14. Brett #2
I arched a brow. “Oh, we’re pretending? That’s cute.”
She scowled. “Do you want me to punch you? Because I will.”
My lips twitched. “I missed that temper.”
She groaned and shoved past me, but I caught her wrist, stopping her.
“Olivia.”
She swallowed, avoiding my gaze.
Don’t look at me, Olivia. Don’t?—
Too late.
Her eyes met mine, and just like that, the tension was back, thick and heavy.
“Are you alright?” My voice came out soft.
She hesitated. Then, “Yes.”
I smirked. “Liar.”
She yanked her hand free and stormed down the hall, her frustration rolling off her in waves. I let her go. Let her put distance between us because if I didn’t, I wasn’t sure what I’d do next.
The fire was going out, so I put a few more items on it, but my pile was dwindling.
As much as I hoped we’d get rescued soon, I also wanted to stay there alone with Olivia forever.
Outside, the snow piled high against the windows, trapping us in this secluded little pocket of the world.
Who knew when we would get out of there?
I leaned against the kitchen counter, turning a bottle of bourbon in my hands. I wasn’t sure this was a good idea. Scratch that—I knew it wasn’t. But Olivia was watching me, waiting, and damn if I could ever say no to her.
“You sure about this?” I asked, my lips quirking in that cocky way that always got under her skin. “You might find out things you wish you didn’t.”
She snorted, grabbing two glasses. “Please. I already know you were a badass. Nothing surprises me anymore.”
“Famous last words,” I said, pouring the amber liquid.
She curled into the couch, legs tucked under her, smirking like she had me exactly where she wanted me. “We’re playing ‘Never Have I Ever.’ Simple rules: If you’ve done it, you drink.”
I settled across from her, glass in hand. If she wanted to play games, I would play. “Alright, Olivia. Hit me.”
She swirled her drink, thinking. “Never have I ever skipped school or work for no reason.”
I lifted my glass without hesitation. “Guilty.”
She grinned. “Bad Boy Brett strikes again.”
“You never ditched?” I raised a brow. “Not even once?”
“Some of us actually had ambition.”
I smirked. “How’s that working out for you?”
She ignored me, tapping her glass. “Your turn.”
I thought for a second. “Never have I ever eaten an entire pizza by myself.”
We both drank, laughing.
“College was a dark time,” she admitted.
“Same,” I said. “Though mine involved a hangover and poor life choices.”
She rolled her eyes. “Shocking. Okay—Never have I ever danced in the rain.”
We both sipped, and the memory hit me like a freight train: Olivia, soaked and spinning in the downpour, her laughter caught somewhere in my throat. My hands on her waist, the way her wet hair clung to her cheeks, the moment just before I had kissed her?—
She cleared her throat. “Next.”
I forced a smirk. “Never have I ever sent a text to the wrong person.”
We both drank, groaning.
“Mine was meant for Fiona but went to my boss,” she said. “It was supposed to say, ‘I swear to God, if I have to sit through another meeting with her, I’m quitting.’”
He winced. “Ouch.”
“Yeah. Yours?”
I took another sip. “A dirty text meant for an ex went to my mom.”
She gasped, choking on her drink. “No. No way.”
He nodded. “Way.”
She was giggling now, full, head-thrown-back laughter.
“Oh my God, what did she say?”
My face heated. “She responded, ‘I don’t think I was the intended recipient, but I hope she was worth it.’”
Olivia howled. “Your poor mother.”
“Nevermind. Poor me!”
She wiped her eyes, still grinning. “Okay. Never have I ever had a crush on a teacher.”
We both drank.
“Mr. Lawson,” she admitted. “Freshman year. English lit. The man had the voice of a tortured poet.”
“Mrs. Carmichael,” I said without shame. “Sophomore year. She had legs for days.”
She snorted, then rolled her eyes. “Of course.”
“What?” I leaned in. “You think I was sitting through calculus for the math?”
She rolled her eyes again. “Moving on. Never have I ever flirted with a stranger.”
I drank. She didn’t.
Her brow arched. “Who?”
I swirled my drink. “She’s still a stranger.”
Something flickered in her expression. “When?”
“A long time ago.”
She shifted, suddenly not quite as comfortable. I could feel it, the energy between us tilting.
“Never have I ever imagined being with someone else while in a relationship.”
We both drank.
She studied him. “Who did you think about?”
My gaze locked onto hers, steady and unflinching. “You.”
She froze.
I didn’t blink or back down. “Every single time.”
Her breath faltered, and I saw her fingers tightening around her glass. I should’ve stopped the game right there. I knew it. But this was Olivia, and she made me reckless.
“Never have I ever ignored a text or call on purpose,” she blurted out, and just like that, the moment shattered.
We both drank.
I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. “I did it to you.”
I could practically see her stomach twist. “When?”
“After we—” I exhaled. “I couldn’t deal with it.”
The weight of old wounds pressed between us. She swallowed hard. “Let’s do one more.”
I hesitated. “I think that’s enough, Olivia.”
“Never have I ever lied about being single.”
She didn’t drink. I did.
The room went silent.
Her voice was low, lethal. “When?”
My jaw tightened. “When I was with you.”
Everything about her went still. “You were in a relationship when we were together?”
“It was ending.”
“Not the same thing.”
I clenched my jaw and wondered how I got myself into these jams. “I didn’t lie to hurt you.”
She shot to her feet, fury sparking in her eyes. “But you did! You let me believe you were available.” She shook her head, fists curling. “I was just another one of your goddamn reckless choices.”
“It wasn’t like that at all, Olivia,” I said, standing too, voice tight.
“Then what was it?”
“I was a mess back then. I didn’t know what I wanted?—”
“You wanted her and me at the same time?” Her eyes widened. “Were you ever with us both on the same night?”
“Never.” His eyes were raw. “I wanted you more than anything. I just didn’t know how to be the man you deserved.”
She scoffed, her chest rising and falling too fast. “And now you do?”
My gaze held hers, unwavering. “I believe so. I’ve changed a lot since you knew me back then.” Wasn’t that the truth?
She swallowed hard. “Well, congratulations. You finally told me the truth. Shame it’s too damn late.”
She turned, grabbing her coat, her heart pounding so loud I could hear it.
“Liv—”
“Don’t. And don’t ever call me ‘Liv’ again.”
And then she fled down the hallway.
Just as I was about to close the distance between us, the front door swung open. A rush of cold air swept in as Jerritt and Vahn stepped inside, shaking snow from their coats.
Fantastic. Just fantastic. An audience. Of all the rotten luck.
I didn’t move or flinch. On the other hand, Olivia practically launched herself away from me like I’d burned her. A damn shame, really.
“Well, well, well,” Jerritt drawled, smirking. “We interrupting something?”
Olivia crossed her arms and glared at me.
I took my time adjusting my shirt cuffs, watching Olivia out of the corner of my eye. She was flustered. Good. She should be.
“Depends,” I said smoothly. “Would you call intense workplace negotiations something?”
Vahn snorted. “Yeah, that’s what they’re calling it these days.”
Olivia’s glare could’ve melted the snow still clinging to their boots. I stepped toward her and leaned in just enough for only her to hear. “We’re not done, Olivia.”
She blew out her breath, and I saw her bottom lip quiver. It was quick, but I caught it. And that was all I needed to know.
We weren’t done.
Not even close.