CHAPTER EIGHT
The dinner happened three weeks later, though neither of them called it dinner.
"It's a nutrition consultation," Lucas insisted, sliding into the booth across from her at Marco's Pizza, the twenty-four-hour place three blocks from Ironhaven.
"At a pizza place. At midnight."
"Pizza has protein. Cheese is dairy. Tomatoes are vegetables."
"You're a terrible nutritionist."
"I'm an excellent enabler."
Olivia laughed, the sound carrying over the half-empty restaurant.
They'd finished training at eleven, neither ready to go home, both gravitating toward food and conversation like planets locking into orbit.
Lucas had suggested Marco's with the careful casualness of someone who'd been thinking about it for a while.
They ordered a large pepperoni—Olivia's choice—and a Greek salad that Lucas picked at while Olivia inhaled her third slice.
"Tell me about Valeria Vance," Lucas said suddenly.
Olivia choked on her pizza. "What?"
"You've mentioned her twice during training. 'Valeria Vance wouldn't quit.' 'Valeria Vance would be proud.' Who is she?"
Olivia wiped her mouth, suddenly self-conscious. "She's the main character of *Chronos Gate*. It's this... series. Books, movies, comics. She's an agent who protects the timeline from people who want to rewrite history."
"And she's your hero?"
"She's everything." Olivia's voice softened.
"She's not like other action heroines. She's not a size two with perfect hair.
She's my size. Bigger, even. And she's powerful.
Not powerful despite her body—powerful because of it.
She uses her weight, her flexibility, her unpredictability.
Enemies underestimate her, and she destroys them. "
She expected Lucas to laugh. Instead, he leaned forward, elbows on the table, listening like her words mattered.
"When I was nine, my dad took me to see the first movie," Olivia continued.
"I was this chubby little kid who got picked last in gym class, who couldn't climb the rope, who cried when kids called me names.
And then I saw Valeria on that screen, and she was everything I wanted to be.
Strong. Brave. Unapologetic. She threw a man twice her size through a window and then ate a donut while waiting for backup. "
Lucas smiled. "A donut?"
"A jelly-filled one. It was iconic."
"Sounds like it."
"I started training the next day. Push-ups in my bedroom. Stretching during commercials. I checked out every book from the library, bought every DVD, found online forums where people analysed her fighting style. She's the reason I'm here. The reason I never gave up."
Lucas was quiet for a long moment. Then: "What happened to your dad?"
The question landed like a stone in still water. Olivia set down her pizza.
"He died. Heart attack, when I was sixteen."
"I'm sorry."
"He was my biggest supporter. He never told me to lose weight.
He bought me my first pair of hand wraps.
He drove me to every martial arts seminar within a hundred miles, even when we couldn't afford it.
" She smiled, but it wobbled at the edges.
"When he died, I thought about quitting.
What was the point, right? But then I remembered Valeria—she lost people too.
Her mentor, her partner, her family. And she kept fighting. So I kept fighting."
Lucas reached across the table and touched her hand. Just a brief press of his fingers against hers, warm and solid.
"Your father would be proud of you," he said.
"You think?"
"I know. Because I'm proud of you, and I've only known you two months."
Olivia felt her eyes sting. She blinked rapidly, blaming the pizza grease. "This is the most emotionally vulnerable I've ever been over pepperoni."
"I'm honoured to witness it."
"Shut up."
But she didn't pull her hand away. Not for several seconds.
They talked until two in the morning—about nothing and everything.
Lucas revealed that he'd grown up in a military family, moving every two years, never staying anywhere long enough to make real friends.
He'd started martial arts at six, competed internationally by eighteen, burned out by twenty-two.
He'd come to Ironhaven two years ago, looking for something he couldn't name.
"Have you found it?" Olivia asked.
He looked at her across the table, midnight shadows playing across his face.
"I think I'm starting to."
They walked back to Ironhaven together, where their cars were parked. The November air was sharp, turning their breath to mist. At her car, Olivia turned to say goodnight and found Lucas closer than she'd expected.
"This isn't a date," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Definitely not," he agreed.
"Because that would be unprofessional."
"Extremely."
"And complicated."
"Terribly complicated."
They stood there, close enough that she could see the flecks of gold in his green eyes, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his body.
"Goodnight, Olivia," Lucas said finally, stepping back.
"Goodnight, Lucas."
She drove home with her heart hammering against her ribs, wondering if Valeria Vance had ever felt this terrifying and wonderful at the same time.
Probably. After all, saving the timeline couldn't be harder than surviving a almost-date with your trainer.