Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
OLLIE
“What do you think? Please don’t lie to me,” I say to Ross as we hang out in the hotel we’re staying in for the weekend. One of the companies Ross worked with closely over the summer gave him a free staycation trip. So we’re staying in a very fancy hotel in Vancouver for the weekend.
“I think Roberts is going to hate them all.”
“Ugh,” I groan. “But I need to turn in something to him this weekend. I’m already behind.”
“Maybe because you’ve been consumed with sticking your tongue down a certain hockey player’s throat instead of asking him questions.”
“Can you even blame me?”
“No.” Ross shakes his head. “I really can’t.”
“What the hell am I going to do, Ross?”
“Well, I can tell you one thing, he won’t want to hear about snacks at a hockey game.”
“The nachos were phenomenal, though. That seems like a Vancouver secret.”
“I’m not denying the quality of nachos we had at the game, but I am questioning your sanity. Roberts won’t give you credit for your internship if you turn in an article about nachos when he wants an in-depth article on the Agitators organization.”
“Yeah, well, I have zero information regarding the Agitators other than they treat their families and players with respect.”
“So maybe go with that,” Ross suggests. “It might not be what Roberts wants, but it’s a twist on the story. You could start it off with how intimidating the organization is, but you were surprised to find they were nothing but welcoming, especially to a newcomer.”
“Yeah, that could work,” I say, my mind starting to turn with ideas.
“See, that’s what I’m here for,” Ross says as he tugs on the lapels of the hotel-provided robe he’s wearing and then sips champagne from his champagne flute like a freaking king.
“You’re really living up this moment, aren’t you?” I ask as I set my computer to the side and lie on my stomach across my bed.
“I don’t ever get sent gifts, so yes, I’m going to soak it all up.”
“I feel like you’re still on a high from being with Ian Rivers.”
Ross smirks. “That too.”
“Have you heard from him?”
“I have. He texted me this morning and asked how I was.”
“How cute,” I say. “Are you planning on meeting up again?”
“He wants to take me out on a date when they return from their away trip. I told him I’d love to.” Ross stares up at the ceiling. “He has easily the nicest body I’ve ever seen.”
I think Silas could give him some competition, but that’s just me.
“Well, I’m glad you went for it.” My phone lights up next to me, and I see it’s from Silas.
I swipe open the text.
Silas: Can we talk?
I twist my lips to the side, concerned.
“What’s that look for?” Ross says.
“Silas wants to talk.”
“So talk.”
“I don’t think I’m ready.”
“What do you mean?” Ross asks as he wets the rim of his champagne flute with his tongue.
I sit up and cross my legs on the bed. “Okay, so I went to his place yesterday to work out. I knew he was going to come home, so I took a shower and found him in the sauna. Well, let’s just say, things happened in there.”
“What kind of things?”
I run my finger over the comforter and say, “I gave him head, and then he returned the favor.”
“You saw his penis?” Ross turns toward me now, fully invested. “I won’t ask for details, just tell me . . . was it pierced?” I nod, and Ross groans. “God, that’s so hot.”
“So hot, but when we were done, I saw this almost dead look in his eyes.”
“Really?” Ross asks. “What do you mean?”
“Like . . . he was upset that I seduced him, and I don’t know, it made me feel awful.
Like, I assumed that once he finally had a taste of me, he’d give in to his feelings, but instead, he looked upset, pensive.
I don’t know, I think I messed things up, and him wanting to talk is him wanting to call everything off. ”
“Ah, I see,” Ross says. “Well, there’s only one way to find out.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want to find out. I just want to lie here, drink champagne, and believe I’m not about to get my heart ripped out of my chest.”
“You like him that much?” Ross asks.
I flop on my back and nod. “Yes, I like him that much.”
* * *
Silas: I know you’re busy with Ross, but I’d really like to talk with you.
I stare down at the text, my chest twisting in pain, my gut churning with uncertainty. Ross is currently taking a bath, enjoying every aspect of our suite as I sit here with a computer on my lap, attempting to write a story that I know Roberts will reject.
Knowing I need to text Silas back, I pick up my phone.
Ollie: Maybe we just save the conversation for when you get back.
I set my phone down but immediately see that he’s texting back, so I pick it back up.
Silas: I can’t wait to have this conversation.
My lip trembles as I stare up at the ceiling. Dammit. Yup, he wants to break things off.
I’m so stupid.
The sauna idea was so stupid.
Pushing him too hard was so stupid.
Because look where it’s gotten me. Instead of slowly trying to win him over and make him feel comfortable, I’ve created chaos in his life, and now he wants to get rid of that chaos.
Ollie: Well, I’m busy at the moment. Maybe we can talk later, okay?
I flip my phone face down and ignore the buzz from his text as I focus on my article. Come on, be intelligent, Ollie. Write something intelligent.
Don’t focus on the fact that Silas is about to destroy your heart.
* * *
“I could get used to this,” Ross says as he picks up another Danish from the Danish basket.
“Room service was created by someone who loves people, truly, from the depth of their souls loves people. Who doesn’t like to laze about their room, with an impeccable view, I might add, and eat pastries from a basket? ”
Taking a sip of my coffee, I offer him a smile.
I got no sleep last night—absolutely none.
I received a few more text messages from Silas, but I left them unanswered because I honestly can’t handle the emotions swirling through me.
I’ve done everything, and I mean everything, to get this man to give in to his feelings and give me a chance, but I’ve failed every step of the way, and that’s . . . that’s embarrassing.
I honestly thought I had a chance at being with him, that I could change his mind, but at the end of the day, when it all comes down to him letting go of his past and moving forward with me, he won’t do it.
And I know he doesn’t like Sarah anymore—he’s told me that several times—but she still controls him. She still has the upper hand, and I can’t compete with that. I’ll never be able to.
I just don’t want to hear him tell me that we’re done. I’ll be crushed, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that.
“You know, I can see that you’re trying to act like everything is okay, but I can tell it’s not,” Ross says.
“I don’t want to talk about it. I feel like that’s what we’ve been doing the entire time we’ve been here.”
“Because you’ve had a sour face the entire time. Look at the cart in front of us, Ollie. There’s a freaking pastry basket right there. It’s our dream, and you’re sad.”
I hug my pillow to my chest. “It’s because I’m sad.”
“Maybe you should talk to him.”
“And what, have him tell me it’s over?”
“Wouldn’t it be better than living in this limbo? At least if he does break it off, I can invest in a pastry basket to go so we can eat our feelings.”
I lightly smile. “Very true.”
My phone dings with a text, and I know it’s Silas. On a heavy sigh, I open it up, but instead of a text from him, it’s from Winnie. Why is she texting me?
Winnie: Hey, I know you’re away right now, and I really don’t want to get into people’s business, but Silas is really trying to talk to you, and I think you need to hear him out. They’re leaving in an hour.
I sit taller and stare down at the message.
“What is it?” Ross asks.
“It’s Winnie, Pacey’s fiancée. She said Silas really needs to talk to me.” I press my hand against the necklace he gave me. “What if he has something important to tell me? What if something happened to him? I don’t think she’d text me if he was going to break up with me. Do you?”
“That would be pretty shitty if she did.”
I type back a text.
Ollie: He does? Is he okay?
Winnie: He just really needs to have a conversation with you. If you want, I can give you the address of their private airport.
Ollie: Please, I’d love that.
I hop off the bed and run to the bathroom, where I flip on the shower.
“I’m assuming you’re going to go talk to him?” Ross asks from the bedroom.
“Yes, but first, I need to get this stink off me.”
* * *
All I’m going to say is thank God for Winnie because there is no way I’d be able to get through the gates of this airport without her calling ahead and making arrangements.
Even at that, as I sit here in the front reception, I have a security guard watching my every move.
It’s incredibly uncomfortable knowing at any moment, he’d have no problem tackling me to the ground and dragging me out of here by the foot.
I felt bad leaving Ross, but he told me he had no issue. He was going to take one more bath before he checked out, and having some alone time was just what he needed since, apparently, I brought down the climate.
I told him I owed him big time, packed my stuff, and quickly skirted out of the hotel.
I wish I had more time to fix my hair and makeup, but I didn’t want to miss Silas. So I went with a fresh face, hair in a high ponytail, and I’m wearing his hoodie and a pair of leggings. I easily could pass off as a fangirl . . . hence the security.
As my foot bounces up and down, waiting for Silas, a few players trickle in. No one that I know, though. I feel like I maybe saw Holmes, but I can’t be sure.
I check the time on my phone and glance around, hoping Silas comes soon. He hasn’t texted this morning, which makes me believe he gave up, and I don’t blame him. You can only text a person so many times before you realize they don’t want to talk.