Olive's POV

Chapter Five: Olive's POV

"Maybe I just like the idea of watching Cole Maddox squirm."

"That's not a real answer."

"It's the only one you're getting."

"Then I'm not interested."

"Are you sure about that?" His hand came up—slowly, like he was giving me time to move, to protest, to tell him to stop—and his fingers brushed my jaw.

And I stopped breathing.

The touch was light. Barely there. But it sent electricity racing down my spine, pooling low in my stomach in a way that made me want to clench my thighs together.

"Because from where I'm standing," he murmured, thumb tracing the line of my jaw with excruciating slowness, "you don't look uninterested."

"I—" The words died in my throat.

"Your pupils are dilated." His voice dropped even lower. "Your breathing's shallow. And if I had to guess..." His thumb moved to my pulse point, pressing gently. "Your heart's racing."

Fuck him for being right.

Fuck my body for betraying me.

Fuck everything about this moment.

"That doesn't mean anything," I managed, but my voice came out breathy and weak.

"Doesn't it?" His thumb traced my bottom lip now, and I had to bite back a sound that would've been absolutely mortifying. "We could be good together, Olive. Professionally speaking. Put on a show that makes everyone believe it. Make Cole regret everything."

"And what happens when it's over?" I whispered. "When we're done playing pretend and you've gotten whatever it is you really want?"

"Then we end it. Amicably. You get your revenge. I get what I need. Everyone wins."

"Except Cole."

"Especially Cole."

His thumb pressed against my lip again, just slightly, and my lips parted on instinct.

His eyes darkened.

The air between us changed. Thickened. Heat crawling up my neck and pooling in places I was trying very hard not to think about.

"How long?" I asked, because I needed to say something before I did something stupid like close the distance between us.

"How long what?"

"This fake relationship. If I agreed—which I'm not saying I am—how long would it last?"

He considered, and I hated that I was watching his mouth while he thought. "Two months. Long enough to make an impact. Then we part ways. Clean break."

"Two months of lying to everyone."

"Two months of taking back control." His hand moved to cup my face fully now, and I should've pulled away but I didn't. "Think about it. Two months where you decide how this story goes. Not Cole. Not your family. You."

God, why did he have to make it sound so tempting?

"What would we have to do?" My voice was barely audible now. "During these two months?"

"Public appearances. Games. Dinners. Charity events." He paused, and something heated flashed in his eyes. "Whatever couples do."

"Fake couples."

"Does it really matter?" His thumb traced my cheekbone now, and I was losing the battle with myself not to lean into it. "If it looks real, if it feels real, if everyone believes it's real—what's the difference?"

"The difference is that it's not real."

"Is that what you want? Reality?" He leaned in, close enough that I could feel his breath on my lips. "Because reality is Cole cheating on you for maybe the entire of your relationship. Reality is him calling you incapable. Reality is you standing in the rain at his practices while he fucked other women. Is that the reality you want to go back to?"

Each word hit like a slap.

Because he was right. Reality had been nothing but pain and lies and standing in the rain hoping someone would notice me.

"We'd have to sell it," he continued, voice dropping to something that sounded almost like a promise. "Make people believe it's real. That means touching. Holding hands." His thumb traced my jaw again. "Kissing."

My knees went weak.

"Kissing."

"If the situation calls for it." His eyes were locked on my mouth now. "Can't have people thinking we're just friends."

"This is insane."

"Maybe." His hand slid into my hair, fingers tangling gently, and I forgot how to breathe. "But you haven't said no."

Because I couldn't.

God help me, I couldn't say no.

I wanted this. Wanted to feel wanted. Wanted to show Cole that I could move on, that I was worth more than he'd ever appreciated. Wanted to be seen as something other than the girl who got cheated on.

Even if it was fake.

Even if it was a lie.

Even if it would probably blow up in my face.

His thumb pressed against my bottom lip again, and this time I couldn't stop the small sound that escaped.

I saw his eyes flashed.

"So what do you say, Olive?" His voice was rough now, strained. "Are you going to let Cole Maddox win? Or are you going to show him exactly what he threw away?"

I stared into those blue eyes.

Felt his heat. His presence. The way he was looking at me like I was the only person who mattered in this moment.

For one wild, reckless second, I almost said yes.

Almost let myself fall into this trap of his making.

But then reality crashed back in.

This man knew everything about me. Had orchestrated this meeting. Was offering me something that sounded too good to be true.

Because it was too good to be true.

Men didn't do things out of kindness. Cole had taught me that lesson thoroughly. They wanted something. Always. There was always an angle.

And I wasn't going to be used again.

Not by Cole.

And definitely not by Zane Mercer.

I ducked under his arm, putting space between us so fast I almost tripped over my own feet.

My chest was heaving. My body was screaming at me to go back, to let him touch me again, to say yes to whatever he was offering.

But I didn't.

"No."

He turned slowly. Eyes locked on mine. Expression unreadable.

"No?"

"I'm not interested." My voice shook but I forced the words out anyway. "I don't need your help. I don't need revenge. And I definitely don't need some stranger playing savior because he has his own agenda he won't even explain."

"Olive—"

"Find someone else to play chess with." I grabbed the door handle, yanking it open. "I'm done being a piece on someone else's board."

Sheila was right there when I stepped out, eyes wide with surprise.

"Oh! Are you—did you finish already?"

"I quit," I said.

And I walked out.

Didn't look back. Couldn't look back. Because if I did, I'd see those blue eyes and that body and that dangerous smile.

And I'd change my mind.

My heart was pounding. My hands were shaking. My whole body felt like it was on fire.

I made it to the elevator before I had to lean against the wall.

"Fuck," I whispered to the empty hallway.

Because I'd just turned down Zane Mercer.

The hottest man I'd ever seen in my life.

Who'd offered me exactly what some dark, vengeful part of me wanted.

And I'd walked away.

The elevator dinged. I stepped inside, jabbing the button for the lobby.

My phone buzzed.

An unknown number.

I stared at it for three long seconds before opening the message.

‘Three days, Olive. That's how long my offer stands. After that, you're on your own. – Z’

I read it twice.

Then blocked the number.

Shoved my phone back in my pocket.

And tried to ignore the ache between my thighs that told me I'd just made either the smartest or stupidest decision of my life.

Time would tell which one.