8. Leah
LEAH
Coffee. That’s what I need to get my head on straight this morning.
Maybe that’ll keep me from daydreaming about these ridiculous fantasies that I am some sort of princess in distress in a tower, falling for three gorgeous billionaires.
The tower might be the only true thing about that story—because I am definitely no princess, and I can’t fall for three billionaires.
Not unless I want to end up looking like a fool again.
The real story is that I am a decent graphic designer with a shitty childhood, who was betrayed by her ex, and now his three brothers are trying to compensate for the mess.
Nothing more.
While I stand in line at the coffee shop to appease my caffeine addiction, I hear chattering behind me.
“The Oliver brothers are seriously just egotistical blowhards,” one woman laughs. “I don’t care how rich and handsome they are. They have more money than God. But what good does it do? They have a sad life if you ask me.”
Another woman laughs in response, and I feel my hands clench at my sides. The barista politely asks what I’d like to drink when I reach the counter, and I try my damnedest to ignore the two obnoxious women behind me. The barista seems to pick up on my unease and recommends the same.
“Ignore them,” she says quietly with a roll of her eyes. “Those two are gossip columnists. They come in here every day running their mouths about something.”
I try to take her advice.
I smile at her and wait for my drink, forcing my attention toward today’s work project. But unfortunately, these two women both have the kinds of shrill, invasive voices that dig right into my brain.
“There is definitely something wrong with them,” the second woman says, now taking her turn to mock the brothers outright. “How can you be that good-looking and still be single unless there’s something wrong with you? Maybe they’re just terrible boyfriends.”
“Nah, they don’t have relationships. They just fuck women and leave them. I never see any of them with the same woman twice,” the other woman shoots back. “With the exception of that married twin who knocked up his wife. He’s the only good one out of that gene pool.”
That’s it. I’ve had enough.
I flip around to face them with a glare that could kill. “Or maybe you two twats should keep your mouths shut about people you know nothing about.”
The chatter around me comes to a halt. Even the barista stops and stares.
“Umm, excuse me, who are you?” the first woman asks, placing a hand on her hip. “Mind your own fucking business.”
The barista slowly slides my coffee cup across the counter toward me.
But before I can jump to the brothers’ defense again, a familiar voice says something from behind me. Except that even though the voice is familiar, the tone is most definitely not.
“I fucking dare you to speak to her like that again,” Emmett says as he steps up beside me and picks up my coffee cup from the counter to hand to me.
I take the paper cup, my hand still shaking from adrenaline.
I’ve seen Emmett serious before. I’ve never seen him angry. His jaw is set, and there’s nothing playful left in his face.
“Sorry, Mr. Oliver!” The woman standing closest to me taps her friend’s shoulder, and the two of them scurry out of the coffee shop without waiting for their drinks.
“Come on.” Emmett turns his attention back toward me. “Let’s get out of here.”
“What are you doing here, Emmett?” It finally dawns on me that he was standing there during the whole exchange before he intervened.
He holds up a cup of coffee and smiles. “Same as you, getting caffeinated.”
On our walk back to Koi Tower, I thank him for stepping in. Not because I needed him to, but because I’ve never really had anyone do that for me before.
“No need to thank me, Leah. You’re the one who was protecting our reputation.”
There’s no chuckle after his words this time, no joke—just a simple, serious recognition that we both tried to protect the other.
He’s quiet for a few steps.
“It’s strange,” he says finally.
“What is?”
“Having someone look out for us for a change.” He glances over at me.
“After Mom died, Declan stepped up because Dad sure as hell wasn’t going to.
Rowan kept us steady. Kept us together.” He gives a small shrug.
“Me? I made them laugh. Somebody had to. And that became my public persona, too—the carefree one, who’s always ready with a joke. ”
“Why are you telling me this?” I ask, wanting to know what would make him want to share something so personal with me.
“Because what you did back there meant something to me,” he says.
“People usually figure we can take care of ourselves. And most of the time, we can. If something goes wrong, we handle it for each other. That’s just how it’s always been.
” He pauses. “So having you step in like that… I don’t know. I wasn’t expecting it.”
He cracks a small smirk, like he’s already regretting admitting that much.
We don’t say anything for the rest of the walk, not even once we get back to Koi Tower. Not even on the elevator ride up to my floor. But when the doors open, Emmett steps out and walks me to my door.
For a moment, we both stall there.
He’s stunning. His golden-brown hair and blue eyes make everything in my body feel as though it’s melting.
I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to wanting Emmett, especially now that I feel like I’ve peeled away his defense mechanism—the same one that I sometimes use to hide behind—and have gotten an intimate peek at the man underneath.
I reach out my hand to touch my fingertip against his chest. Emmett’s muscles tense in response. His mouth opens slightly without any words coming out, and the kiss we both want hangs between us.
“I don’t think this is a good idea, Leah,” he says after a few seconds of held breath. “Just so we’re clear—I want to kiss you. Actually, I want to do a lot more than kiss you.” The grin on his face suggests he’s enjoying the thought way too much.
The melting—it’s starting to drip down the insides of my thighs. I’m not sure whether that’s a metaphorical sensation anymore or a physical reaction to hearing Emmett confess that he wants me too.
He exhales. “You’re already tangled up in enough Oliver family drama. You dated one brother, who happens to be married. You’re pretending to be in love with another brother. And if I kiss you, I’m only going to make things worse—immensely more complicated.”
I want to tell him to forget about making things worse. That if he doesn’t kiss me, I might lose my mind. And if that kiss leads to something more, even better.
But I don’t, because there’s an annoyingly stubborn voice in the back of my head that knows he’s right.
I slowly pull my hand back. “I agree.”
He nods and backs away toward the elevator. I turn and unlock my door, not daring to look back over my shoulder at him. Because if I do, I know this moment of restraint won’t last.
After Emmett leaves, I can’t stop thinking about what almost happened between us. By the time night rolls around, I’m in my pajamas, pacing my condo with a glass of wine, restless and frustrated.
Finally, I decide I’ve had enough.
I set my glass of wine down and step out into the hallway. I walk into the elevator, bare toes pressing against the cold metal, and press the button for the top floor.
When the elevator starts to rise, so does my need for Emmett.
And if I actually gather the courage to knock on his door, there won’t be any turning back.