Oliver shot Finley a glare sharp enough to cut through the thick tension in the room. "You think you can compare to Josie?"
Finley threw up his hands in surrender. "Man, I can't hold a candle to your precious Josie, alright? I was just running my mouth. My bad, I'll zip it. Happy now?"
Just then, the door to the private booth swung open.
Shay sashayed in, decked out in a plunging black cocktail dress that hugged her curves. Her lush waves cascaded over her shoulders, and her makeup was done to the nines, turning every head in the room.
"Sorry I'm late, guys."
Finley's jaw nearly hit the floor as he stared at Shay, unable to blink. "Shay, look at you! Late? You couldn't be late if you tried."
Oliver set down his wine glass with a clink, his gaze cool as he turned to Finley. "Thought it was just us tonight?"
Shay quickly chimed in, eager to clear the air. "Oliver, don't be mad at Finley. It wasn't his idea to invite me. I heard you guys were hanging out and I just... showed up."
An icy aura seemed to radiate from Oliver as he locked eyes with Shay, his words cutting like a blade. "Shay Cunningham! You're not family, so cut the 'brother' act. It's nauseating!"
With that, Oliver stood up, his anger carrying him swiftly towards the door.
Shay dashed in front of him, blocking his way with a defiant lift of her chin. Her eyes brimmed with tears, her gaze soft and pleading. The delicate skin exposed beneath her collarbone was a siren's call.
"Why do you have to be like this, Oliver? I never wanted to make you angry. That's not why I'm here, I swear."
Finley's heart went out to the pitiful figure Shay cut.
"Oliver, Shay's not out to get you. Let’s just chill out, okay? Sit down, have a drink with us?"
Oliver's glare was icy as he shot back. "You're blind, Finley, but I'm not."


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