Chapter 14

Meghan's POV

My daze becomes all-consuming.

The noise of the apartment fades farther and farther into the background until it sounds muffled, distant, like I’m underwater while everyone else exists somewhere above the surface.

I keep replaying last night over and over.

Julien stepping closer.

The look in his eyes.

What could’ve happened if Ollie hadn’t stepped in.

If he hadn’t noticed.

If he hadn’t cared enough to come over at all.

My stomach twists violently.

And before I can stop it, my thoughts start spiraling somewhere darker.

A memory claws its way forward—one I shoved so far down I thought it would stay buried forever. Raised voices. Fear curling tight in my chest. Hands grabbing too hard. The feeling of having nowhere to go.

My breathing starts to thin.

Tighter.

Sharper.

I stare harder into my coffee, blinking rapidly as emotion crawls up my throat.

Don’t.

Not here.

Not now.

Then suddenly—

Warmth.

I blink and look up.

Ollie lowers himself onto the couch next to me with a plate stacked with eggs and bacon balanced in one hand and coffee in the other.

Somehow he still wanted to come over here instead of staying in the kitchen with everyone else.

He just sat down.

No questions. No pushing.

Like he somehow sensed exactly where my mind had started drifting and came over before I could drown in it.

My chest tightens painfully.

"How does he keep doing that?"

He settles back against the couch beside me, close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating off him through the oversized hoodie I’m wearing.

And almost instantly-

My body relaxes.

Actually relaxes.

The panic loosens its grip on my chest like his presence alone is enough to pull me back to earth.

Which would be less concerning if my brain didn’t immediately betray me afterward.

Because now instead of spiraling, all I can think about is him.

His dark brown eyes.

The messy dark hair falling over his forehead.

The bridge of freckles stretched across his nose that somehow softens how intimidatingly attractive he is.

The sharp line of his jaw.

The way his hoodie pulls across his shoulders when he moves.

I am fully staring now.

Like an idiot.

And apparently obvious enough to get caught.

“Megs.”

I blink hard and look up.

Ollie’s watching me now, one eyebrow slightly raised, amusement flickering behind his eyes.

Heat floods my face instantly.

Before I can embarrass myself further, movement near the apartment door catches my attention.

The rest of them are gathering their things.

"Oh."

They’re leaving.

The realization hits me harder than it should.

A strange sadness immediately settles low in my chest and I hate how much I don’t want him to go.

Which is insane.

Actually insane.

I’ve known this man for less than twenty-four hours.

Before I can overthink it too much, I stand abruptly and walk straight toward him, practically throwing myself into his chest before my brain catches up with my body.

His arms wrap around me instantly.

Immediate.

Natural.

Safe.

My face presses against his hoodie as my thoughts race so fast I can barely breathe around them.

All I manage is a muffled, “Thank you.”

Quiet enough that only he can hear it.

His arms tighten around me slightly.

And for one terrifying second, my brain whispers something dangerous.

"I could do this forever."

Absolutely not.

I pull back quickly before my own thoughts ruin my life and turn toward the others with the flattest expression I can manage.

“You three,” I say, pointing directly at Luca and Adrian, “are not allowed to corrupt my roommates while I’m emotionally vulnerable.”

Luca gasps dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. “Me? Corrupt?”

“You literally stole our bacon,” I deadpan.

“That is unrelated.”

A laugh leaves Ollie before he can stop it.

Real.

Warm.

Deep enough that my stomach immediately flips.

The sound catches me so off guard that before I can stop it, my lips crack into a smile.

A real one.

Small, but genuine.

And the second Ollie notices it, something soft shifts in his expression like seeing me smile matters far more to him than it should.

Anya leads them out the door shouting something after them that I thankfully don’t catch.

Honestly, I hope they don’t either.

The second the apartment door shuts behind them, the space feels quieter.

Emptier.

And I absolutely refuse to unpack why that bothers me.

“Nope,” I mutter to myself, immediately turning toward my room before my brain can spiral any further. “Not doing this today.”

I make it exactly three steps down the hallway.

Before two arms hook around my waist from behind and drag me backward.

“ABSOLUTELY not,” Kylah yells dramatically.

I let out a startled noise as she hauls me back toward the living room against my will while I try and fail to pry her off me.

“Kylah!”

“You are not escaping this conversation.” she yells.

“Yes, I am!”

“No, you’re not.” all three of them chime back.

By the time she releases me, Eliana and Anya are already seated on the couch waiting for me like some kind of terrifying council.

Oh no.

Absolutely not.

Anya pats the spot directly across from them. “Sit.”

I stare at the three of them. “You guys are being weird.”

“Weird?” Eliana repeats incredulously. “MEGHAN. A giant mysterious man slept in your bed after practically growling at another man in a bar over you.”

“He did not growl.”

Kylah gasps. “Defending him already is insane work.”

Heat floods my face instantly. “I am not defending him!”

“Mhm,” Anya hums suspiciously. “And the way you launched yourself into his chest before he left meant absolutely nothing?”

I open my mouth.

Close it.

Open it again.

Because unfortunately, I have absolutely nothing to say to that.

Kylah narrows her eyes dramatically. “You like him.”

“I do not.”

“You smiled at him.”

“I smile at people!”

“You literally hate people,” Eliana says flatly.

“That is—”

“Actually true,” Anya cuts in.

Traitors.

All of them.

I cross my arms defensively, trying to ignore the heat crawling up my neck. “I’ve known him for less than a day.”

“And yet,” Kylah says slowly, leaning forward like she’s uncovering state secrets, “you looked at that man like he personally hung the moon.”

“I did not!”

The silence that follows is deafening.

Because judging by their faces...

I absolutely did.