Evelyn tilts her head, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. “Chocolate milk. Now that’s an interesting choice.”
Oliver doesn’t bother looking her way. His attention stays locked on me. “It’s a good source of protein. Can’t ever have too much of it.”
I shove the bottle back into the bag before the older woman decides to pry any further. The last thing I need is her razor-sharp intuition dissecting the tension currently thickening the air.
It’s almost a relief when the door opens, and her nephew, Lucas, steps inside. His easy grin falters when he spots Oliver, but he recovers quickly, refocusing on me.
“Hey, Rina. I just wanted to say I had a really great time the other night. Maybe we could go out again?”
Before I can respond, Oliver straightens. His smirk vanishes, replaced with something harder.
“Actually, she’s already seeing someone.” His voice is still velvety-smooth, but now it’s laced with a dangerous undertone. “I’m surprised she didn’t mention it.”
Evelyn’s brows lift, and the corner of her mouth twitches like she’s trying not to laugh. The amusement in her eyes is unmistakable, and my stomach drops.
If she puts the pieces together, I’ll be walking out with a box of my personal items by the end of the day.
“Um… yeah.” Heat crawls up my neck. “It’s kind of new,” I hedge, not wanting to give too much away. “We only recently decided to be exclusive.”
Oliver leans back, arm draping across the couch like he’s settling in for the long haul. “Sorry, Luke. This girl’s already taken.” There’s a lazy smugness to his tone. “But don’t worry, there are plenty of women in Chicago. I’m sure you’ll find one.”
Lucas’s jaw tightens, a muscle ticking in his cheek. “It’s Lucas,” he mutters, shooting his aunt a tight smile. “Are you ready for that meeting with Hugh?”
Evelyn rises, smoothing her skirt with composed grace. “Yes. I just need to stop by my office first.” Her gaze touches on mine again. “We’ll pick this up later.”
I nod as the door closes behind them and silence falls over us.
It’s one that’s thick and charged.
The thin thread of composure I’ve been clinging to snaps, and I whirl toward Oliver, slapping my palm against him. The solid muscle beneath my hand only fuels the turmoil spiraling through me. “Are you insane?” I hiss. “Do you have any idea what you just did?”
His grin never falters. Not even a fraction. “Yeah. I made damn sure Luke understands you’re not available.”
I stare at him as anger bubbles up inside me like a geyser. “You put me on the spot in front of my boss! That was reckless. The last thing I need is for her to grill me about our relationship. I can’t afford to lose my job.” My voice wavers at the end before I tack on, “Especially now.”
He leans in until the minty freshness of his breath drifts over my cheek. “The only reckless thing was you pretending I’m not the only man you want. Or that you’re not already mine.”
My heart trips over itself. “You don’t get to decide that for me.”
His grin sharpens, edged with heat and unmistakable possession.
A shiver slides through me before I can stop it. God, I hate that he can affect me so easily with just a look.
“Then why didn’t you correct me?” he asks. “Why didn’t you tell them I was lying?”
I blink as the answer crashes through my head.
Because I didn’t want Lucas to ask me out again.
And I couldn’t stand the way Oliver looked as if he was seconds away from tearing him apart.
And maybe because, deep down, he’s right.
But those are truths I’m barely able to admit to myself let alone him.
Instead of responding, I shove at his chest. “Don’t push me, Van Doren.”
His fingers trail down my arm until his thumb finds the frantic beat of my pulse at my wrist. He brushes it once before lowering his other hand to my abdomen. The touch is steady and strangely grounding.
