie yells, exasperated.
I fasten my gaze on him. "Hey! How is this my fault?"
"Why didn’t you warn me?"
"Oh, I don't know." I shrug. "Because I didn’t want involuntary manslaughter to go on my permanent record."
"Out," he orders.
I scrunch my eyebrows. "Wait, are you still talking to me? Because I really don't think I'd feel good about abandoning the poor guy to your wrath all on his own."
"No, I'm not talking to you." Ollie sighs and turns, then points to naked guy, who has grabbed a towel from the bathroom to cover himself up.
My towel.
Ugh.
That might have to be burned.
"You!" he demands. "Out!"
I stand, wrapping my hands around Ollie's furiously pointing arm. "Ollie…"
He doesn't move an inch. "Get out of my apartment, now."
"Dude!" Naked guy shrugs.
"Ollie, he's naked."
"I'm aware," Ollie growls. I roll my eyes.
"No, I mean, he's naked. We can’t just kick him out of the apartment."
Ollie lowers his arm. I breathe a sigh of relief, smiling apologetically toward the stranger still stuck in the bathroom doorway, afraid to move. And then Ollie charges across the living room, and I, still holding onto his arm, stumble behind.
"Bridget!" he yells, banging on her door. "Bridget, put some clothes on and get out here now."
I push him out of the way. "I'll go in, just cover your eyes for a second."
Using the opening, I squeeze past Ollie and slip inside Bridget's room, sealing the door shut behind me before closing my eyes and turning on the light.
"Bridge?"
"Yeah?" she says, mid-yawn.
"Do you have any clothes on?"
"What?" she mumbles, still half asleep.
I purse my lips, weighing the options, wondering how long it will take Ollie to kill Bridget's, uh, man-friend. Screw it. I open my eyes and pick her T-shirt up off the ground, handing it to her as I crouch onto the bed.
"Skye?" she asks, pulling on the T-shirt and sitting up, utterly confused. "Where's Tim?"
"Oh, is that his name?"
Realization dawns. Bridget's eyes grow wide, filling with horror. "Where's Tim?"
I shrug, wincing. "Well, I'm assuming you only have one guy here. So it's safe to say Tim is the one who is currently standing butt naked in our living room."
"Bridget!" Ollie calls through the door.
She drops her head into her hands, moaning. "Why is he naked?"
"Well, you probably know the answer to that better than I do." Our eyes meet, and we both bite our lips to keep from cracking.
"He's naked in front of Ollie?"
"Yeah."
"Is it so hard to put on a pair of boxers to go to the bathroom?"
I shrug. I mean, I would think it was obvious enough but… "Maybe make that more clear next time?"
She sighs, shaking her head. "Do I have to go out there?"
"Yes," I say and grab her hand, pulling her to her feet.
"Remind me again why I thought living with my brother would be a good idea."
I pause, staring at her. "I have no idea."
And on that subject, the two of us easily agree.
"Okay, okay, I've got this, I can do this," she repeats, giving herself a little mini-pep talk. In the meantime, I slip out the door. The tension in the living room is palpable. Ollie stands at the far side of the room, arms crossed, glaring. He and the naked guy, I mean Tim, don't say a word to each other.
"Bridget will be out in a moment," I whisper, speaking to both of them.
"Um?" Tim asks, hesitant. "Can I go get my clothes?"
"Yea—no." I change my mind mid-sentence after meeting the steel in Ollie's eyes, a crisp furious blue. "Why don't you just wait until Bridget gets out here and then you can go in."
Ollie nods, giving his consent.
And then the silence thickens. My eyes bounce around the room, not sure where to look. I tap my foot. The seconds crawl by.
Finally, Bridget emerges.
"Bri—"
"Ollie, shut up," she snaps. His mouth hangs open, halted mid-word. Heck, mine hangs open too. The fierceness in her voice is fantastic.
She ignores her brother and walks over to Tim, handing him a bundle of clothes. "Here you go. It’s probably best if you go now. I'm so sorry about this. Call me tomorrow and we can try to forget this ever happened."