Chapter 19 - Asked Out On A Date ♡︎

The music pulsed through the gym, lights flickering and laughter filling the air as students spun and swayed across the dance floor. Cole stood off to the side with a group of his old football buddies, their voices loud and teasing, stories from past seasons echoing in his ears. But even as he nodded and laughed along, his eyes kept drifting—always finding Olive.

She was sitting alone again, small and delicate in her soft blue dress, her hands nervously twisting in her lap as she tried to blend into the crowd. Cole's chest tightened a little at the sight. He was just about to excuse himself and go back to her when he saw someone else step into view—Dylan.

Olive had stood to make her quiet escape, intending to slip back to her chair in the corner, but when she turned, she bumped straight into Dylan. She gasped softly, immediately apologizing, her voice barely audible over the music. Dylan just chuckled, easygoing as always, flashing her that trademark grin that made half the girls on campus blush.

"Hey," he said smoothly, leaning slightly down so she could hear him better. "Haven't seen you since the lake house party. You disappeared before I got to say a proper goodbye."

Olive's cheeks went warm as she fidgeted, brushing her hair behind her ear. "Oh—um, yeah. I wasn't feeling too good that night," she admitted softly.

Dylan smirked, his eyes glinting. "Yeah, I noticed. You were pretty out of it. But you look a lot better tonight." His gaze dipped briefly, taking in her dress before he added, "Actually, you look more than better—you look beautiful."

Olive blinked, startled. Compliments weren't something she was used to, especially not from someone like Dylan, who carried that easy confidence that made everything he said sound like a line from a movie. "T-Thank you," she stammered, her voice shy but sincere.

Before she could step aside, Dylan offered his hand, palm open, playful smile never fading. "Come on, dance with me."

Olive hesitated, her eyes darting nervously toward where Cole stood across the room, laughing with his friends. She wasn't sure why her chest felt tight seeing him, but she thought maybe it was because she didn't want him to think she was doing something wrong. Still, Dylan was waiting—his hand still out, his expression soft but teasing. So, she nodded timidly, placing her small hand in his.

As the song shifted into a slower rhythm, Dylan pulled her closer—not too close, but enough that Olive's breath caught. He moved easily to the music, guiding her steps with a gentle pressure at her waist. "Relax," he said quietly, smiling down at her. "You're doing fine."

Olive tried to focus on her breathing, her heart hammering in her chest as she looked up at him. Dylan's grin softened as he tilted his head. "You really are cute when you're nervous," he said, his tone teasing but kind. "And that dress? I love it. Brings out your eyes."

Olive's face turned red instantly, her lips parting in surprise. "Oh—I, um... thank you. Jackie helped me pick it out," she mumbled, her words tangling over themselves.

"Jackie's got good taste," Dylan replied, spinning her lightly before catching her hand again. "But I think you make the dress work, not the other way around."

Across the room, Cole's laughter faltered. His eyes narrowed slightly when he saw Dylan's hand on Olive's waist, the way she looked up at him shyly. The noise around him faded into a dull hum. Dylan was doing this on purpose—he had to be. And even if Olive didn't realize it, Cole did. He clenched his jaw, trying to keep his expression neutral, but his green eyes betrayed him.

The music had changed again, a steady beat thumping through the air as laughter and chatter rippled around them. Dylan guided Olive gently in rhythm, his hand still at her waist, his tone light and casual—though his eyes gleamed with something sharper beneath the surface. "You know," he said, smiling faintly, "back at the lake house, I was pretty drunk myself. I think everyone was that night."

Olive glanced up at him shyly, her lashes fluttering. "Yeah... I don't really remember much from that night," she admitted, her words soft, almost apologetic. "It's all kind of blurry. I just remember drinking and feeling really dizzy. Then everything's blank." She rubbed her arm nervously, trying to recall even fragments, but nothing came back except flashes of laughter and the bonfire's glow.

Dylan chuckled, leaning closer so she could hear him over the music. "Well, that explains it. You were definitely out of it. I did see you leave though," he said, his tone shifting slightly, testing the waters. "With Cole. Which was... interesting, to say the least."

Olive blinked up at him, tilting her head. "Oh," she murmured. "Yeah, he took me home because I was really drunk, I think. He—he took care of me, I guess." Her voice trailed off, uncertainty in her tone, as if she wasn't sure what that meant exactly.

Dylan hummed, still moving with her, his expression unreadable for a moment before he smiled again. "Cole taking care of you, huh? That sounds like him. Always the protective type." He said it with a smirk that didn't quite reach his eyes.

Olive didn't know how to respond. She fidgeted, eyes darting away as her cheeks flushed. "He's nice," she said quietly, her voice barely audible. "He's... different."

"Different," Dylan repeated, amused, as though turning the word over in his mind. "Yeah, that's one way to put it." He let a pause stretch between them before glancing down at her again, his grin softening. "You know, Olive," he began, his tone easy but deliberate, "you're actually kind of hard to forget. I've been thinking about asking you something since that night."

Olive blinked, confused, her heart skipping a beat. "Asking me... something?" she echoed hesitantly.

Dylan nodded, his thumb brushing against her hand lightly as they turned with the music. "Yeah," he said, his voice lowering slightly. "How about you let me take you out sometime? Just the two of us. Maybe dinner, or something lowkey. I promise I'm not as bad as everyone says." His smile was playful but steady, his gaze locking with hers.

Olive's eyes widened, her breath catching. She froze mid-step, her heart thundering in her chest. "I—uh..." she started, her mind spinning. No one had ever asked her out before—not seriously—and she had no idea what to say. Her lips parted, fumbling for words, but before a sound could escape, a hand closed around hers and gently but firmly pulled her backward.

"Not happening," Cole's voice cut through the music, sharp and protective.

Dylan blinked, caught off guard, as Cole stepped between them, his tall frame shielding Olive completely. Olive let out a small gasp, eyes darting up at him as he positioned himself in front of her like a wall. Cole's expression was calm, but his green eyes burned with quiet intensity. "What are you doing, Dylan?" he asked evenly, his tone cool but edged with warning.

Dylan's smirk faltered, then returned in a lazier form as he raised his hands slightly. "Relax, man. Just talking. Didn't realize that was off-limits."

Cole's jaw tightened. "It is when it's her," he said flatly, his voice steady but firm.

Olive blinked rapidly, her hands twisting nervously at her sides. "C-Cole," she whispered softly, tugging at his sleeve as if to calm him, but he didn't look back at her. His focus stayed locked on Dylan.

Dylan chuckled under his breath, glancing between the two of them. "So, what—are you her bodyguard now? Or something else?"

Cole's gaze darkened. "Just making sure no one crosses a line," he said simply, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The tension between them was thick, the music and chatter around them fading into the background. Olive's heart pounded in her chest as she peeked around Cole's shoulder, eyes wide, unsure what to do or say.

Dylan finally shrugged, smirking like the whole thing was nothing. "Alright, man. Didn't mean to step on your toes," he said smoothly before turning away and disappearing into the crowd.

Cole let out a slow exhale, his shoulders still tense, then finally turned to Olive. His expression softened when he saw how flustered she looked. "You okay, tiny?" he asked quietly, brushing a stray hair behind her ear.

Olive nodded slowly, still processing everything. "I... I think so," she whispered. "He just asked me out, and I didn't even—"

"I know," Cole interrupted gently, his voice lower now, steadier. "You don't have to explain."

Olive looked up at him, her cheeks still pink. "Cole, you didn't have to—"

"Yes, I did," he said softly, cutting her off again. His green eyes locked with hers, something unspoken hanging heavy in the space between them. "Trust me, tiny. I did."___

Olive swallowed hard, her small frame tense as she stood in front of Cole, the pulsing music and flashing lights of the dance blurring behind her. For a moment, she said nothing, her heart hammering in her chest while Cole looked down at her, his jaw tight and his expression unreadable. His hand was still half-raised, like he wasn't sure whether to reach for her or let her go.

"Tiny," he began, his voice low and firm, though not unkind. "You don't know Dylan like I do. He's not—"

"No," she blurted out, her voice trembling but louder than he expected. Her hands balled into fists at her sides, and though she looked frightened, there was something new in her eyes—something determined. "No, Cole. You- You don't get to decide that for me."

Cole blinked, taken aback. Olive rarely spoke up like that. She'd always been quiet, careful with her words, afraid to make waves. But right now, her voice shook not because she was scared of him, but because she was forcing herself to be brave.

"Tiny," he said again, his tone softening as he stepped toward her. "I'm just trying to keep you from getting hurt."

She shook her head quickly, her eyes glassy. "I know you are," she whispered, her voice cracking. "But I'm not some fragile little girl who needs you to protect her all the time."

Cole exhaled through his nose, clearly fighting to stay calm. "That's not what I think—"

"Yes, it is," Olive said, her voice rising slightly. "You treat me like I can't think for myself. Like I can't make my own decisions. But I can." She hesitated, her voice faltering. "You don't have to keep stepping in and controlling what I do."

Cole stared at her, green eyes flickering between frustration and something softer—something almost like guilt. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to find the right words, but Olive didn't give him the chance.

"I was going to say yes," she said suddenly.

Cole froze. "What?"

Her eyes met his, wide but unwavering. "To Dylan," she said, her tone quiet but firm. "I was going to say yes. To going on a date with him."

The words hit him like a physical blow. He blinked, his jaw tightening as he tried to process what she just said. The noise around them seemed to fade out again, the laughter, the music, everything. All he could hear was the echo of her voice.

"You were going to say yes to Dylan?" he repeated, his voice lower now, laced with disbelief.

Olive nodded, even as her throat tightened and her heart ached. "He's nice to me," she said softly. "He listens when I talk. And he doesn't make me feel like I'm just... some little kid."

Cole took a step closer, his expression hardening slightly. "You don't know what he's really like," he said, his tone deeper now, more protective than ever. "Dylan doesn't care about you the way you think he does."

Her eyes filled with tears, but she refused to look away. "And what about you?" she asked quietly. "What do you care about, Cole? Do you even know what you want?"

That question left him silent. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. His heart twisted because she was right—he didn't know what he wanted. All he knew was that the thought of her with someone else, especially Dylan, made something inside him burn.

When he didn't answer, Olive shook her head slowly, her lip trembling. "That's what I thought," she whispered, and before he could reach for her, before he could say her name again, she turned and bolted.

"Olive—" he called out, but she didn't stop.