We slipped back into our seats at the restaurant, picking up where we'd left off. Olivia sat across from me - no amount of light makeup could disguise those natural features. When she caught me staring, she ducked her head, retreating into shy silence while Scarlett dominated the conversation.
The drinks worked their magic on Vincent. Soon he was regaling us with tales from his construction days, chest puffed out as he recounted how he'd camped in a client's office for three days until they coughed up payment. The girls hung on his every word.
"You're incredible, Vincent," Scarlett breathed, her admiration written all over her face. I shot her a glance - was she actually into this guy?
Vincent swirled his drink. "We've been talking all night, ladies, but I still don't know your full names."
Scarlett jumped in first, her heavy makeup catching the light. "Scarlett Lopez. Used to wait tables until my husband put his foot down - terrible hours, worse pay. That's why I got my cousin Tony to hook me up with the construction gig." She batted her lashes at Vincent. "You'll show me the ropes, won't you?"
Vincent's grin turned wolfish as he grabbed her hand. "Tonight, sweetheart, I'll teach you everything."
"Vincent!" She pretended to scold, cheeks flushing as she pulled away. "People are watching."
The quieter girl in the white tee finally spoke. "Olivia Evans." Her gaze lingered on Vincent's silver bracelet.
"Wait a minute," Scarlett cut in, following Olivia's stare. "Since when are you into jewelry, Vincent? That looks pricey. Why don't you give it to me?"
Vincent cleared his throat. "Sorry, babe. This was a gift. But I'll get you something nicer." Scarlett's pout could've soured milk.
Turning to Olivia, Vincent feigned concern. "So what's up with your dad?"
"Heart condition," she murmured.
"Tell him to take it easy. Stress'll kill you faster than cigarettes." The sudden silence stretched until Vincent broke it with a crude joke about centenarians and ugly wives.
Most women would've blushed. Scarlett just laughed. "So his wife being ugly was actually a blessing?"
Vincent traced her cheekbone. "I'll take pretty and die young any day."
"Vincent!" She giggled, swatting him away. Since when did women get so forward?
"Seriously though," Vincent smirked, "your husband's cool with you working construction alone?"
Scarlett rolled her eyes. "Back in our podunk hometown building houses. Dull as dishwater - nothing like you with your silver tongue." The innuendo dripped like honey.
Their banter grew steamier by the minute while Olivia sat eyes closed, pretending to meditate, and I studied the window like it held life's answers.
Vincent raised an eyebrow. "Married young, huh?"
"Small town thing," Scarlett shrugged before turning her laser focus on me. "You're awfully quiet. Don't tell me you're still a virgin."
My forced smile probably looked more like a grimace. She wasn't wrong - between college prep and odd jobs, dating never made the priority list.
Olivia's eyes fluttered open. "Your name?" she asked me quietly.
"Ethan Anderson."
She nodded once, then retreated back into silence while Scarlett and Vincent's raunchy repartee filled the air.
Later, at a dingy barbecue stand, Vincent frowned at the empty streets. "Too far to walk, and I've been drinking. Ethan doesn't drive. Hotel it is."
Scarlett's sultry look could've melted steel. "Guess we're stuck."
Olivia studied her shoes.
Vincent's grin deepened every wrinkle on his face. "Relax - girls take one room, Ethan and I take the other. Perfectly proper."
After checking in, Vincent cornered me. "Both are prime cuts, but I like mine with more curves. Olivia's quiet, but damn. She's all yours."
I froze.
"Christ, kid," he sighed. "Just keep her out of my way. Don't cockblock me."
Upstairs, he handed Scarlett a key. "You girls take this one." Scarlett's answering look could've set the wallpaper on fire as she disappeared inside, Olivia trailing behind.
Vincent stared after them, practically salivating at how Olivia's clothes clung in the hallway light.
"Come on, man. Let's turn in," I tried.
He winked. "Night's just getting started."
Minutes later, Vincent was pounding on their door. Olivia answered, now in a jacket. "Vincent? What-"
He bulldozed past her toward the bathroom.
"Wait! Scarlett's showering!" Olivia chased after him, her panic making her petite frame tremble.
My mouth went dry. I got it now - no man could resist that combination of innocence and curves.
Olivia turned to me, bewildered. "Why would he-?"
A shriek cut through the room, followed by... other sounds.
"Vincent! I'm not even-!" Scarlett's protest dissolved into muffled moans.
Behind the frosted glass, silhouettes merged.
Olivia stood petrified. "This is... normal?" she whispered.
I rubbed my temples. Even I wanted to crawl out of my skin from secondhand embarrassment.
The autumn chill seeped through Olivia's thin jacket, making her shiver violently.
"Take my room," I blurted. "You get the bed. I'll take the floor."
As I led her away, the moment our door closed, slender fingers grasped mine. That sweet floral scent hit me first - then I turned to find not Olivia, but Scarlett standing there, lips parted, cheeks flushed.
"The bed's big enough for two," she murmured, pulling me closer. "Stay with me."