Chapter 3 #2
Connor pulled her to his side and placed a quick kiss on her temple. “Lover, this is Olivia. She’s a friend from my hometown. Practically my sister. I’ve told you about her.”
Olivia hated that phrase. “Practically my sister.” Any sisterly feelings she felt for Connor vanished in the eighth grade. But she’d put it all out there before and faced brutal rejection. Afterward, she shoved her feelings deep, hoping they’d never resurface.
Realization dawned in Connor Valentine’s eyes, and he warmed to her, a stark contrast from his previous demeanor. He stuck his hand out to her across the kitchen island.
“Ooh,” he said. “You said you were Olivia. It didn’t occur to me you were Hazy’s Livy.”
The way he said her name implied he’d more than heard of her. She furrowed her brow and shook his hand for a second time.
“You can call me Lover,” he said with a flirty smirk; the shy guy she’d spent the last ten minutes with fully melted away.
Olivia scrunched her nose, her immediate disgust at the nickname impossible to hide. For over half a decade she’d watched the media utilize that nickname like a weapon against the sweet man standing in front of her. “Yeah, no.”
Connor grinned, snooping in the McDonald’s bag on the counter. If it had been anyone else, she would have slapped their hands for assuming, but he knew she hated his beloved baked apple pies.
“You can call him Valentine,” he said, stuffing half the pie into his mouth and washing it down with more of Olivia’s soda.
“Valentine it is,” Olivia agreed, relieved to have that little matter settled. If she had to call them Connor 1 and Connor 2 forever, she’d never keep her conversations straight.
Connor handed the second half of his pie to Valentine, who didn’t hesitate to shove it into his mouth.
“I’m happy you’re here,” he said. “But why are you here?”
Olivia took a deep, bracing breath and reminded herself Connor loved her and wouldn’t send her out on her ass.
“I’m hoping you’ll let me stay here again. And maybe tomorrow,” she forced the words out.
“Be my guest. This big-ass house is usually empty anyway,” Connor said, no hesitation.
Relief made the tension fade from her shoulders. “Thank you! I swear I will stay out of your way and leave as soon as I can. I cannot go back to Lance’s.”
“Ew, I wouldn’t let you stay at that douchebag’s house if you tried.” Connor rounded the kitchen island and searched the space for something before raising an eyebrow at Olivia. “Where’s your stuff?” he asked.
“In my car.”
Connor moved toward the front door, leaving Olivia and Valentine to rush after him. When he opened the door, he stopped.
“Oh, God. Livy,” he said. “You’re still driving The Reaper?”
“Hey!” Olivia objected to his tone and pushed past him. “Don’t hate on The Reaper. He’s gotten me everywhere I need to go for a decade now.”
The Honda had been dusty and decrepit when she bought it at sixteen, earning its nickname on the first day with weird noises and a light show on the dash every time she flipped the ignition.
They called it The Reaper because they were certain it would break down someday, leaving them all stranded and left for dead.
“I can’t believe this thing still runs,” Connor said, prying the passenger door open and grabbing Olivia’s meager belongings.
He led the way to a room Olivia remembered from the one tour she’d gotten of his house when she’d first moved to Seattle.
Connor refused to pay for an interior designer, so his four guest bedrooms were sparsely furnished.
One acted as a home gym, one had a video game setup she would bet he never used, and the remaining two held nothing but a queen-sized bed, a desk, and one bedside table each. They were identical.
Connor dropped Olivia’s bag on the bed in the room adjacent to his own bedroom.
The room was a second master, with an ensuite bathroom.
Hallelujah. She’d shared a bathroom with him a few times over the years, and while he kept things tidy for the most part, the intimacy of the shared space could be hard to shake off.
“Make yourself at home,” he said. “I need to shower before Lover and I go to a team dinner.”
Olivia watched him leave, and when he faded out of view, her shoulders slumped.
Lover followed Connor and Olivia around like a lost puppy, and he remained in the room. He peeked around the corner, his eyes following Connor. After a few seconds he turned his attention to Olivia and rocked on the balls of his feet, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets.
“Sooo. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Olivia opened her bag and rifled through it, searching for nothing in particular. She hated small talk and didn’t know how to interact with Connor’s best friend, considering she’d already been accused of hitting on him once.
“Oh, yeah?” she asked. “Connor hasn’t told me much about you, but that’s my own fault. I’ve kinda been in my own little world for a while now.”
“I’m shocked we haven’t met sooner. He couldn’t shut up about you moving to Seattle, and then it’s like you fell off the face of the earth. Total silence. I figured you guys were fighting.”
“Connor and I don’t fight,” Olivia said, telling the truth. They never fought. Even when they should’ve.
The statement didn’t leave much room for a response, and Valentine looked around the room awkwardly before saying, “Hey, I’m sorry about before. I didn’t know who you were.”
She abandoned her bag on the floor and sat on the edge of the bed, looking up at him. “I’m sorry, too. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
Lover’s cheeks turned pink again, and Olivia bit her lip to hide a smile. He didn’t acknowledge her apology, instead saying, “You’re different from what I expected.”
The smile she’d been fighting morphed into a frown. “Different how?”
Valentine shrugged. “I expected some whimsical little fairy tale creature, with how Hazy described you.”
Olivia took stock of her appearance. Gray blouse with a coffee stain down the front, dirty blonde hair pulled into a messy updo, no makeup except the concealer and lipstick she’d just applied, and fingernails bitten to the quick.
About as far from a mythical creature as you could get.
Oof. If she had been trying to flirt earlier, she would have gotten nowhere. She sighed.
“Yeah, I can see how if that’s how Connor sold me you’d be disappointed.”
“Whoa,” Valentine said, closing the distance between them in two strides before taking a seat on the bed next to her. He hovered an arm around her shoulders but froze before making contact. She leaned into him, welcoming the touch before he could pull away.
That tiny moment explained so much about Connor’s relationship with Valentine to Olivia.
Connor had always been great at surrounding himself with wonderful people.
It was a skill Olivia lacked. She had a habit of choosing friends who didn’t care as much about her as she did about them.
Valentine’s willingness to comfort a virtual stranger, and his hesitance to offer that comfort without consent spoke volumes.
She’d seen his sense of humor in team interviews and got to know little pieces of his personality from the few stories Connor had told her.
But that one small act of kindness, with nobody there to witness, was the tip of the iceberg.
She knew that’s what had drawn Connor in, and it made her excited to get to know Valentine better.
After a quick squeeze he said, “I didn’t say I was disappointed.”
“But you are,” Olivia pressed, unsure why she couldn’t let it go.
The hug helped lighten her mood, and she plopped onto the bed, probably inadvisably comfortable with this new man in her life.
Valentine followed her lead, flopping back so they lay side-by-side, their feet dangling off the end of the bed, both of them staring at the ceiling fan spinning in lazy circles.
“I’m not disappointed,” he said. “I’m surprised. There’s a big difference.”
“I used to be like Connor described me. I was fun. And cute. But life happened. It sucked. I thought I had it all. Maybe I never had anything.”
Valentine nudged her with an elbow, prompting her to meet his eyes.
“Nobody gets to have everything. But you have Hazy, and that’s a pretty good start.”
Olivia huffed out an unamused laugh. “Connor can’t be everything for me. And he shouldn’t have to be.”
“I never said he should be everything. I said he was a start. You know what always cheers me up?”
“Hmm?”
“Watching people beat the shit out of each other on the ice. You should come to our next game. Daisy would be thrilled to meet you.”
Daisy was the wife of Connor’s other linemate, Connor Greene.
Connor had been trying to convince Olivia to meet up with her for months, but she’d never been able to find the time.
Anything would be better than waiting around a giant, cold, empty house for Connor to come home.
And who knew if he’d come home alone. Her stomach churned at yet another reason she couldn’t stay here indefinitely.
Maybe Daisy would be nice. She needed some new girlfriends since her work friends had abandoned her.
“That does sound fun,” she said.
“Sweet!” Valentine swung his legs in the air, using the leverage he created to hop off the bed. “I’ll tell Daisy.”
The next day, Olivia braced herself to talk to Lance.
She hadn’t reached out to him since finding him wrapped up in Amanda.
While trying to figure out her financial issues without talking to him, the bank said someone had reported her card stolen.
They’d thankfully issued her a new card, but they also told her she only had seven dollars.
Olivia didn’t know how Lance organized their money.
Maybe an unexpected bill came out. But he also had his own private accounts.
She requested a printed copy of the recent transactions.
Lance had drained their account of thousands of dollars, filtering it into his private accounts the same night she discovered his cheating.
She set her paycheck to deposit into a separate account so moving forward her finances would be her own to manage, but payday was a week away.
She waited in the parking lot after work, since he would arrive shortly after her shift ended. Her anger grew as she waited for him. He had an assigned parking spot, and she leaned against the wall in the parking garage in front of it. As he parked, he rolled his eyes.
“Hi,” she greeted him as he climbed out of his car. Her hands balled into fists at her sides in an attempt to keep from strangling him.
“What do you want, Olivia?” he asked, annoyance heavy in his tone.
She cut right to the chase. “I went to the bank.”
“And?”
“Our joint account is empty. I’d like my portion of the money returned so I can get a hotel room.” There. She could be polite.
Lance snorted, slamming his car door. “There’s no money. I don’t have ‘your portion.’ It’s our money, and I spent it on our household.”
Bile rose in Olivia’s throat. How had he spent all their money? They worked hard for years to get to a comfortable place financially.
“You had no right to spend my money.”
“My name is on the account. It’s my money. You were never good with finances; maybe you squandered it.”
Olivia wouldn’t let him gaslight her into thinking this was her fault.
When they first got together, she had a horrible time managing money.
She’d struggled with a shopping addiction as a college student, her money disappearing before her bills came out, resulting in almost facing eviction on multiple occasions.
Money had always been tight growing up. If she didn’t spend her money as soon as she got it, she didn’t get to spend it.
It would inevitably supplement the family income, going toward groceries, gas, and unexpected emergencies.
She should probably see a therapist, but that cost a lot of money she obviously didn’t have.
Lance started toward the elevator. Olivia marched after him, digging through her purse.
“What the hell do you suggest I do then?” she asked.
“You can always come home,” he said, his arrogance grating on her nerves.
“You said we were over when I left.”
“I changed my mind.”
“We’re not getting back together.” If she gave in, they would fall into the same pattern they’d been in, and she would delude herself into thinking he would change.
“Bummer,” Lance’s tone fell flat. “Guess you’re on your own.”
Olivia’s heart dropped into her stomach. She didn’t know what she had expected, but it certainly wasn’t him leaving her to suffer. Angry tears tickled her nose and spilled over her cheeks. She pulled the bank statement from her purse and handed it to him.
“You took the money; please put it back.”
He scanned the bank statement, then shoved it at her, pressing the button on the elevator. The doors slid open, and he stepped inside.
“Come home, or figure it out yourself.” He pushed the door close button, and the elevator shut in Olivia’s face.