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On Wednesday night, just after midnight, she'd officially declared herself the winner of the war against the nameless hacking troll who'd tried (and almost succeeded) to tear her down. It was a long and exhausting fight that she'd almost lost her grip on a couple of times. Almost.
The hacker had made one mistake that would prove to cost him dearly. There had been wave after wave of little, focused breaches of her usually impenetrable security, which meant that she had little breaks in between that she could use to dispatch string upon string of code to patch and reinforce the holes in her system. One after one, those temporary repairs always bought a little more time in between attacks, and she made good use of that time.
It was sometime on Tuesday afternoon while she was munching away on one of the cold but still delicious Big Belly Burgers that Oliver had left behind when she realized the attacker's critical mistake. Even though the DNS hadn't been configured, the subroot had been, and by accessing one of the most inner layers of her system the wank had set off a packets' feedback that she was able to back trace to a virtual IP address. It wasn't a physical location because the address was rerouted so many times that it made her dizzy, but it was still a massive victory.
After that welcome turn of events she'd gone on the offensive. Let it be said, that you don't ever want to be on the receiving end of one of Felicity Smoak's hacks. Within hours she'd obliterated his system, using the renewed surge of energy, she'd used a skeleton key to penetrate his system and sent a kill code that fried his entire system.
BOOM! Win for Felicity Smoak.
Even though the quick look around his system that she'd allowed herself before the destruction hadn't yielded any hard evidence to the hacker's identity, she only knew one person that was good and stupid enough to even attempt to attack her. It's the one person she never wanted to think about again.
She'd almost cracked and told Iris and Caitlin about her suspicions when she'd checked in with them to let them know everything was okay. But she'd choked, deciding it was better to leave that particularly nasty can of worms unopened.
He'd already dominated her life once before, and she'd sworn herself to never let it happen again. Not now, not ever. She's not the naïve, gullible woman that had let him bully her around. No, the last piece of that Felicity had died the moment his fist had connected with her body for the first time. The last trace of her mostly carefree life had been washed away in a mixture of rain and blood as he'd left her to die in a dark alley in Boston.
She shudders violently when all those feelings and emotions she's been bottling up for years rush back all at once. The fear, the pain, the despair, the hopelessness. She lets it all wash over her for ten seconds, promising herself to never feel that way again, before she forcefully pushes all of it down, back into the box that she never lets herself so much as think of.
She angrily wipes at the single tear that is slowly making its way down her cheek. She's cried enough over the coward and she's just done. He doesn't deserve her tears, not after all the emotional and physical horrors he put her through.
With all her might she pulls herself out of the depressing thoughts of her past and back into the here and now. God knows she has a big enough problem in the present: an unfairly handsome and charming award-winning actor that she's able to call her friend for reasons that still evade her grasp. At least she hopes she can still call him a friend.
She'd tried calling and texting Oliver a good dozen times all day yesterday and today, but the only sign of life she'd gotten yesterday was a short 'Sorry, busy w/ promotions all day-O'.
The sudden feeling of rejection had hit her hard and fast and she'd swallowed heavily against the emotions that had constricted her throat. A part of her tells her that she deserves his brusque answer, of course, after the way she'd treated him, but it still hurts.
Even though, if she's honest, she only has pretty hazy memories of what exactly happened between them. Those three days of constantly being on edge are a blurry mess of images and words flung around, but nothing very specific. Diggle's pointed glare when she'd asked him how bad it'd been told her all she needed to know.
But now, after getting two full nights of sleep, catching up on her meals and taking several long baths to relax her stiff and tired muscles, she finally feels like herself again and like she's ready to face him and apologize.
It was during one of those long baths that she decided on a course of action. She'd texted him a few more times throughout the day to see if he'd be home tonight, but after not receiving an answer all day, she'd decided (with an air of annoyance) to confront him directly without waiting for him to answer.
She knows that she's the one that needs to apologize, but for goodness sake, it's not that hard to at least acknowledge her attempts by texting back a simple 'ok' or 'no, leave me alone' or actually picking up the fucking phone. Anything would be better than this oppressing silence. They're adults, damnit, and adults talk about issues and don't pull this high school silent treatment shit!
But she'd swallowed down her frustrations this afternoon and had gone shopping instead, which is why she now finds herself in front of Oliver's door with two pints of ice cream – mint chip for her, chocolate fudge brownie for him - a really nice bottle of red wine and a bag of Arcus' favorite treats.
Her wide, hopeful smile falls quickly when the door is yanked open and she's faced with a beautiful redhead instead of Oliver. The woman looks vaguely familiar, but Felicity just can't place her in that moment.
"Uh, hi," she stutters out, "is… is Oliver home?"
The redhead narrows her eyes in barely held back disdain, chewing loudly on some gum. "Who are you?"
"I'm Felicity, I'm his… uh… neighbor," she finishes lamely, not sure how to categorize herself in front of his… guest.
"Are we too loud?" Red asks around her gum. And seriously, can she please close her fucking mouth while chewing?!
Only now Felicity realizes that there's music and voices drifting over from inside the apartment. Huh, that probably means she can trudge back down to her place and spend another evening without seeing him and clearing the air.
"No," she settles on answering, "I actually live two floors down, so I didn't hear a peep."
"Well, then what do you want?"
Isn't that a good question? She wants to be back in his comforting arms, she wants to turn back time to a perfect Sunday morning (however short it had lasted), she wants to apologize, she wants to run far, far away because he's clearly busy and not agonizing over their time apart like she is.
She's about to do just that and make a hasty retreat, when Oliver's familiar frame appears out of seemingly nowhere behind the redhead. "What's going on, Carrie?"
Of course. Carrie, as in Carrie Cutter, it suddenly clicks in her head. She's one of his costars in the new movie that's scheduled to be released soon, but since she's usually a blonde, Felicity didn't recognize her at first.
With a pang, she flashes back to the various Page Six headlines of the rumored on-set affair between Oliver and Carrie that allegedly started right when filming commenced. Rumors that Oliver had vehemently denied multiple times through his publicists, but still… some pretty suggestive photos of the two after a night out with the entire cast hadn't exactly supported his denial.
"Just some crazy fan who says she's your neighbor," Carrie almost purrs at him, wrapping her hands possessively around his bicep.
"Hey!" she exclaims indignantly before she can stop herself. "I'm not crazy."
"Whatevs," Carrie shoots back with a disinterested look.
"Felicity?" Oliver asks, sounding equal parts surprised and confused, but not necessarily unhappy.
"Yeah, hey, hi," she answers with a wince. And great, she's back to stuttering like an idiot apparently. "I texted you… a couple of times and then thought I'd just stop by and see if you wanted to hang out, but clearly you're busy, so I'll just…" she awkwardly points her thumb behind her towards the elevator.
"No, wait," he exclaims hurriedly and extricates himself out of Carrie's grip, before dismissing her with a simple, "Please give us a minute, Carrie," which earns Felicity a venomous glare from the redhead before she trudges back into the apartment.
"I'm sorry," they blurt out at the same time after a slightly awkward beat of silence.
Oliver chuckles at the comical timing and Felicity quickly uses the opportunity to speak. "Wait, what the hell would you be sorry for?" she asks, seriously confused. She's the one who acted like a bitch.
He steps closer, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck. "Uh, for not replying to your texts and calls and, you know, for barging in like I did on Tuesday."
"Oliver," she tries to protest, but is swiftly cut off by him.
"No, look," he sighs, "Diggle warned me of what could happen if I interrupted you only minutes before I came up to see you and I chose to ignore it because..." he cuts himself off with a tiny shake of his head and tries again, "I should've listened to him, but instead I thought I could magically convince you to take a break and when that didn't happen I reacted like a petulant child and ignored your texts and calls."
How is this man even for real? Here he is taking the blame for what happened.
"I don't deserve you," she mutters, staring at him with wide, disbelieving eyes while quickly putting down the bag of goodies and closing the gap between them, engulfing him in a tight hug. And good god, had she missed being in his arms.
"No," he whispers into her hair, "you deserve much better."
She pulls back a little, not enough to leave his embrace, but enough to look up and meet his gaze. "Don't say that, Oliver. You're a good man! Tuesday proved that once again. Not to mention what you just did right here."
He smiles down at her with a hopeful twist of his lips. "So we're okay?"
"Not yet," she says, tightening her hold in reassurance when his smile falters. "It's my turn to apologize."
"You were stressed out and worried and you really don't have to-"
"Yes, I do," she cuts him off. "The circumstances of the situation don't excuse how I reacted. I should've never lashed out with words when all you were trying to do was get me to take care of myself. So, I want to thank you for bringing me my favorite food, and say that I'm truly sorry for kicking you out like I did." She has to swallow heavily against the onslaught of emotions before she can continue, "I honestly don't know what I said. It's all one big blur of memories, but from your reaction I can tell that I hurt you and that's something I never wanted to do."
He nods slowly, a beautiful smile making its way back onto his lips. "You're forgiven."
She wants to protest and tell him that she needs to do more to earn his forgiveness, but the soft glint in his eyes and his beaming smile rob her of any words, so she lets him pull her back against his chest where she takes a deep, reassuring breath.
Everything is okay.
"Did everything turn out alright at the company?" he mumbles into her hair after a minute or two.
"Yeah," she sighs, "I patched up everything and my employees are sifting through the data to make sure no confidential information was stolen, but so far so good."
"Do you think whoever did this was after something specific?"
"I honestly have no idea," she answers, some of her frustrations seeping back in. "It was a powerful attack, nothing I've ever experienced at the company before, but at the same time it was kind of aimless. The virus just kept attacking different areas without any distinct pattern or obvious goal behind it. It almost seems like it was just for the heck of it, maybe a test run to get a feeling for my security, but not to steal or destroy anything. Not this time at least."
"Do you know who was behind it?"
She stiffens a little in his arms, her mind going back to an all too familiar and unwelcome face.
This time Oliver pulls back a little to lock his eyes on hers with barely contained concern. "Felicity?"
She bites her lip in contemplation. She's not ready to share this particular part of her life with him, especially not while they're standing in the hallway in front of his apartment while he has other guests he should probably get back to. Not to mention the precious ice cream that is currently melting in the bag that's sitting on the floor next to them.
"I have a hunch who it might be," she finally admits, "but I have no hard evidence to prove it, just a gut feeling."
Oliver's eyebrows draw together in a mixture of concern and curiosity. "Someone you know?"
"Someone I used to know and would rather not meet again," she says decidedly and sighs. "Whoever it really was, I've destroyed his system and put extra precautions in my own security into effect, so I hope there won't be a repeat of what happened anytime soon."
The look in his eyes tells her that he wants to press her for more information on the identity of the hacker and what happened the last time they crossed paths, but she just shakes her head and leans back against his chest, letting the steady beat of his heart calm the erratic one of her own.
One of his hands moves soothingly over her back, right along her spine, the other sprawled softly against the small of her back, emitting a reassuring warmth. "I'm here when you're ready to talk about it," he whispers into her ear, making her shudder at how deliciously his hot breath hits the shell of her ear, while a huge wave of gratitude ripples through her body.
Has she mentioned that she doesn't deserve this man?
"Well, well, well," a female voice rips them out of their intimate moment, "if it isn't brother dearest in the arms of yet another woman. And here the world had thought you'd left your philandering days behind you. Guess Tommy was right after all."
"Thea," Oliver acknowledges the appearance of what seems to be his sister, Felicity realizes with a slight bout of horror, without loosening his grip on her.
"Is she the same gold-digger from a few weeks ago or a different one?"
Wow! What's even happening right now? Why are people from Oliver's life always labeling her as the floozy of the hour before even talking to her?
"Twenty plus years of knowing Tommy should've taught you by now that you shouldn't believe everything he says," Oliver grumbles back, lips still dangerously close to her ear. And holy crap, his growly, super sexy voice is back. Talk about instant aphrodisiac!
"So you're saying he lied to me?" Even with her face pressed against Oliver's chest, turned away from the younger Queen, Felicity can hear the serious doubt and slight animosity in her voice. "You didn't kick him out to be alone with a woman he'd never seen you with before? You didn't threaten to punch him even though she was the one who insulted him?"
"No, he didn't lie, but it seems like he told you a very one-sided version of what happened," Oliver exclaims, pulling away from Felicity to face his sister, a look of irritation on his face. "He was a drunk asshole and he would've deserved a hard slap in the face for the things he said."
Thea studies him for a few seconds, taking in the new information before her inquisitive gaze lands on the blonde woman in front of her who may or may not squirm a little under the scrutiny. It's in that moment that Felicity's eternally grateful for not choosing to stay in her comfort clothes of sweatpants and an oversized hoodie and has instead opted for throwing on actual clothes before coming up here. The dark jeans and loose shirt probably still don't make a super positive impression in Thea Queen's fashion book, but it's definitely better than the alternative.
After too many beats of silence, Oliver sighs audibly, resigning himself to the inevitability of the two women meeting for the first time. He motions between them. "Thea, this is my friend Felicity. Felicity, this is my sister Thea."
They shake hands amicably, but Thea's eyes narrow at the introduction. "Wait, are you the Felicity?"
"Uh, well, I'm a Felicity. There's quite a few others with that name out there, even if it's not the most common one," the blonde answers in confusion that only grows when she sees a little red shimmer appear on Oliver's cheeks.
"I think we should go inside," he suggests a little bit too quickly and tries to usher them inside, but Thea is having none of it, digging her heels into the ground.
"No, I mean you're Ollie's Felicity. I swear the man hasn't stopped talking about you ever since you guys met. It's always 'Felicity did this' or 'Felicity said that'. It would be super cute if it didn't make me wanna puke rainbows from all the fluffy happiness," the younger woman tells her, undeterred by the daggers a blushing Oliver is throwing her way.
If Felicity's honest, the one-eighty the younger woman just pulled has the potential of giving her whiplash, but then again, a gushing Thea is better than a not so passive aggressive Thea.
But wait a second! Oliver had told his sister about her? Repeatedly?
"You told her about me?" she asks, turning to the man in question, her tone somewhere between incredulous and teasing.
His eyes widen a little and he opens and closes his mouth unsuccessfully a few times before words finally tumble out in a stutter, "Uhhh… I mean… I've… yeah, I've told her about, you know, stuff."
"Is it true that you get along with Arcus like crazy and that you looked after him only one day after meeting him for the first time?" Thea interjects, barely containing her laughter at her brother's unusually flustered behavior.
Felicity smirks at Oliver before turning to his sister. "Yeah, we had a real bonding experience with the whole being stuck in an elevator thing, I guess," she shrugs lightly.
Thea chuckles at that, but sobers quickly when a thought seems to hit her. "But wait, are you the same blonde woman that Tommy met here a few weeks ago?"
"Unfortunately, yes," Felicity answers before Oliver can.
"But what happened? If you're actually as amazing as Ollie has made you out to be, I can't imagine that Tommy wouldn't like you."
"I guess we just got off on the wrong foot?"
"No," Oliver interrupts, "you did nothing wrong. He was being a major dick that night and kept insulting you, so I kicked him out."
"He told me that you kicked him out so you could, and I quote, 'hook up with the blonde gold digger bitch'," Thea argues with growing confusion, clearly torn between the two versions of what happened.
Oliver had told Felicity one evening about how Tommy has basically been an honorary member of the Queen family his entire life, spending more time at their place than at his own. All through their childhood he'd been more like another brother to the Queen siblings than just a friend of the family, so she can understand that Thea must be struggling to decide which brother she should believe.
Felicity watches how Oliver's whole demeanor changes, taking on the same apprehension he'd had during the night in question. His jaw's clenched, hands balled up into tight fists, and a dangerous energy is radiating off his body.
"Well, that's not what happened," she quickly throws in, hoping to calm Oliver down with her voice. "He didn't just verbally attack me, though, he also threw some nasty words at your brother, so he absolutely deserved to be kicked out."
Thea's eyebrows furrow in contemplation. "He has been acting a bit off these past few months, but I thought it was just because of work or something. I'll see if I can talk some sense into him." She claps her hands together then, startling the others. "How about we start over?" She suggests but plows on without waiting for an answer, "Are you two coming inside or should I tell everybody else that we're relocating the party to the hallway?" she quips, cutting right through the terse atmosphere.
"Uh, I actually didn't come to crash your shindig," Felicity says and then adds, "Well, I guess I kinda already did, but I didn't know you were having friends over, so it wasn't an intentional crashing of your shindig."
"It's fine, Felicity," Oliver stops her ramble with a chuckle. "I'm just having a few of my cast mates over because they're all in town for a big panel we're doing on the weekend and we all haven't seen each other since we wrapped filming last summer."
"Oh, well, then that's all the more reason to leave you to it and catch you another time," she tries again. "I really don't mean to intrude."
"Nonsense," Thea comes to her brother's help, and great, they're teaming up against her. "I already crashed this thing and invited myself over so I could meet Roy Harper. He's such a hottie," she gushes, totally ignoring the disgusted look from Oliver. "Speaking of which, I'm sure he's wondering what's taking me so long. Felicity, regardless of your decision, it's nice to finally put a face to the name. I hope to see more of you from now on."
Without waiting for a response she rushes back inside, leaving the two standing alone in the hallway again.
"Well, what do you think? Are you joining us?"
How can she say 'no' when he's giving her his insanely cute puppy dog eyes?
"Fine, but I'd like a rain check on ice cream and red wine night," she warns him as she picks up the forgotten bag, trying to cover up the way she basically starts to swoon when he smiles happily at her.
"Definitely," he promises, and then stops her with a hand to her forearm when she tries to move past him, color rising back to his cheeks. "And just for the record, Thea was exaggerating back there. I don't talk about you that much. Not in a creepy, stalker-y way, ya know," he babbles.
She just lets out an indulgent sigh and steps on her tiptoes, closing the distance to his ear. "Don't worry about it. I think we're even on that front. I talk about you, too," she assures him and presses a sweet kiss to his stubbled cheek, before sauntering past him and into his apartment, adding just a little more sway to her hips.
She swears she hears him mutter an almost desperate, "Sweet Jesus", when she's a few feet in front of him.
⁂ ⁂ ⁂ ARROW ⁂ ⁂ ⁂
This is a bad idea.
A Bad Idea.
How could he have ever thought that it'd be a good idea to introduce Felicity to his cast mates?
Somehow she'd managed to wrap every single person around her little finger in a matter of seconds within introducing herself and starting an epic fan girl babble on how she was seconds away from a nervous breakdown over all the hotness in the room.
Two of his male co-stars, Ray Palmer and Jay Garrick, had appointed themselves her personal entertainment for the night, whisking her away to the couch to talk to her. He's not sure if she somehow sensed his wariness or if it was just a coincidence that she looked up at him before leaving with the two men, giving him a wink to let him know she was okay with the situation.
So he'd relaxed a bit, grabbing another beer and going back to mingling with the others, always keeping one eye on his bubbly blonde who'd sat down on the couch, already a glass of red wine in one hand, gesticulating wildly with the other in typical Felicity fashion. Needless to say that Palmer and Garrick were staring at her in wonder, eyes basically glued to her lips, eagerly lapping up every word.
Of course they hadn't been the only ones. Arcus hadn't left her side ever since spotting her, and the love-whore of a dog had chosen to sit right in front of her, head in her lap, nudging her with his nose whenever her fingers dare to stop carding through his fur.
Despite not being super happy about not being able to stay by her side, Oliver had felt a surge of pride at seeing how seamlessly this incredible woman managed to fit into yet another part of his life.
A feeling that had quickly turned into irritation when he'd watched with a deep scowl as the two men had escorted her over to the pool table, making a very hands-on show out of teaching her how to hold the cue and lining up a shot.
"You'll break the bottle if you squeeze any harder, Ollie," his sister teases him after he apparently spaced out on their conversation. Again.
He forces his hands to relax the death grip and turns his focus back to his annoyingly perceptive sibling.
"Are you going to do anything about that?" she presses on, lifting a questioning eyebrow and pointing her glass in the direction of the pool table.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he answers through gritted teeth.
"Really? You don't know what I'm talking about? That's what you're going with?" she scoffs in return. "Your eyes are basically shooting daggers into the poor guys."
He furrows his brows, trying to get his expression under control. "I'm doing no such thing."
"Ollie, you haven't taken your eyes off of that woman, glaring at every man that talks to her or simply stands too close to her for that matter. You look like a goddamn puppy that had his favorite toy stolen."
"She's not a toy, Thea," he hisses before he can stop himself.
His sister studies him for a few seconds before beginning to speak again, weighing her words carefully, "You like her." It's a simple enough statement, but somehow it carries so much more weight with it.
He swallows hard and nods jerkily, finding his sister's eyes. "Yeah, I do. She's…" he trails off, running a frustrated hand through his hair, trying to think of an adequate way of describing her. "She's amazing, Thea. She's smart and funny and, look at her, she's absolutely beautiful. There's nothing fake about her, she's just herself all the time. And, you know, she's actually a really successful business woman. That new photo app you can't stop talking about? Her company developed that." Yeah, okay, maybe he's gushing a bit. But how can you not when talking about Felicity?
"Wow, seriously?" she asks, turning her awed gaze towards the blonde across the room.
"Yeah," he replies with a note of pride. "She's like the total package."
"She must be or otherwise you wouldn't have threatened to punch your best friend," Thea points out gently, clearly fishing for the whole story of what happened.
Oliver sighs and takes a long swig from his beer, contemplating his response. "Tommy and I haven't been on the same page for a while now," he finally offers.
"Yeah, but he's your best friend. You've gone through rough patches before."
"We have, but this is different. He doesn't accept the fact that I've changed and that I'm not interested in getting shitfaced every other night and hooking up with random girls anymore. Maybe he's not as bad as he used to be a few years ago, but still, it's like at some point I turned left and he turned right and he still thinks we're on the same path while we're just not."
"Well, maybe that's partly because you never did tell us why you suddenly changed?" His sister questions without any accusation in her tone. "Don't get me wrong, Ollie, I'm glad that you changed and that you got your shit together. For so many years I felt like I had lost my brother to the Hollywood frenzy, and then suddenly I had my Ollie back. The one that would stay with me instead of going out with his friends when mom and dad went on a business trip and left us with the staff, and not the one that I only ever got to see on magazine covers and movie posters for so many years. But while I'm glad that you changed, I also don't know the reason behind it. Same thing goes for Tommy."
"Thea," he starts, not sure what he's supposed to say.
She cuts him off with a raised hand and a firm shake of her head. "My point is that the difference between Tommy and me is that I'm willing to wait until you're ready to explain what happened and just be grateful to have you back in my life until then. I think Tommy feels like after all the things you've gone through over the years you decided to just ditch him and do your own thing and never even tell him why."
"I don't think he'd understand," he sighs. "Apart from the fact that he's working in his dad's company now, he's literally the same playboy asshole that he was seven or eight years ago. And yes, before you say anything, I was right there with him back then, but I'm not anymore and now I just don't understand his behavior." He lets out an angry breath, remembering that night with Felicity. "God, you would've wanted to punch him, too, for the things he said, Speedy. I wasn't just angry, I was actually embarrassed to call him my best friend."
"How did Felicity react? Tommy said she insulted him?"
He chuckles in response, "Well, she did basically tell him that he was a dick."
"Woah, no wonder he was pissed," Thea guffaws at the mental image of Tommy being put in his place by the tiny blonde. "Did you brood alone in the dark afterwards?"
"Haha," he says dryly. "And no, Felicity stayed and we talked a little more."
"Huh, she really does have you wrapped around her little finger, doesn't she?"
He knows that it's meant to be a joke, but he can't find it in him to deny his sister's assessment. He's without a shred of a doubt completely and irrevocably wrapped around Felicity's little finger.
His gaze drifts over to the blonde that has been occupying the majority of his thoughts for the past couple of months. Her head is thrown back in laughter at whatever Palmer said, Arcus still diligently by her feet. Good god, if a happy and laughing Felicity isn't a sight to behold.
"So again, what are you going to do about it?" Thea rips through his musings once more. "She looks pretty chummy with Ray over there. Might wanna get into the game before he makes his move and snatches her away from you," she warns him playfully, patting his chest before sauntering off to probably find that little punk Roy again.
He glares after her for being so annoyingly observant once again, trying and absolutely failing to not let the thought of the other actor making a move on his girl get to him.
His girl?
Fuck! Felicity would have his head if she knew that he was being such a possessive Neanderthal in his head.
Emptying his bottle and taking a calming breath, he makes his way over to the little group surrounding the pool table, catching the tail end of their conversation.
"I'd be happy to show you again how to hold the cue correctly, Felicity. I'm sure my superior teaching skills would have you beat every single person in this room by the end of the night," Palmer suggests, stepping closer to her. That asshole.
"What's happening over here?" he cuts in, jaw clenched a little too tightly.
Felicity's lips tick up in a soft smile but quickly morph back into the displeased frown. "I lost," she grumbles, motioning towards the pool table behind her that still holds quite a few striped balls.
"But you did sink two balls," Garrick points out with an encouraging smile. "That's not too shabby for playing the first time."
"Well, how about the two of us have a go at it?" Oliver suggests, holding out his hand to accept the cue stick from Palmer who gives it to him reluctantly. "And to give you some extra motivation we can add a little wager."
Her eyebrows shoot up in curiosity. "What kind of a wager?"
"Mhh," he hums in contemplation. "How about if you sink more than five of your balls, I'll cook dinner for you?"
She bites her bottom lip and smiles sweetly up at him. "You already do that on a semi regular basis, so that wouldn't be different than how we usually spend our nights." She slams her eyes shut and shakes her head. "You know what I mean."
Yes, yes he does. And now maybe Palmer and Garrick will take a hint and back the fuck off.
"Alright, what do you propose?" he challenges her playfully, letting everything else around them turn into white noise in the background.
"How about if I sink five or more of my balls you give me a neck and shoulder massage," she suggests after a few moments of contemplation, coy smile playing on her lips.
"Okay," he says slowly, voice involuntarily an octave lower than usual. Where did that idea come from? "What if you don't get five?"
She licks her lips slowly, stepping closer to him, well into his personal space. "Then I'll give you the massage."
Fuck.
Is it getting hot in here? Because, holy hell, this woman is going to be the death of him.
He swallows heavily, forcing down all the images that enter his mind at the thought of her fingers running over his shoulders and…
"Deal?" she asks, stretching out her hand for him to shake, beaming up at him.
"Bring it, Smoak," he replies with as much confidence as he can muster, which isn't actually all that much, considering that he can't believe what he just got himself into, while gently shaking her soft hand.
"Oh, I will, Queen. Better buckle up," she throws over her shoulder and bends over the table to collect the remaining balls, sticking her glorious jean-clad butt out towards him.
Yup, he's completely screwed.
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