She pauses sorting the paint. Her eyes meet mine, and her face is lit up. “Who’s the lucky lady?”
I shake my head, hating that I need to lie to her. I feel like young Oliver, lying about not taking her paint brushes from her home studio. But I don’t need a girlfriend; I need a fucking wife. I’m so fucked.
“No names, I don’t need you looking her up.”
She tries to bite back a smile. “I would never.”
“You’re a terrible liar. You’ve looked up Nova, Chelsea… You even stalked Summer’s socials.” My brothers’ fiancées and friend.
“It wasn’t stalking, just researching,” she says, heading to the drawer for more paint bottles. Following her lead, I grab and place them around the room, mimicking her movements. The irony isn’t lost on me… Here I am, about to make up a whole fake fiancée, while lecturing my mother about boundaries.
“Call it what you want, but she’s staying anonymous for now.”As anonymous as someone who doesn’t exist can be.
She returns to putting the paints on the table. “Fine, so what’s the problem with this no named woman?”
I laugh inwardly at her clear disapproval before I focus on why I came to her in the first place. “I’m just wondering… when’s the right time to make things official? Like, when’s too soon?”
Her face brightens. “There’s no such thing as too soon.”
“Of course you’d say that.”
“I’m serious. If you were under twenty-one, I’d be saying something different, but you’re mature. You have your ownplace, a good job, and a good head on your shoulders.” She walks over, pausing in front of me and putting her hand on my cheek. “Follow your heart. Let it lead you.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
She glances at the clock on the wall, and I take it as my cue to leave.
“I’ll let you get back to it,” I say, leaning down to kiss her cheek.
She holds my face in her hands, keeping me close. “Make sure we meet her soon.”
I roll my eyes and sigh, guilt twisting in my chest. How many more lies will I need to tell before this is over? “Yes, Mom. Have a great class. Talk to you tomorrow.”
She turns back to her desk, and I head out, only to collide into someone. My hands instinctively reach out to steady the person, and I’m hit with the sweet scent of floral and caramel. I stare into a stunningly familiar set of blue eyes.
Karley.
Chapter 6
Karley
Istandtoe-to-toewithOliver, his piercing blue eyes locked on mine, a crooked grin spreading across his lips. Why does he have to keep showing up here? I know that his mom owns the school, but seriously? He’s popping up everywhere this week like it’s his full-time job.
My gaze drops quickly over his outfit. He’s wearing a tailored navy suit that hugs his frame perfectly, paired with a white shirt and a matching navy tie. I force myself to look up, avoiding his lips, the same lips that have starred in countless of my dreams, and most humiliating nightmares. His eyebrow is slightly arched, as if he knows exactly what I was doing.
Where has he been, all dressed up? A meeting. An art auction. A date? The thought twists the fluttering in my stomach into tight, uncomfortable knots.
“Hi, Karley,” he says, voice smooth, with the tiniest smirk playing on his lips.
“Oliver.”
“Are you going to tell me your thoughts on today’s suit?”
It’s the same as the other one… Tight and dangerous.
I cross my arms. “You wearing overly tight clothes is none of my business.”
“It’s not tight; it's tailor-made.”
