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Oliver was deep in conversation with what I took to be a record exec—some guy in a gray shiny suit who might or might not have been hitting on him. He was the most elegant of the group. Willowy and thoughtful with hazel eyes and golden hair. The
This sweet boy.
“I wasn’t going to send you, and it’s not like I can be seen casually buying condoms in the Hamptons on a Saturday afternoon.” “He’s your bodyguard, Hayes.” “Well, it is guarding a part of my body.” He smiled. “I was trying to be responsible.” “Yes, I appreciate that. It’s just … Your life is so bizarre.”







































