Too Consumed

Page 33

Chapter Eighteen
Olivia
The bathroom door creaks as Seth leans his weight against it.
“We’re going to be late.” He sighs, tapping his fingers against the wood in a cute, fast beat.
I roll my eyes and adjust the beaded purple straps. How is he dressed already? I’ve barely been in here five minutes. And the dinner is downstairs in the function room by the arena. I pull my phone off the counter and check the time. Oh! It turns out I’ve been in here going on forty minutes. It’s not my fault I’m moving slo-mo. Seth and I went to bed sometime this morning and only woke up two hours ago. I don’t drink coffee, either, so being a normal human being at tonight’s dinner is becoming less realistic by the minute. We slept until late in the afternoon and when we checked our phones, they were full of messages and missed calls from the rest of the crew. Seth had a lot of calls to make once he woke and I replied to Selena’s myriad of demanding text messages. Now, we’re getting ready for dinner. Nerves chew their way through my stomach lining at the thought of being there on Seth’s arm. That’s why I needed the perfect dress, so I don’t look so out of place next to his beyond gorgeous face.
I smooth my hands over the satin fabric against my thighs. The dress is perfect, to say the least and my long chocolate hair that I’ve curled into subtle waves adds that extra touch of elegance. I remind myself of a Cadbury chocolate bar. I twirl once, careful not to roll my ankle in these ridiculously high heels, and when I’m sure I’ve finished, I unlock the bathroom door, meeting Seth’s suit-clad back. The fabric is crisp and straight, following the same shade of his hair—jet black. He turns around and I visibly see air being forced from his lungs. His eyebrows lift and his lips part—the exact reaction I was hoping for. Forgetting me, I take in his entire form. The white shirt under his black jacket clings to his chest and you just know there’s a killer body hiding underneath it. I nervously run the tips of my fingers along my neck. I feel like I’m wearing a collar and it’s suddenly choking me. He looks…there are no words. In the suit, he looks mischievous. Like he’s ready to do indecent, naughty things at the drop of a hat and hide it behind his classy suit.
“Now I feel bad,” he says, finally speaking and raking his fingers through his hair.
Instinctively, I step forward, pressing my hands against his chest and under his black tie. “Why?”
He reaches for my chest and runs a single, thick finger underneath the beaded strap. He avoids my eyes and miraculously comes off as indifferent. “Because you spent money on a dress I’m only going to destroy.” His eyes flick from my chest to my eyes to gauge my reaction. “But I promise I’ll make it worth every single dollar you spent.”
I’ve already kissed the dress goodbye. His rough hands, wet tongue, and hard body feels better on my skin than any fabric ever could—even one as expensive as this.
There’s a knock at the door and my breath catches in my throat. Our friends have impeccable timing. I suppose them showing up is a good thing. Five seconds longer and I would have torn the dress myself.
“Ready?” He smiles, extending his elbow to me.
“Let’s do it.”
He leads me out of the bedroom, down the stairs, and over to the front door. He wastes no time in yanking it open and exposing our glamorous friends. Selena takes one look at my dress and launches forward, pulling me into her arms. “Oh my God, O!” she squees. “You look amazing.”
Selena’s black silk gown has Vegas written all over it. She releases me and adjusts one of her tiny pearl earrings. Her golden hair is tied up in an elegant bun on the top of her head with strategic strands that spill from it. I admire her dress—it’s a halter neck with a plunging neckline. It clings to her waist and goes wide at the skirt. From mid-thigh to the floor, there’s a huge slit, exposing the majority of her tan, slim leg.
“Wow, look at you, Ms. Angelina Jolie,” I say, taking a step back.
I think Selena would even look amazing in a tartan patterned plastic bag. She looks elegant, but at the same time, casual, and I wonder if she spent half as long as I did getting ready. Who am I kidding? She probably spent the whole day preparing herself for the dinner.
“So that girl was Seth’s sister?” Selena whispers to me when Darryl and Jackson pull Seth to the side and scold him quietly for last night.
I nod and fidget with the thin, silver bracelet on my wrist. “Yeah—Maddi. Did Jackson tell you?”
“Yep. I bet he never saw that coming.”
I laugh once. “Did you see his reaction? Of course he didn’t see it coming.”
She inches closer to me. “Darryl had a cleaner come up today and clean all of the glass.” I look over my shoulder. All of the destruction is gone. There’s no trace of what happened last night when Seth and I came home. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. How’d Darryl know he smashed things?”
She shrugs. “He knows how Seth is.”
Jesus. How regularly does he smash things?
“There’s a hefty bill Seth has to foot when we leave here, though. The hotel is not impressed and even contacted the MMAC. Darryl has been apologizing on Seth’s behalf since last night.”
I shake my head. I guess that’s what Darryl and Jackson are talking to Seth about. I look at him, there’s the faintest hint of a smirk on the side of his lips and Darryl watches him in exasperation. There’s no getting through to Seth. I find myself smiling at him. He does what he wants and explains himself to nobody—except me. I’m his exception and I guess deep down, I love arguing with him. I like riling him up and watching him become aggressive and demanding. Granted, it’s not the hobby I’m most proud of, but it’s definitely one that excites me above all others. With a swift nod of his head, Seth steps away from Darryl and Jackson, focusing his eyes on me.
I must be still smiling at him because he angles his head ever so slightly, his eyes flaring that over-confident gleam of his. I feel heat pool in my cheeks and flood down the back of my throat before settling in random spots, sending waves of hot flushes through me. I hate getting caught looking at him. He never lets me live it down. Thankfully, he doesn’t say a word in front of the others. I couldn’t handle it if they started pointing it out, too.
I know I look at Seth a lot, but give me a break! He’s kind of hard to ignore and I’m only human. I can’t be held accountable for the decisions my hormones make while they hold my brain at gun point.
Selena, Darryl, and Jackson stroll from the room and once again, Seth extends his elbow to me.
“Are you ready, baby?” he asks me gruffly.
I don’t take his elbow straight away and I don’t answer because this isn’t about me. This is about him. I’m just here for moral support.
“Are you ready? Because this is it—everything you’ve worked so hard for has led to this moment.”
His eyes never leave mine as he ponders my words. “Tonight is going to change both our lives. I need to know if you’re ready for that. If you’re not, I’ll shut this door right now and we can go back to bed. But if you’re ready…” He glances down at his extended elbow. “We’ll go.”
I slip my fingers around his large arm, feeling it all before hooking my elbow around his. “I’m ready.” I exhale with a steady breath.
He smiles widely. “Me too.”
Chapter Nineteen
Seth
The function room is immaculate and beside me I hear Olivia’s breath catch. I take note of all of the things her eyes linger on for more than five seconds—the glass water drop chandeliers, the large pane-free windows and gold edged paintings of some countryside. All of them I’m going to find and put in our house. I want to see her smile and hear her breath catch every time she enters our family home. I quickly notice I’m not the only one watching Olivia, either. There are loads of beautiful women here in dresses more provocative and edgy than Olivia’s, and still the prying eyes of seedy men linger. Every eye in this room snaps towards her, they devour her every dip and curve, but she pays them no attention. She looks up at me and I feel the tension leave my shoulders once our eyes meet. I drop my elbow and grip her waist instead, guiding her with my hand away from the center of the room before I lash out at someone I shouldn’t.
Selena and Jackson disappear immediately and Darryl leaves to do his rounds, introducing himself to all of the ‘right’ people, people that could help my professional career with their knowledge, skills, and endless amounts of money. I don’t need any of it, but Darryl thinks it’s always good to have contacts. ‘You never know when things will go sour and if they do, it’s good to have powerful people behind you,’ Darryl always says and maybe he’s right. A woman, holding a large plate of wine glasses, comes to a stop in front of Olivia and I and we both cringe away from it, still feeling the effects of last night—well—this morning, technically. There’s another reason I avoid alcohol…the hangover. The pound of my brain against the front of my skull hurts.
My eyes flick to a light grey suit, pushing through the sea of black suits and colorful dresses. I recognize the tall, chubby man instantly. Matthew Somer, the CEO of the MMAC. He’s doing pretty well for himself for someone so young—forty three—maybe. He runs his fingers quickly over his black/grey hair and stalks toward us. Olivia slips from my grasp, slightly, but I tighten my hand and hold her against me. I don’t want her walking around without me.
“Seth!” Matt cheers, clapping his hands together twice before extending one to me. “Good to see you, man.”
“You too,” I tell him. I’ve only met Matt once and that was when we were signing my six figure MMAC contract. His eyes pass over me and onto Olivia.
“I’m Matt,” he says, smiling wide and wolfish, making his skin crease around the eyes.
Olivia smiles back, as friendly and as beautiful as ever. “Olivia,” she tells him as he extends his hand to her.
“Olivia, it’s nice to meet you.” He clears his throat and they shake hands briefly. “Do you mind if Seth and I have a quick, private discussion?”
Under my hand, I feel her body sag with relief, but it never shows on her face.
“Not a problem.” She turns to me. “Come find me later.”
I nod and it takes all my strength to pry my fingers from their snug position on her hip. Matt watches Olivia walk away, unashamedly enjoying the way her hips sway.
He shakes his head and turns back to me. Luckily for him, another passing tray of wine swings by us and I pull one off to busy my hands and prevent them from lashing at out.
“The women this sport gets you is insane. Fucking nines and tens, I swear.”
Like he knows anything about nines and tens. To him, nines and tens are the girls everyone has had—the girls everyone wants. Those aren’t tens, take it from me, a ten is a girl who respects herself, who doesn’t ruin her body with vain necessities and endless strokes of cock.
“She was my woman before I made pro,” I tell him, avoiding eye contact. I draw the glass to my lips and take a sip. I can’t believe I’m drinking fucking wine to avoid punching out my boss. I hate wine. I’ve always hated wine, and yet I let the fruity liquid linger for a few seconds on my tongue before I swallow it. “You wanted a private discussion?” I prompt him, eager to ditch him, ditch this wine, and find Olivia.
He smiles and his hazel eyes flare at me. “Wow, you really are the cocky, not-so-subtle asshole everyone’s been warning me about.”
I shrug my shoulders. At least he’s straight to the point. I can admire that. “I am.”
“Self-proclaimed as well, I see?”
I smirk at him. “If the shoe fits, why not wear it?”
“I like you,” Matt says, adjusting the cuffs on his jacket. “And it’s because I like you that I’m choosing not to bring up the fact you trashed your hotel room last night.” He folds his arms. “You’re a fighter, you’re full of testosterone and energy and anger, I get it.”
He shifts his weight, leaning closer to me. “But if you so much as reflect negatively on this sport and my fucking company, I will end you as quickly as I made you. Do you understand?”
I bring the wine glass to my lips to hide a smile. I’ve already pissed off the boss and I haven’t even started work yet. I sip the foul liquid and swallow it. The whole time Matt’s gaze never drops from mine.
“I understand.”
“Good.” He turns and then turns back. “Oh, and by the way, if I want you to fight Don, you will fight Don. I’m the rule maker in this game. I created them and I can change them.” He rubs his fingers together, gesturing all of the money he could make off of us. “Think twice before you go against the MMAC. Don can easily end up the one on top, not you.”
My fingers clench around the slender stem of the wine glass as Matt stalks away before camouflaging himself in with everyone else. Not a second later, I ditch my glass on a nearby table cluttered with all kinds of white and leafy decorative crap. I have to find Olivia, and luckily for me, she’s the only one wearing such a vivid, alluring shade of purple. I stroll around with my hands stuffed in my pockets so I don’t fidget. I’m feeling a little anxious and I don’t know if it’s because of Matt’s words or because I plan to propose to Olivia tonight. I don’t know how many times I’ve planned to ask her…I’ve lost count.
After thirty minutes, I give up and lean against a wide table next to a couple having a disagreement. I tune them out, uninterested in their problems. I let my eyes scan the room—I look up the wide, long staircases and along the walls, but I still can’t see her.