Lennon. Not Clark.
“I need an excuse to do this.” His fingers trail my cheek, down my neck, and then move behind my head, causing me to shiver. “And this,” he whispers, leaning in and kissing my cheek where his fingers just were. His mouth makes the same journey his hand did but stops at the base of my neck, just at the top of my shoulder.
A throat clears behind us.
Ollie slumps and murmurs into my neck. “Of course.”
When he steps away, his playful mood is gone, and his arms stiffen around me.
His brother Max stands a few feet away with a guy I can only assume is Ash, if his avoiding eye contact with either of us is any indication.
And Mr. Toppy? A skinny, punk-looking guy who’s shorter and thinner than I am. Long dark hair on top of shaved sides, giant ear gauge on his right ear, neck tattoos, but surprisingly only one inked sleeve.
Not only is he the complete opposite of me but also the complete opposite of what I was imagining.
I don’t know why, but I thought Ollie’s ex would be another sporting type, like most of his brothers. Doesn’t make much sense when the odd brother is best friends with the ex.
We stand there in a four-way standoff. Max glaring at us, Ollie tense and getting flustered as his mouth opens and shuts, me checking out the ex, and Ash looking like he wants to be anywhere but here.
Fun times.
Ash raises his hand to run it through his thick hair, and that’s when I see it. The lone tattoo on his left arm. Mi Vida. The same script, same size as the tattoo on Ollie’s chest.
My life.
I looked it up in a moment of weakness after that night in Ollie’s hotel room.
The doubt Ollie obliterated not two minutes ago is back, even though this technically changes nothing. I knew he and Ash were serious. You can’t have a relationship for four years and not be serious. But matching tattoos? That’s practically the same as a wedding band. No, it’s actually worse. Wedding bands can come off.
I try to tell myself that maybe the matching tattoos have nothing to do with their relationship at all. Max and Ash are tattoo artists. Maybe it was practice.
Then I remember the way Ollie stiffened when I ran my hand over that tattoo in particular. I don’t know if I can handle such a permanent reminder of his ex right there on his chest.
“They’ve been staring at each other for like five minutes,” someone whispers off to our side. I’m not surprised to find Vic and Nic standing there watching us.
Ollie breaks first and forces a smile. “Max.” He lifts his chin toward his ex. “Ash. This is …” He stammers, and I can practically see his mind drawing a blank.
Clark. Say Clark.
“Clark,” he finally gets out.
And now we’re faced with a game of chicken—who’s gonna reach for each other’s hand first. Turns out Ollie’s ex is the bigger person.
“Good to meet you.” His voice is soft while his handshake is strong.
I nod, because if I lie and say it’s good to meet him too, they’re all gonna know I’m full of shit.
“Have you seen Grandma yet?” Ollie asks Max.
Max is still seething quietly, and I realize he and Ollie have the same I hope you choke on air death glare.
“We were going that way now.” Ash tries to pull Max away, but Max doesn’t budge.
Talk about a sense of not belonging. I have nerdy glasses, no tattoos, and am dressed in a sweater and chinos. That versus the three tatted-up guys surrounding me feels like a game of spot the odd one out—grade school level.
Ash appears calmer and more put together than Max, which is weird. Shouldn’t Ash be the one sulking and glaring?
It’s Ollie’s turn to stand awkwardly, and now, as I glance out into the yard, it’s apparent that numerous family members are being nosy but trying to be subtle. We’re definitely on display for everyone to see.
I almost feel like I’m intruding on a family moment, because Ash has been a part of it for so long.
“I’m gonna go help with the food,” I announce with way too much enthusiasm.
I turn on my heel and get away from them as fast as I can. Cowardly, considering I’m here as a fake boyfriend and probably should’ve stayed by Ollie’s side, but the more I try to fight it, the more I’m realizing I’m into Ollie a hell of a lot more than I should be. I’m invested now.
And isn’t that the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.
This is worse than Daniel and Dylan combined. Because this time? Physical injuries aren’t a worry. Nope. Ollie has the ability to tear my heart out.
I risk a glance back at him before I head inside the house to help his mom in the kitchen, and with the way he and Ash are smiling warmly at each other, the risk of heartache just became significantly higher.