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Drop Dead Dirty
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:
Oliver Kent isn’t just drop dead gorgeous…
I haven’t seen him in a decade. Ten whole years since Oliver Kent broke my heart and we said goodbye to our teenage dreams forever.
They say he’s a crazy successful businessman now, living wild in London with a huge bank balance.
And me? Well, I’m still here living the same old small-town life, pretty sure I’ll never see him again.
Until rumour has it that he’s going to be at our high school reunion…
How the damn hell is a girl supposed to cope with the Oliver Kent effect all over again?
It’s a whole fresh round of want. Filthy, dirty want for the boy who drove me wild with his filthy, dirty fantasies. So many memories aching for more.
Just as well life sometimes gives out second chances, isn’t it?
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“Have you heard, Maisie? Surely you’ve heard?! Oliver Kent is coming back! Here. HERE! Can you believe it?!”
It came as a bolt from nowhere. A string of animated words flying over as I coasted through work on a regular Wednesday afternoon with my regular customer-friendly smile on my face.
The surprise in Eleanor’s eyes as they locked on mine across the checkout counter was enough that my belly lurched and tumbled, spinning like a washing cycle as her words registered.
No. Surely not.
Surely Oliver Kent couldn’t be coming back here. Now. To quiet, quaint little Much Arlock with its small-town drama and little else. To our steady community of same old, with its whispers and gossip.
My hand dithered in mid-air, her pack of bananas paused before the bleep, rendered immobile by the hard slam of his potential reappearance in my world.
No. It couldn’t be.
Surely Oliver Kent wasn’t coming back here. Not anytime this century.
He was done with this place. With its whispers and gossip and small-time everything.
Oliver Kent. The boy who hadn’t been known to step foot in this vicinity for the entire past decade. The boy who’d shot for the stars and the big smoke of London as soon as high school kicked out and had never looked back. Who’d never needed to look back.
Oliver Kent. The boy who’d turned into a man ripe to fuel constant rumours in this town. Who’d set up some swanky, highbrow electronic testing business and was now turning over some insane figure every year. A bank balance figure everyone in this town speculated over whenever tongues got wagging, usually on group chats on social media, or over a couple of beers in the local pub at night, or at supermarket checkouts whenever I was serving.
Especially when I was serving.
And so they would.
Oliver Kent. The boy who still held my heart as tightly as he ever had, back when we were young kids with big dreams, professing undying love and an undying future together.
Eleanor’s grin was bright, her eyes demanding a response as I forced myself back into some kind of order. She’d always been one of the bossy types, ever since we were pre-schoolers sharing out the ride-on toys. Always had that posh-girl confidence through the years.
I bleeped her bananas through the barcode scanner and dropped them into her bag for forever.
“Ollie’s coming back here?” I asked, hating how flimsy my voice sounded. “Why would he be coming back here? His parents moved away years ago…”
She tossed her head to the side like I was some kind of idiot for asking the question. And I knew it. I knew it before she answered. I should have known it before she answered, too. My ex-school comrades had been talking of little else for months.
“The reunion!” she told me. “He’s coming back for the high school reunion, of course! Even he clearly thinks it’s worthy of a cross-country commute.”
“Ah, yes, the reunion…” I replied, hoping I sounded a little more joyous than I felt at the thought.
But I didn’t.
Her eyes narrowed as she responded. “You are coming, right? We can’t get to ten whole years out of Much Arlock High School and not at least have a decent reunion gig. Not even you, goodie-two-shoes-Maisie-Moore who’s barely been on a night out in months. There’s no way you’re missing it! Especially not if Oliver Kent is coming back!”
I hated how my cheeks were burning, suddenly wishing I’d at least pasted on a layer of foundation that morning.
“I’m supposed to be coming,” I told her, and I wasn’t lying. I’d been strong armed into it for weeks. Kate and Amy would never let me live it down in a thousand years if I didn’t head out with them for the decade recap. I was blood-bound for at least a couple of proseccos.
Still. I hadn’t expected Ollie would be showing up when I’d agreed to it, though. Hadn’t thought for a second he’d be back in this part of the world and hemmed into the community centre with the rest of us on our reunion night out.
There was no doubt that everyone else in the whole school year would be attending now, if he was. It would be the event of the year – so many people nosing, asking questions, trying to work out what streak of crazy fortune or talent had made him such a winner amongst the rest of us.
I could have told them plenty about Ollie’s talents for free, back then as much as now, only nobody would have listened back then. Nobody would have cared a crap for news about Oliver Kent back when he was a regular amongst the rest of us.
I couldn’t stop looking at Eleanor as I bleeped through the rest of her lunchtime shop. Her expression was illuminated, brows high and cheeks bright. She was buzzing with life, unmistakably so, blatantly beyond excited by the thought of Ollie coming back to this tiny town with its tiny dreams for them to all gawp and stare at.