Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
A week had passed, and Olivia couldn’t catch her breath.
Why had she waited until the hotel to see him again?
She should have been the adult and gone over to Austin and Sierra’s and asked for Derek’s number.
It would have been better for everyone if she’d been able to tell Derek what she needed to without being in a place with so many shared memories between them.
Now, she’d either have to make a public scene in the hotel bar or risk going up to the room that he no doubt had already arranged.
It would likely be a different room than all the others before, but it would still feel like theirs.
It didn’t matter if the bed had been updated, if the view from the window was different, or if they’d found themselves on each floor over the years.
It would still be their room. And once the door closed behind her, she’d have to tell him who she was so he’d know the truth.
A small part of her hoped that he’d understand.
That he’d know that she hadn’t kept it from him for years, only the past month as she pieced herself together once she figured out who he was.
A small part of her held the dreams where he would say he understood and still kiss her.
Still want her. That he’d forgive her for what had happened all those years ago and they would be able to be again.
But that piece was a liar. She knew that.
Because no matter how nice the hotel was, no matter the leather seats and ornate molding, she didn’t fit here.
Neither did he. They had been playing a part all these years, a role that had been a lie—even if she hadn’t understood it at the time.
Because their rules had meant nothing in the end.
She’d still ended up falling, still ended up making connections.
And she had no idea what to do about it.
Or rather, she knew what she should do even if it would hurt her more than she thought possible.
She didn’t want to lose him.
Yet, she’d never really had him.
She’d made the choice to show up at the hotel, made a decision to dress like she normally did for their encounters, so she could have some form of armor for what she needed to tell him.
And yet, some part of her knew that if Derek kissed her first, she might go weak and let him love her one last time before she lost it all.
He deserved far more than that, but she knew tonight would be their last time.
She was going to go to hell paved with those good intentions, and once again, she had to fight for breath.
She wore a deep purple dress that hugged her torso, tucked in around her waist and flared out at her thighs. It had layers and swaths to hug her curves while being flowy at the same time. She loved this dress but knew she might not wear it again if Derek were to push her out of his life forever.
Once she told him who she was now that she truly knew, there would be no happily ever after for her. There would be no talking it over and trying to remember the good times.
There would be no more D and O.
She held back a smile, thinking of the little jokes they’d made at the fact that he was D and she was O. It might have been immature, but they’d both laughed, both smiled, then had both fallen back into bed together.
They’d done that often.
“Is this seat taken?”
She closed her eyes at the sound of his deep voice. She didn’t turn, wasn’t sure she could face him, but then she reminded herself that tonight wasn’t about her. It was about Derek and what she needed to tell him.
So she sucked in a deep breath, ignored the tightening in her belly, and turned on her stool to face him.
She lifted her chin, gesturing for him to sit down.
She wasn’t sure she could formulate the words just then.
She would, though. The martini near her elbow remained untouched, and as he took the seat next to her, she licked her lips.
His gaze went to the action, and she could have cursed herself for doing that. She couldn’t lead him on, but neither could she stop her physical responses when it came to being in Derek’s presence.
“That’s a new dress. I like it.”
He must have looked at her as he walked up to the bar because his eyes were only on hers now.
She loved the way his eyes locked on hers, the way she could tell so much about him just from the way he looked at her.
She knew those eyes, knew them as the man he was, and now that she focused, she could see the fragments of memories from when he was the boy who had gotten annoyed when she followed him around because she’d fallen in love with her best friend’s older brother.
Of course, she hadn’t been old enough to actually love him beyond a childhood crush.
No, those feelings came later.
She swallowed hard. She couldn’t love him. Not now, not later. She didn’t know him, not enough for those feelings to make sense. At least that’s what she kept reminding herself.
“Olivia. Are you okay?”
She pulled herself out of her thoughts and tried to make it look as if she weren’t going in a thousand different directions inside herself.
“It’s not a new dress.”
He frowned. “Oh. I guess I don’t know all of your dresses. I’ve seen a few.” He paused. “Touched a few, but I guess I don’t know them all.”
She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath through her nose. “Sorry. I’m being weird.”
“No, you aren’t. I called you Olivia. I didn’t even bother with O or trying to do what we normally do and act as if we don’t know each other.
It’s different. And it should be. This isn’t like the last time or any of the other times before that.
And maybe that’s okay. Hell, after all this time, it feels new because it’s already different.
And, yeah, I don’t know every dress you’ve ever owned, and you don’t know everything about me either, but we can see if we want to try. ”
Olivia looked down and played with the rim of her martini glass, not sure what she was going to say because her heart was in her throat at that moment.
He wanted more? Or at least wanted to see if they had more?
Though he’d alluded to something like that before when he was in her home, she hadn’t really put any weight to it.
And since she felt as if she were about to black out whenever he was near her, she didn’t really remember anything he’d said.
“We should talk,” she said softly, trying to make herself sound as if she weren’t panicking inside. From the way he looked at her, she wasn’t sure she’d succeeded.
He tilted his head, studied her, then reached out to brush her hair back from her shoulders.
She hadn’t bothered with the pins today since it would have been a temptation for her that she had wanted to try to resist. She’d thought about it once she looked in the mirror and imagined his hands in her hair like he’d done so many times over the years.
So she’d left it down, leaving the temptation behind.
Only when he moved her hair, his fingertips brushed the skin of her shoulder over the straps of her dress, and she sucked in a breath.
His eyes darkened, and she knew he felt it, too—that need, that yearning.
And she hated herself just a little bit for it because she was going to change everything.
She had to.
“We should. Do you want to talk down here? Or up in the room?”
Anywhere but the room.
She didn’t say that, of course, since the only answer was the room, but it didn’t make her words come out any easier.
“I don’t really want to talk down here,” she answered finally and slid off the stool.
“Do you want to finish your drink?” he asked, then raised a brow. “Or maybe start it?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think I can drink anything right now, and I only got it so I wasn’t sitting at the bar without holding something. You know?”
“I do. Though I wish I’d gotten here earlier so you weren’t here alone in that case.”
She shrugged and picked up her bag. “I’m always early to everything. I can’t help it.”
“Good to know. See? We’re already learning new things.”
Oh, if he only knew.
He took her hand, and she did her best not to pull away, not because she didn’t want his touch, but because she wanted it too much.
And just like the previous times he’d led her to the elevator, she wondered what people thought as they looked at the two of them.
Did they think they were lovers? A couple? Or were they having an illicit affair?
As none of those were the truth, she couldn’t help but wonder what those who had noticed them over time would think when Olivia and Derek didn’t show up again.
Would they worry?
Would they think it was over?
Or would their absence go unnoticed, a bare blip of a memory that didn’t mean anything to the casual observer?
She didn’t want to be a memory long faded, but as she only had the memories of what had once been swirling in her mind, she wasn’t sure she could be anything else and remain sane.
“Why do you look so scared?” Derek asked as he pressed the button for the seventh floor on the elevator.
Lucky number seven? Or to the seventh layer of hell in Dante’s Inferno?
“I’m fine.”
“You think I don’t know you, but I do know enough to know that’s a lie. Let’s get into the room so you can finally tell me what’s got you so on edge. Hmm?”
She didn’t answer, but as they walked to the room once they left the elevator, her silence was answer enough. He pressed his keycard to the sensor and opened the door, gesturing for her to go in first. She hated that her chest hurt, that her lungs felt as if they were too large for her ribcage.
She had to do this quickly, like ripping off a Band-Aid, and then she’d be fine.
And if she kept telling herself that, maybe she’d actually believe it.