I launch myself at him. I don't think. Hell, I don't even look at him. I just lunge for him and wrap my arms around his neck.
I'm surprised I don't knock him over, but he seems sturdier than he used to be. He's stiff for a long moment, maybe stunned. I realize he might push me away, and the tears start to fall down my cheeks onto his shoulder.
"It's okay," Olly whispers, and then he wraps his arms around me, and I bury my head against his shoulder as he takes a deep breath. I probably smell like tequila and sweat, but... I don't even care. It's him, it's Olly. I never thought I'd see him again.
He smells different; no longer like the ocean-scented soap Kris bought mixed with that lotion he used for his sensitive skin. Now he smells woodsy like cedar or maybe sandalwood but kind of spicy too, his cologne, I assume, but there's still a hint of something familiar in his scent, something that's just Olly. He squeezes me tighter, and I realize how strong he is now.
He's not a teenager anymore. He's a grown man.
"It's been fifteen years," I mutter, stiffening in his arms as reality hits me. All my relief gives away to my anger towards him. I let go and push his chest, he doesn't budge, but he lets go of me, and we're standing in front of each other. Ironically in the very room, it all went so wrong.
I go speechless as I fully take him in for the first time, the room is dark, but there's a light coming in the window from a streetlamp, and it bleeds into the room well enough to see. He's not the eighteen-year-old, tall, skinny teen I last saw. His shoulders have broadened, and his arms are fit and toned, shown off in a navy-blue button-down with rolled-up sleeves. It's tucked into a pair of matching dress slacks.
I for one, always thought Olly was cute, even before the other girls started to see it. But that word doesn't work anymore; his face has matured, filled out, and hardened; with some fine lines, that only make him look so... well handsome. He's incredibly handsome. So much so, it's hard to see the dorky but adorable kid he once was.
His once unruly dark blonde hair is now styled in a modern, flattering cut, it's short and shaved close on the sides, and the back, but his front is kept longer and slicked slightly back and slightly off to the side. The few pieces that stick out give him a sexy edge. His glasses are gone, and his once big soft brown eyes are harder, shadowed, and guarded. The big goofy smile that always rested on his face is nowhere to be found, his jaw is firm, his full lips set in a frown. That, along with his razor stubble, adds to this mix of handsome with just enough rugged that defines the adult version of Oliver Stone. It's overwhelming to take in, and I blink a few times as I do.
"You, okay?" Olly breaks the silence.
The tears have subsided, but the streaky mess on my cheeks remains, and I'm sure I look like a total mess.
"Am I okay?" I sigh as I try and find the words even to begin. "That's a loaded question, Olly,"
"It's Oliver."
"Excuse me?" I take a step back, and so does he. He crosses his arms, flexing his tanned forearms.
"I don't go by that anymore. It's just Oliver now." There's an impassive expression on his face, and I can't read it.
"You can't be serious, Olly. I called you that since—"
"I am. It's Oliver," he says in a firmer tone voice, and I can't hide the way I cringe.
"Don't be a dick, Oliver," Hunter speaks up, and I nearly jump. I forgot for a second that he was still here.
"Was I talking to you?" Olly... er, Oliver looks up sharply at Hunter, who steps closer to us.
"You think I care if you were?"
"Of course, he's here too," Oliver mutters more to himself than me. "Ironic, we end up in the same place we were the last time, we were all in one room."
Memories from that night poke at my brain, threatening to rise. On top of everything else, I cannot take that right now. I take another step back, instinctively placing myself closer to Hunter as if he can stop the memories somehow.
Oliver's expression doesn't change; he remains cold but calm, impossible to read.
"What are you doing here?" I ask, my voice is as shaky as I feel.
"I got your message," he says with a small smirk, and then I see it. That smirk it's just like...
".... James, you called him dad." I start putting it together as my anger rises.
"Because he is," Oliver says.
"But your dad's name is Jimmy... oh." The last time I saw his dad, I was just a little girl. Olly never liked him much, so he didn't have pictures up. "But he lives in Florida."
"Did. We both live in New York now."
"So, James is your dad. He is the boss, then." No wonder he laughed when I told him to pass my message on...
"No," Oliver laughs shortly. "I am. Technically, my dad has a big enough share to be the second Stone in Stone and Stone Enterprises, but I own the majority, and the Sweet Haven project is all my idea."
The words, All my idea, echo in my head and amplify the mix of anger and overwhelming shock over all this.
"This was you! Your idea? You decided to tear down the duplexes and the bookstore? You!? How could you, Oliver!" I yell his name like it's a knife I'm whipping across the room.
"Relax, Kinsey—"
"Relax! I'm not going to relax! This whole time it felt like that stupid company was personally attacking me, and here I was right all along, and it was you doing it."
"Kinsey, please," he dares to roll his eyes. "Last I heard you were married and living in some gated community a few hours away. I didn't know until my dad told me that you were here and using your maiden name."
"Even if lived a day away I'd still come home and see it. You knew that."
"What would I accomplish putting money into buildings to attack my ex-girlfriend? It doesn't make any sense and you know it."
"I don't know, but... the duplexes, the bookstore?" I challenge as I step closer, narrowing my eyes at him. "You left me like I meant nothing to you. You broke your promise and even threw away the nickname I gave you." I see his jaw clenching and his eyebrow twitching. I know he's getting angry, finally an emotion, and I can't help it. I keep pushing. "But that wasn't enough? You had to come back here and erase all the memories too?"
"I'd have to burn down the whole goddamn town to do that!" He yells louder than I think he meant, and Hunter is suddenly between us.
"Don't yell at her," he says in a low voice.
"Wow," Oliver laughs in his face and then turns to me again. "Some things never change, do they?"
"You did," I shoot back.
"Sometimes we have to." Oliver's voice and his eyes soften, holding me still. "I had to let Olly go so that Oliver could survive. I'm sorry that you don't understand that."
"You want to talk to me about surviving?" I choke out as my eyes begin to burn with unshed tears. "You're the one that left!"
"You know you're the only one that blames me for that, right?" Oliver questions.
"No, she's not," Hunter chimes in, and Olly's jaw tightens as he shifts his gaze to him. He looks like he wants to say something but changes his mind when he sighs and then looks back at me.
"Listen, Kinsey. I did come here wanting to talk to you about all this," he motions to the mess around us. "Come by the old bookstore tomorrow, and I'll show you what I'm doing."
"Why should I?" I mutter irritably. "I already saw how badly they destroyed it in there."
"To rebuild it, come see for yourself."
"I've seen enough."
"No, you haven't. Now you're just being stubborn," Oliver accuses, but there's a small smile tugging at his lips. "Please, come. You might even be forced to admit you like my plans."
"I doubt that."
"Then come to prove me wrong," he says.
"Fine," I huff out.
He looks around, shaking his head. "I can't believe you broke in here just to piss off my dad."
"That's not why," I protest.
"Well, it's nasty in here and dangerous, don't be coming here again. You could've gotten hurt. I'm shocked your protector even let you in here." He throws a side-eye toward Hunter.
"Watch your passive-aggressive little comments, Oliver," Hunter says icily. "I won't hesitate to put you in your place now."
"You threatening me, big bulldog?" Oliver tilts his head.
"No, I'm promising."
Olly scoffs, "I'm not scared of you or anyone anymore, come at me, and you'll regret it."
He turns to me again. "Do you have a ride home, Kinsey?"
"Yes, she does," Hunter speaks for me.
"You've been drinking too, right?" Oliver asks Hunter.
"Oh, I'm well past sober now," Hunter mutters as he takes my arm. "Come on, Kinz."
"You sure, Kinz? I can use one of our trucks and give you a ride."
"I got her," Hunter says tersely.
"I asked, Kinsey," Oliver snaps back.
"I'm fine, Olly- Oliver." There's a flash of something in his eyes, but it's gone before I can determine what it is. Oliver turns and leaves, and when I hear the front door slam again. I shudder at the sound.
We also walk out the front door; the crisp night air is welcoming and as sobering as the run-in with Oliver was. I see his back disappearing down the road ahead of us.
"He'll be walking towards the bar too..." My emotions are a muddled-up mess, and I know I could and probably will break down again.
"We'll let him get ahead some," Hunter says softly. He tilts my chin up, and our gazes meet. "You okay?"
"No," I admit.
"You want to talk about it?" He asks as his concerned gaze washes over my face.
I let out a heavy sigh, and I plop down on that fateful curb, we once sat and declared best friends forever.
Why did it all have to go so wrong?
Hunter sits down next to me and puts a comforting arm around me.
"I don't know where to even... I never thought I'd see Olly again and—" I trail off. I don't know what to think, and my emotions are a mud puddle of a mess.
"Oliver. It's Oliver now," Hunter mocks his tone, and I can't help it, I laugh, but it only starts that way. One second, I'm laughing, and the next thing I know, I'm sobbing.
"Shh, it's okay, I got you," Hunter pulls me into his lap on the curb. I cling to him as the sobs shake my body and I soak his shirt. "I got you, Darlin. I'll always be here, always."
Always. He never left. He never would. Christ, just an hour ago, I was ready to... damn it all.
"I'm sorry... I, fuck," I mumble through my sobs.
"You have nothing to apologize for," Hunter assures me.
"I do, though. Hunter. I do. Because tonight, all night, there was a vibe and, um, I thought we—I mean... I wanted and now—"
"I know," he cuts off my awkward attempt at saying it without saying it, and I'm relieved. "I was feeling it too, but it's alright, okay? You didn't expect to get your heart thrown through a blender tonight. Just let it out. Let me take care of you."
"Okay," I say, and it's so easy to let him do just that. Hunter is always my lifesaver when my emotions become too much, and I think I could drown. I tuck my head into the crook of his shoulder as my tears slowly subside, and he holds me, stroking my back.
Eventually, he lifts me, cradling me in his arms, and I cling to him while he carries me to his truck and sets me inside. I scoot close to him, letting my head fall on his shoulder. My tears have finally stopped, and now I'm so exhausted I can't keep my head up.
Hunter kisses my head and then places his keys in the ignition as the truck roars to life. The sound is somehow soothing. I'm so tired I feel myself drifting off as he drives. I attempt to stay awake by sitting up taller, but it's getting harder as my head keeps falling back on his shoulder.
He laughs humorously, "It's okay Kinz, just sleep. I'll carry you to your bed."
"Mky," I mumble.
***
"Jesus Christ, what a mess," is the next thing I hear.
Huh? Where are we? I try and open my eyes, but the exhaustion is too heavy. As I'm lowered onto a soft bed, I recognize my mattress. Then I recall the embarrassing state I left my bedroom in. I'm too tired to say anything, so I lie there pretending to sleep, as I hear him tossing piles of clothes off my bed.
"I'm not the guy I was then either," he says softly, I think to himself. "I'm not some emotional kid that can be manipulated into playing the martyr for him."
What?
"He thinks he can come riding in here after fifteen fucking years..." He mutters as I hear him pacing. "I'm not stepping aside. Not this time..."
He sighs as I hear his footsteps coming closer to the bed, and then I feel the weight on my bed shift as he comes and sits at my side.
"I'm going to fight for you, Darlin. Like I should've done then."
Whew, that was emotional! More and more info and little hints about the past will be dropped in these present-day chaps. Now that all our players on are the board, so to speak.
Here's a fun tiktok I made for this chapter, https://www.tiktok.com/@heidimaewahlberg/video/7259143900429028654