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“Excuse me?”

“You used to call me Oli.” He looks me in the eye. “Since that night, you’ve called me Oliver. Why?”

I hesitate, shrugging a shoulder. “It’s your name, isn’t it?”

“I miss it,” he says.

I pause, taken by the vulnerability in his stare. “I’m sorry,” I mutter, unsure what else to say.

I drop my eyes to my checklist again.

Boston, Massachusetts.

Bar. Gift shop. No spa, so that’s —

Oliver stretches an open hand toward mine. The table is so small; he doesn’t have to travel very far before I feel his warm touch on the back of my hand.

My breath hitches as he traces the barely visible veins toward my wrist, firing a shiver to my shoulder blades.

“Thank you,” he says. “For this.”

I swallow hard. “Just doing my job,” I whisper.

His touch continues to drift up my forearm and something twinges deep inside me. A long forgotten urge to?—

I pull my hand back. “Oliver…”

He doesn’t move. He keeps his hand extended, perhaps hoping I’ll give it back, but I don’t.

I won’t.

I can’t.

“I, uh…” I drop my hands into my lap. I clear my throat. I sit up taller, suddenly feeling very nervous in our private car. “Coffee.”

“Coffee?”

“Yeah, we need coffee,” I say as I slide off the bench to stand in the cramped space. “I’ll go grab us some coffee.”

“We already have coffee.”

“Food, then?” I suggest with a quick step toward the door. “A sandwich, or…”

Oliver stands. “Paige.”

“A doughnut, maybe?”

I reach for the door, but he easily catches me first. One hand latches onto my hip, while the other rises to my cheek. I shift backward, accidentally pinning myself between him and the door. I hold my breath, too nervous to share it with him as he leans in closer.

Oliver presses his body against mine. He touches my face, fingers gently tracing a line to my chin. He licks his lips, his deep blue gaze lingering on mine. I flinch involuntarily and he tightens his grip on my hip; a firm warning for me to stand still.

Trapped yet entranced, my body forces me to breathe.

A single inhale draws us closer.

His nose touches my cheekbone.

His hand slides down my neck.