Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Olivia
Tonight is supposed to be quiet. And by quiet, I mean blissfully, perfectly boring.
No drama, no questions I don’t want to answer, no feelings. Just me, the bathtub full of bubbles, and the faint hope that lavender-scented water can scrub the stress out of my life.
Spoiler alert: It can’t. But I’m trying.
The bathroom mirror is fogged, the speaker on the counter is humming through some mellow playlist, and for once, I almost feel like a person again.
A person who isn’t sleeping in someone else’s guest room.
A person who isn’t under a microscope every time she steps outside—a person who doesn’t have…
complicated history with three men in this town.
I sink deeper into the water and close my eyes. Maybe if I stay like this long enough, I’ll dissolve into the bubbles and disappear.
Then there’s a knock.
Not a polite ‘hey, you busy?’ Tap, but a full-on, open the door before I break it, knock. So loud I can hear it up here.
I freeze.
Then it comes again, louder this time, rattling through the walls.
Great. Either this house is on fire too, or someone’s determined to ruin my vibe.
I’m guessing Karl and Leo aren’t back from work yet, which is why no one is answering. In a way, that’s good. Fewer people to avoid, but on the other hand, that might mean I have to move.
Another knock. No, scratch that… pounding.
“Okay!” I yell, trying to sound like a woman who’s not naked in a tub and mildly panicking. “Coming!”
I grab a towel and wrap it around myself in a rush, nearly slipping on the tile because, of course, I do. Water drips down my legs, my hair’s plastered to my back, and I’m pretty sure I look like a drowned rat auditioning for a shampoo commercial. Whatever.
The pounding doesn’t stop.
“Alright, alright!” My voice cracks halfway through, which is fantastic for my confidence.
I dart through the living room, leaving little wet footprints behind like some desperate trail for CSI to follow if this ends in murder.
I yank the door open…
And my heart basically forgets how to beat.
Jesse.
Standing there in the freezing dark, breath puffing white in the December air, looking…
wild. Hair damp from the snow, jaw set like he’s one wrong word away from doing something stupid.
His eyes land on me, and for one insane second, I swear the temperature spikes even though I’m in a towel and it’s approximately negative a million degrees outside.
“What the hell, Jesse?” It comes out halfway between shock and… something else I’m not ready to name. “What are you doing here?”
His gaze drags over me, bare shoulders, dripping hair, all of it, and if I weren’t already pink from the bath, I’d be blushing hard enough to light up the whole street.
“Where’s Karl?” he asks, like this is an interrogation and not, oh, you know, a completely insane surprise visit to my temporary home.
“Hi, Jesse,” I deadpan, because apparently sarcasm is my only survival mechanism. “I’m great, thanks for asking. And sure, come by unannounced at…” I glance toward the clock, “nine thirty at night. Totally normal behavior.”
His jaw clenches, and before I can even blink, he pushes past me. Into the living room.
“Excuse me?” I slam the door shut and spin around, clutching my towel for dear life. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Making sure Karl’s not here.” He’s already scanning the place as if Karl might pop out from behind the couch holding a champagne bottle and a pair of boxers.
I laugh, but it’s a sound that belongs in a psych ward. “Seriously? You show up like the ghost of Christmas rage, and now you’re… what? Playing detective? You work with him. Don’t you know the schedule? He’s at the fire station, so whatever this is, take it there.”
He whips around to face me, and wow, the look in his eyes. It’s nuclear. “Don’t act like you don’t know what people are saying.”
I blink at him. “What people?”
“Everyone,” he bites out. “Half the damn town, probably. That you’re with him. That you’re…” He stops, but the way his mouth hardens says it all.
“Sleeping with him?” I finish for him, because apparently, I have a death wish tonight.
His nostrils flare. “Are you?”
Oh, wow. Wow. The audacity of this man, storming into my evening of self-care and turning it into a Maury episode.
“You saw us on the night we had a date,” I say, slow and sharp. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
“Not my business?” He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. Just frustration boiling over. “Maybe not, but I can have feelings about it.”
Oh, we’re doing that. Fantastic.
“We had one night, and both agreed it couldn’t happen again.”
I just wish my body would get the message out of bounds. But around this man, I get weak at the knees, which is why I prefer to keep my distance.
“You think I don’t…” He cuts himself off. The words are knives he can’t afford to throw.
“Well?” I snap. “You think you don’t what? Care? Want me? Because newsflash, Jesse, you don’t get to barge in here, play jealous boyfriend, when we can’t keep this up.”
His fists clench at his sides, and for a second, he… stares at me. Like he’s trying to memorize my face, or maybe burn it into the back of his eyelids so he can hate himself later.
“You think I don’t want you?” The words come out harsh, broken. “You think I ever stopped?”
And just like that, the room goes still.
Except for the pounding in my chest, which is basically trying to beat its way out.
For a second, I forget how to breathe. Did he just…? No. No, absolutely not. He doesn’t get to say that and think it fixes anything.
“Wow,” I say, and it comes out shaky, which is infuriating. “You’re really going to stand there and pull the I always wanted you card now? When you know we can’t do anything? The same issues are still there…”
His jaw tightens, that muscle ticking like a time bomb. “Don’t twist this, Liv. We both agreed.”
“I know, but…”
“Come on, Liv. This is impossible for me. You think I didn’t want to call you every damn day? To know you’re dating Karl. And that he isn’t even treating you right?”
I swallow hard. “Jesse…”
“I’m an idiot,” he continues. “Because the whole time I was busy trying to do the right thing, all I wanted was you.”
My chest feels like it's caving in. “You can’t just say that now, Jesse. You don’t get to show up at my door and—”
“And what?” he challenges, stepping closer, close enough that I can see the storm in his eyes, feel the heat coming off him in waves. “And tell you the truth? Because that’s all I’ve got left, Liv. I wanted you then. I want you now. It’s never stopped.”
Something in me snaps. Maybe it’s anger, maybe it’s longing, maybe it’s the fact that every inch of me has been aching for these words even as I swore I didn’t need them.
“You’re impossible,” I whisper, because the alternative is saying I want you too, and I’m not sure I’ll survive that.
He exhales like he’s been holding his breath for months. “And you drive me out of my damn mind.”
And then…
I don’t know who moves first. Maybe it’s him. Perhaps it’s me. Maybe it’s both of us at the same time because suddenly his mouth is on mine, and every furious word we’ve thrown at each other is burning up between us.
The kiss is rough, desperate. We’re both trying to make up for all the time lost and all the things we never said. My towel slips a little, and I don’t even care because his hands are on my face, in my hair, holding me close.
When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing like we ran a marathon, foreheads pressed together, and I can taste regret and want on my lips like they’re the same damn thing.
“This changes nothing,” I whisper, even though it changes everything.
“Bullshit,” he murmurs, and then he kisses me again.
His mouth claims mine again, harder this time, like he’s daring me to take it back, daring me to tell him to stop. My back hits the wall, cold against my damp skin, and the towel loosens completely. It falls in a whisper of fabric at my feet.
For a heartbeat, I freeze, completely exposed. But Jesse’s eyes… the way he looks at me. Not just hunger, though that’s there, burning fast as wildfire, but something more profound, that makes me forget every reason I swore this was off limits.
“Livvy…” He’s trying to hold himself back.
His hands hover at my sides, not quite touching, giving me the choice.
And that undoing is worse than his kiss. Because it’s not just lust. He wants me to decide. He’s giving me the out I begged for all this time.
But instead of running, I pull him closer. His chest slams into mine, solid and warm, and the sound that rumbles out of him is pure relief.
“Stop overthinking,” I whisper, fingers tangling in his shirt. “Just… don’t stop.”
That’s all it takes. His restraint snaps, and his hands are on me. Strong, certain, sliding over wet skin, mapping every inch like I belong to him already. His mouth trails down my jaw, my throat, my shoulder, and every place he touches feels branded.
I gasp when his strong arms pin me to the wall. We’re both shaking, both burning, and I know this is reckless, dangerous, maybe even doomed…
But right now? It feels inevitable.
Jesse’s mouth is wild on me, biting, sucking, claiming, leaving marks across my chest that will be there tomorrow, and the thought only makes me wetter. His hand is between my legs now, fingers stroking me through slick folds, and when he pushes one inside, I cry out, nails dragging down his back.
“Fuck, Livvy…” His voice is wrecked, his lips brushing my ear as he works me with slow, deliberate thrusts. “So tight. So perfect. I’ve thought about having you like this, screaming on my fingers, every damn night.”
His words make me shiver. No, not shiver, shake.
My thighs tremble around his hand, hips grinding to meet every curl of his fingers. I’m already undone, already moaning like I’ve lost all sense of pride, and the way he watches me, hungry, desperate, only drives me higher.
I can’t help it. My hand is already at his belt, yanking until the leather slips free. I shove my hand inside, and when I wrap my fingers around him, he groans into my neck like I’ve just stolen his last breath.
“Damn, Livvy…”
His hips jerk into my palm, hard, needy. I stroke him, slow at first, then faster, matching the rhythm of his hand inside me. We’re both panting, messy and frantic, the air consumed with the sound of slick skin and broken gasps.
“Say it,” he growls against my mouth. “Say you want me to fuck you.”
“I want you,” I gasp, stroking him harder, biting his shoulder. “I want you to fuck me, Jesse.”
His forehead drops against mine as he thrusts two fingers deeper, rougher, his thumb circling my clit until I’m clinging to him, thighs quivering.
I grind against his hand, naked, desperate, moaning his name with every stroke. He presses his body harder into mine, pinning me to the wall, his cock heavy and hard in my palm as I pump him faster.
It’s filthy. It’s raw. And it feels so fucking good.
I’m right on the edge, his fingers curling, his thumb relentless, my whole body straining for release, when…
The front door slams open.
Oh fuck.