Chapter 13
Thirteen
OLIVER
Steam filled the bathroom as I plotted my next moves, mentally mapping out the week ahead.
The brunch went off without a hitch. I just needed to maintain our cover through the scheduled events, slip away when Zahra was busy with her wedding duties, gather evidence about the trust violation, and find the documents proving my parents' betrayal.
Simple. Straightforward. Logical.
I shut off the water and wrapped a towel around my waist, wiping condensation from my glasses before slipping them on. The bathroom mirror revealed a man with purpose, with a plan. Everything was proceeding as scheduled, despite this morning’s...complications.
The surge of desperation when she tried to wiggle free was enough to pull me out of deep sleep, but not enough to wake me up completely. I remembered Zahra freezing when I instinctively pulled her back to me, then melting against me like she belonged there, wrapped in my arms. Safe.
I could chalk that up to biology. Proximity and warmth triggering a primitive response. Like most natural phenomena, it could be explained by science, controlled through awareness.
But no amount of reasoning managed to erase the memory of waking up with Zahra’s scent all over me, her warmth lingering where she’d been curled up against me, the feel of her cheek against my heart.
How I didn’t need to be awake to be aware of her, to know that the best sleep I’d had in years was because she was in my arms.
I gritted my teeth, pushing back the surge of pure, unfiltered desire that shot from my hippocampus straight to my cock.
That was the one body part that could never be involved when it came to Zahra. Never .
I couldn’t afford the potential destruction. I needed to focus on the trust documents. Specifically, the codicil that should have protected our grandparents' house for Emmet and me. If I could access the original paperwork, prove the trust had been violated…
I ran a hand through my wet hair. It was the only thing that mattered.
I opened the bathroom door, my mind still fixated on legal documents, when a sharp intake of breath startled me.
I froze. Shit.
Zahra stood by the closet, in her hands a floral cocktail dress half off its hanger, her eyes wide as they trailed down my chest, lingering on my abs before snapping back up to my face. A red hue colored her cheeks, and she quickly looked away.
I was still frozen, unable to avert my gaze. So, this is what it feels like to witness a stellar collision in real time .
"Sorry, I'm… I…" she stammered, looking everywhere but at me.
"Fuck…” Her fingers curled into the fabric of the dress, her breathing coming in shallow, almost panicked pants.
“I'm honestly not sure what I should have done differently to avoid the situation, but.
.." Her eyes flicked back to me, widening a fraction more, the red coloring her cheeks becoming a few shades deeper, before she snapped her gaze back to the garment in her hand. "Shit. I’m Sorry."
"No, I should have—" I started but stopped when I realized she was shaking her head vehemently, practically begging me to magically disappear. At least we were on the same page there.
"I’ll just—" Zahra whispered, gesturing vaguely at the room. "I need to get ready for dinner."
She took the dress out and walked toward the bathroom with her chin tucked to her chest, eyes on the carpet, and that’s when I realized I was in her trajectory. But it was too late.
Zahra almost bumped into me, the collision prevented only because I reached out, letting her shoulders bump into my palms instead of a full body clash.
Only, without my hand holding it up, the towel slipped slightly.
Her sharp intake of breath told me she noticed, which meant she was still watching.
I quickly grabbed the towel, securing it, and we did an awkward dance trying to pass each other, both stepping the same way twice before I finally backed against the wall to let her through.
“Thank you,” she mumbled, rushing away from me.
Once alone, I cursed my stupidity. I was a professional, dammit. I didn't make rookie mistakes like not bringing clothes into the bathroom. But Zahra was a gravitational anomaly, a distortion in the expected pattern caused by an unseen mass.
The mass being between my legs, and despite his best attempts, he would remain unseen.
I dressed efficiently, trying to recalibrate. The county records office. The trust violation. The house. Those were my priorities.
By the time Zahra emerged from the bathroom, I'd regained my composure.
"Ready?" I asked, not quite meeting her eyes.
She nodded, her hair still damp at the edges, her scent—jasmine and something uniquely her—filling the space between us.
We made our way to the hotel's rooftop terrace in silence, the tension from our morning entanglement and the bathroom encounter hovering like a phantom planet.
The evening was already in full swing. String lights crisscrossed overhead, bartenders served signature cocktails, and professionally dressed waitstaff circulated with trays of hors d'oeuvres. Zahra had outdone herself, and this was just a casual wedding party event.
"My parents." Zahra pointed, her hand finding mine in a gesture that had become as natural as breathing. "We should say hello."
I let her guide me through the terrace, fingers entwined. This was fine. Professional. Just playing our roles.
Mina embraced her daughter warmly before turning her affection on me. "Oliver, you're looking especially handsome tonight."
"Thank you, Mrs. Nazarian."
"Mina," she corrected, an amused smile playing on her lips despite the scolding tone, then she turned back to Zahra with a mischievous grin I recognized well from all the time Zahra herself had teased me. "He’s impossible, this one."
Zahra matched her mother’s playful vibe with ease.
“So set in his ways.” She sighed, leaning her head on my shoulder. “There’s just so much politeness and gentlemanly behavior a girl can stand.”
“If you’re so tired of him, I’ll take him off your hands,” Zahra’s father interjected, placing a firm hand on my shoulder. “Go on, you two, take your harf-e moft elsewhere.”
Zahra and her mom took off giggling, arms linked as they joined Parisa and her bridesmaids at the bar. Mr. Nazarian watched them with an amused expression and a wistful sigh.
“It can be a pain in the ass sometimes, but that side of them keeps life interesting.” Then he turned to me. “I don’t assume I can convince you to call me Kamran?”
I chuckled quietly. “No such luck.”
“Worth a shot.” He shrugged. "I've been following your academic career, you know."
"You have?" I couldn't hide my surprise.
He nodded, a proud smile spreading across his face. "I read all your publications. Can't understand half of it, of course—all that quantum theory and astrophysics goes way over my head. But I always knew you were going to do something important."
"Thank you, sir. That means a lot." The unexpected praise created a warm spot in my chest that I wasn't prepared for.
"That paper you published last year on—what was it—relativistic effects on…quantum…something...” He trailed off, brow furrowed in thought, and I bit my tongue, not wanting to come off as impertinent by correcting him.
“Anyway, I had it printed out and showed it to everyone at work. Told them how you used to sit at my dining table with star charts and meteorite shards, that you never gave up on your dreams, and look at you now.”
“Those afternoons at your house are some of the best memories I have from that time,” I said quietly, a familiar ache in my chest. I received more affection in a single day in Zahra’s home than in my entire time under my parents’ roof.
Kamran’s features softened, and his hand returned to my shoulder with an assuring squeeze. “I've always been proud of you, son.”
The words hit me with unexpected force. Son . Something warm bloomed in my chest, quickly followed by a sharp twist of guilt. This man had treated me with more fatherly affection than my own father ever had. And I was lying to him. Using his daughter. Playing a role to get what I needed.
The guilt sat heavily on my chest, unexpected and unwelcome.
But wasn’t Zahra doing the same?
Still, it lingered, tangling with the genuine pleasure of Kamran's approval.
We fell into conversation about life in Seattle after that, discussing my teaching position, and the latest developments in astrophysics.
Kamran asked thoughtful questions, genuinely interested despite his limited understanding of the field.
But I found my attention increasingly divided, my eyes drifting across the terrace to where Zahra stood.
The sound of her laughter floated over the ambient chatter of the party—bright, unguarded, musical.
She was gesturing animatedly about something, her eyes crinkling at the corners, her hands moving with graceful emphasis.
She turned slightly, showing off the pockets in her dress with exaggerated delight that made the women around her squeal and clap.
I couldn't stop watching her, couldn't stop wanting to see her smile. I was entranced by everything about her——the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when someone complimented her, the subtle confidence in her posture as she navigated her element——it was like witnessing Halley’s Commet. A cosmic event most people only get to see once, if they’re lucky to be looking at the exact right moment.
Then I saw it—the change. Her smile dropped, the color drained from her face, her body stiffening in a way that was subtle but unmistakable to anyone watching closely. I didn't need to look to know why. She'd seen Ryan.
"Excuse me," I said to her father, cutting him off mid-sentence about my brilliant trajectory. "I think Zahra needs me."
His gaze followed mine, a shadow crossing his face, and he nodded solemnly.