Blaze: A Fake Romance (Blueberry Grove Firefighters Book 1) by Arie Ray

Author:Arie Ray [Ray, Arie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2023-04-13T16:00:00+00:00

Olivia

I return to the table with boiling blood and a new determination to get Oliver to see some sense so this night can end. So I can walk out that door and stop watching the Chance Wilson Show play out before me. To escape before the inevitable comes and I watch him sneak off to hook up with her. I plop onto the chair without even attempting to maintain a sense of grace. Unscrewing the cap from the water bottle, I place it to Oliver’s lips and demand, “Drink.”

He hooks his arm around my waist, drawing me closer as his lips thin into a devilish smile. “I love it when you’re bossy,” he whispers against my ear.

“Oh, yeah? Well, I’m about to get a lot bossier,” I reply, pushing away from him and forcing the bottle back up to his mouth. “Come on. Drink up. I need to talk to you about something.”

“Oh, really?” he questions, leaning in once more.

“Oliver.” I press my hand to his lips, stopping him short before he can connect them to mine. “You’re drunk off your ass. Don’t do something you’ll regret tomorrow.” I lower my hand, closing it over his, and press the bottle into his grip. “Drink that. All of it.”

He watches me for a few seconds, his forehead creased, his eyes wrought with confusion. And I look away, returning my attention to the bar just in time to see Chance slam a crisp green bill on the counter and storm away without a second look.

My heart thunders in my chest, and I dart my eyes at the red-haired bartender. She lifts the cash and wipes down the counter, polishing it clean for the next unsuspecting soul to meet his doom at her hands. I exhale and quickly draw breath again, my throat feeling as though it’s constricted, my lungs burning as though all the air has suddenly been sucked from the room. Discarding her apron beneath the bar, Ava turns toward the back room. My gut churns and I stare after her, my mind racing with a million potential scenarios.

They’re probably having a clandestine meeting in the stockroom.

“Liv.” Jeremy’s voice cuts through the fog, barely audible above the white noise in my brain. “Liv,” he says again, this time gently shaking my shoulder.

I turn and see him standing bent at the waist, hunched over me. I meet his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his brow folding in a worried crease.

“I’m fine. I just…” I close my eyes, begging the dizzying sway of my equilibrium to come to rest. “I just need some air,” I say after a beat. “Can you stay with him?” I nod to Oliver. “Make sure he drinks that?”

“You’re sure?” he asks, reluctantly helping me to my feet.

Turning to the exit, I nod. “I’ll be okay, Jere. I promise.”

The air doesn’t so much wash over me as it clings to me. The sticky heat of a Midsouth summer night invades my skin, clawing at my senses, engulfing me with its misery.

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