The Trade Off | The Lost Boys

Chapter 4

Updated 05/16/2019

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Chapter 4

She was staring. Totally staring.

Who was this guy? His dark eyes studied her, shifting ever so slightly over her face. He blinked slowly, swallowing hard. She noticed. Olive thought he was beautiful, an absolute Adonis. He cleared his throat and a moment passed, bringing Ollie's attention back to his outstretched hand. She raised her hand to follow his lead, her fingers grazing his.

Ollie was surprised by the sudden warmth spreading from her fingertips and it quickly made its way to her cheeks. Was she blushing? No way. Her head was fuzzy, but she couldn't figure out why he would have such an effect on her. Olive blinked. Shifting her gaze from her hand back to the man, she tried to find the confidence to not look away. He was just a guy, after all. An absolutely striking guy. Tugging on her arm, she stood swiftly with his help, his other hand grazing against her back as he steadied her.

In the corner, the boys looked to Dwayne, his demeanor different than they had ever seen. He wasn't the dark, brooding brother they had grown with, and the three of them shared a look of disbelief. He looked full of life, which was extremely out of character, smiling softly as he helped Olive stand. Dwayne didn't smile. Paul raised a brow.

Gross.

Around the corner they watched as Max entered the room, a curious and knowing grin on his face.

"I see you've met my boys." Max remarked innocently, wiping his glasses on his shirt. His boys? Marko and Paul shared a look.

"Yeah, you could say that she had a little run in with Dwayne." Paul snickered, causing the other boys to chuckle.

Ollie snapped out of her daze. Dwayne. This stranger's name was Dwayne. He caught her stare, his dark eyes bouncing with light. A blush crept up to her cheeks as she noticed he was still holding her from when he helped her up, and how she realized he wasn't making an attempt to move.

"Yeah, you could say that." she piped up, straightening her back and tearing her gaze from Dwayne and back to Max and her dad. What were they staring at? Trying to diffuse the stares of the men around her, she asked the only question she could think of. "Did you mention something about dinner?"

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They shuffled from the living room to the dining room, and the china on the table was in pristine condition. She raised a brow; it was pretty fancy silverware for burgers. It had the feel of a model home, everything meticulously placed, and Ollie found herself frowning at how out of the ordinary everyone looked. The four men were sitting uncomfortably; they didn't belong here. They didn't look like they belonged here. They were far from pristine, no offence, compared to the rest of the house. Her Dad had a chip on his shoulder that she couldn't figure out, and his hand was on the back of Olive's chair. Max was extremely chipper on the other hand, happy as a clam to set the table.

It must have been well past midnight, and yet everyone was surprisingly awake. She should have been exhausted! Ollie sat in the middle of the table thinking about how long she must have been up, and her dad sat to the right side her. Marko plopped down on her left, and she raised her head with a small smile. Max sat on Marko's right, at the head of the table.

He was the patriarch. Shuddering at the thought she shook it off and looked up.

Where did that come from?