Maxxie Oliver Skins Novels & Stories

It’s a cavernous void of concrete and steel beams, broken up by the hulking frames of four customized motorcycles parked near the center. Flooded by the harsh glare of portable halogen work lights, the team is already set up. Folding tables covered in hardware and monitors sit right alongside grease-stained tool chests. Max is the first to look up. The massive man breaks into a wide grin when he sees Oliver, and my back is immediately up. "Look who survived the ivory tower!" Max calls out, wiping his hands on his grease-stained jeans after dropping the heavy wrench he was using onto the floor. "Of course he is in one piece," I state coldly, walking past Max without slowing down.

Jayden still had three more reports to assess when the door to his office flew open, forcing him to look up to see who it might be. He found Maxwell Fitzgerald, his best friend of over a decade, standing in his office looking like a fire-breathing bull, ready to spear him out of his seventh-floor office. Jayden knew Oliver's reaction at the business people submit was mild compared to what Max's reaction would be, and he was right. Oliver was his friend and a part of the troublemakers' cliques, but Max was Jayden's best friend, and they had never kept anything from each other until now.

"Max, whatever it is you need to tell me, it has to be here and now." Max held his breath, sensing the weight of his confession and uncertain of how Chloe would react. He tightened his grasp on her hand, drawing strength from their connection. "The meeting with Mr. Singh didn't go well." *** Ollie strolled through the event grounds, marveling at the exquisite designs adorning the bodies of New York's elite. She held grand aspirations that extended beyond her current role as a lingerie designer. Ollie dreamt of dressing celebrities across America, making her mark in the world of fashion.