Chapter 4: Olive's POV

"What I'm willing to give you?"

I stared at him like he'd just spoken a language I didn't understand. Because what the actual fuck kind of question was that?

My eyebrows pulled together so tight my forehead hurt. "What does that even mean? I don't-I don't fucking know you. And you're standing here asking me what I'm willing to give you?"

I laughed. It came out bitter. Sarcastic. A little unhinged.

But my cheeks were burning. Absolutely on fire. Because of how close he was standing, because I could see every detail of his chest-those abs, those arms, that scar above his eyebrow that made him look dangerous instead of perfect-and my body was betraying me in ways I didn't want to think about.

When I forced myself to meet his eyes again, something in his expression made my stomach flip.

"Cole Maddox."

My blood turned to ice.

Every muscle in my body went rigid. "What did you just say?"

"Cole Maddox," he repeated. Calm.

"I know about him. About your relationship. That he's been cheating on you with my sister. That he used you for two years and then dumped you like you were nothing."

The room tilted.

How the hell did he know about Cole? About any of it?

Was this some kind of sick game? Did Cole send him here? Was my stepbrother in on this?

"And what are you?" My voice shook, anger seeping through the shock. "The cleanup crew? Here to-what, wipe off the stain Cole left behind? Make sure the poor pathetic ex-girlfriend doesn't embarrass herself?"

His eyebrow raised. Amused. Like this was entertaining to him.

"Did Cole send you?" I stepped forward now, couldn't help it, anger overriding self-preservation. "To make sure I stay away from his games? Is Hunter in on this too? Is this some sick fucking joke where everyone gets to laugh at the girl who was stupid enough to believe her boyfriend loved her?"

It wasn't a question. It was an accusation.

And the way Zane's lips curved-like he was enjoying this, my confusion, my anger, the way I was falling apart right in front of him-made me want to slap him.

Or kiss him.

I wasn't sure which impulse was stronger and that scared me more than anything.

"Cole Maddox is irrelevant to what's happening between us right now." His voice dropped lower, and I hated that it made my knees weak. "But I do have a proposal."

I blinked. "A proposal."

"Yes."

"From a complete stranger who somehow knows everything about my failed relationship, a magazine impulse move, and had me dragged into a room under false pretenses."

His lips twitched. "When you say it like that, it sounds bad."

"Because it is bad."

"Hear me out."

"Why should I?" But I didn't move. Didn't walk away. Because as much as I wanted to, as much as every logical part of my brain was screaming at me to run, I couldn't.

I needed to know what he wanted. Why he knew about Cole. What the hell was happening.

He took another step closer.

My breath hitched.

I wanted to step back. Wanted to put space between us. But my spine hit the wall behind me and I realized with a jolt that I'd been backing up this entire time without even noticing.

Fuck.

"Date me."

The words hung in the air between us.

I blinked. Once. Twice. "What?"

"Be my partner. Publicly. We attend events together. Build your profile. Make Cole Maddox regret every single decision he's ever made in his pathetic life."

My brain stuttered. Stopped. Tried to restart and failed.

"You want me to..." I couldn't even finish the sentence. "Date you."

"Yes."

"Fake date you."

"Does it matter if it's fake?" He tilted his head, and the movement made me notice how close he was. Too close. Not close enough. "The result is the same. Cole suffers. You move on looking like you upgraded. Everyone wins."

I stared at him.

He was serious. This man-this stranger who looked like he'd walked straight out of my most inappropriate fantasies-was standing here asking me to fake date him to make my ex jealous.

Like this was normal. Like people did this every day. Like I hadn't spent the last three days convincing myself I was done with revenge and games and all of it.

"Why?" My voice cracked. "Why would you want this? You don't know me. You don't owe me anything. So why the hell would you offer to-to-"

"Because it benefits me too."

That stopped me. The pieces trying to pull together in my confused, overwhelmed brain.

"How?"

His expression shifted. Something darker sliding across his face, something that made the hairs on my arms stand up.

"Let's just say Cole Maddox and I have... unfinished business. And having you by my side speeds up certain plans I have in motion."

"Plans." I repeated the word like it might make sense if I said it out loud. "What kind of plans?"

"The kind I'm not going to explain."

"Of course not." I laughed, sharp and humorless. "So you want me to agree to fake date you-a complete stranger-for reasons you won't explain, to get revenge on an ex I'm trying to forget, while you use me for some mysterious plan involving Cole that you won't tell me about."

"When you say it like that-"

"It sounds insane. Because it is insane."

He stepped closer again.

And this time when I tried to step back, there was nowhere to go.

The wall was right there. He was right there. Caging me in without actually touching me, and somehow that made it worse because I could feel the heat radiating off him, could smell that expensive cologne or soap or whatever the hell it was that made my head spin.

"Think about it, Olive." His voice was barely above a whisper now. Intimate. Like we were the only two people in the world. "You walk into every event on my arm. Photographers everywhere. Social media going crazy. And Cole sees all of it. Sees you moved on. Sees you with someone better. Someone he's been obsessing over for-what did you say? A year and a half?"

My heart was pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it.

"You know about the photo."

"I know everything about Cole Maddox." His eyes locked on mine, and I couldn't look away even though I wanted to. "Including what he did to you."

"Then you know I'm trying to move on. To forget him. Not play games."

"This isn't a game." He leaned in. Just slightly. Just enough that I could count his eyelashes if I wanted to. "This is power, Olive. You take control of the narrative. You show him and everyone else that you're not some girl he can discard. You're someone he never deserved in the first place."

God, he was good.

His words wrapped around me like a fucking trap. Like he knew exactly what to say to make this sound appealing, to make me want to say yes even though every rational part of my brain was screaming that this was a terrible idea.

And the worst part?

It was working.

I could picture it. Walking into that arena on Zane Mercer's arm. Flash bulbs going off. Cole's face when he saw me. The shock. The jealousy. The regret.

It would feel so good.

So, so good.

But-

"What do you really get out of this?" I asked, forcing myself to focus past the heat and the proximity and the way his eyes were making me forget how to think. "Because I don't buy the 'unfinished business' excuse. There's something else. So what is it? What do you actually want from me?"

His jaw tightened.

For a moment, I thought he wouldn't answer. Thought he'd deflect or change the subject or do whatever powerful men did when they didn't want to give up control.

Then he smiled. Slow. Dangerous. The kind of smile that made me think of wolves and mating and things that looked beautiful until they marked.

Chapter 5: Olive's POV

"Maybe I just like the idea of watching Cole Maddox squirm."

"That's not a real answer."

"It's the only one you're getting."

"Then I'm not interested."

"Are you sure about that?" His hand came up-slowly, like he was giving me time to move, to protest, to tell him to stop-and his fingers brushed my jaw.

And I stopped breathing.

The touch was light. Barely there. But it sent electricity racing down my spine, pooling low in my stomach in a way that made me want to clench my thighs together.

"Because from where I'm standing," he murmured, thumb tracing the line of my jaw with excruciating slowness, "you don't look uninterested."

"I-" The words died in my throat.

"Your pupils are dilated." His voice dropped even lower. "Your breathing's shallow. And if I had to guess..." His thumb moved to my pulse point, pressing gently. "Your heart's racing."

Fuck him for being right.

Fuck my body for betraying me.

Fuck everything about this moment.

"That doesn't mean anything," I managed, but my voice came out breathy and weak.

"Doesn't it?" His thumb traced my bottom lip now, and I had to bite back a sound that would've been absolutely mortifying. "We could be good together, Olive. Professionally speaking. Put on a show that makes everyone believe it. Make Cole regret everything."

"And what happens when it's over?" I whispered. "When we're done playing pretend and you've gotten whatever it is you really want?"

"Then we end it. Amicably. You get your revenge. I get what I need. Everyone wins."

"Except Cole."

"Especially Cole."

His thumb pressed against my lip again, just slightly, and my lips parted on instinct.

His eyes darkened.

The air between us changed. Thickened. Heat crawling up my neck and pooling in places I was trying very hard not to think about.

"How long?" I asked, because I needed to say something before I did something stupid like close the distance between us.

"How long what?"

"This fake relationship. If I agreed-which I'm not saying I am-how long would it last?"

He considered, and I hated that I was watching his mouth while he thought. "Two months. Long enough to make an impact. Then we part ways. Clean break."

"Two months of lying to everyone."

"Two months of taking back control." His hand moved to cup my face fully now, and I should've pulled away but I didn't. "Think about it. Two months where you decide how this story goes. Not Cole. Not your family. You."

God, why did he have to make it sound so tempting?

"What would we have to do?" My voice was barely audible now. "During these two months?"

"Public appearances. Games. Dinners. Charity events." He paused, and something heated flashed in his eyes. "Whatever couples do."

"Fake couples."

"Does it really matter?" His thumb traced my cheekbone now, and I was losing the battle with myself not to lean into it. "If it looks real, if it feels real, if everyone believes it's real-what's the difference?"

"The difference is that it's not real."

"Is that what you want? Reality?" He leaned in, close enough that I could feel his breath on my lips. "Because reality is Cole cheating on you for maybe the entire of your relationship. Reality is him calling you incapable. Reality is you standing in the rain at his practices while he fucked other women. Is that the reality you want to go back to?"

Each word hit like a slap.

Because he was right. Reality had been nothing but pain and lies and standing in the rain hoping someone would notice me.

"We'd have to sell it," he continued, voice dropping to something that sounded almost like a promise. "Make people believe it's real. That means touching. Holding hands." His thumb traced my jaw again. "Kissing."

My knees went weak.

"Kissing."

"If the situation calls for it." His eyes were locked on my mouth now. "Can't have people thinking we're just friends."

"This is insane."

"Maybe." His hand slid into my hair, fingers tangling gently, and I forgot how to breathe. "But you haven't said no."

Because I couldn't.

God help me, I couldn't say no.

I wanted this. Wanted to feel wanted. Wanted to show Cole that I could move on, that I was worth more than he'd ever appreciated. Wanted to be seen as something other than the girl who got cheated on.

Even if it was fake.

Even if it was a lie.

Even if it would probably blow up in my face.

His thumb pressed against my bottom lip again, and this time I couldn't stop the small sound that escaped.

I saw his eyes flashed.

"So what do you say, Olive?" His voice was rough now, strained. "Are you going to let Cole Maddox win? Or are you going to show him exactly what he threw away?"

I stared into those blue eyes.

Felt his heat. His presence. The way he was looking at me like I was the only person who mattered in this moment.

For one wild, reckless second, I almost said yes.

Almost let myself fall into this trap of his making.

But then reality crashed back in.

This man knew everything about me. Had orchestrated this meeting. Was offering me something that sounded too good to be true.

Because it was too good to be true.

Men didn't do things out of kindness. Cole had taught me that lesson thoroughly. They wanted something. Always. There was always an angle.

And I wasn't going to be used again.

Not by Cole.

And definitely not by Zane Mercer.

I ducked under his arm, putting space between us so fast I almost tripped over my own feet.

My chest was heaving. My body was screaming at me to go back, to let him touch me again, to say yes to whatever he was offering.

But I didn't.

"No."

He turned slowly. Eyes locked on mine. Expression unreadable.

"No?"

"I'm not interested." My voice shook but I forced the words out anyway. "I don't need your help. I don't need revenge. And I definitely don't need some stranger playing savior because he has his own agenda he won't even explain."

"Olive-"

"Find someone else to play chess with." I grabbed the door handle, yanking it open. "I'm done being a piece on someone else's board."

Sheila was right there when I stepped out, eyes wide with surprise.

"Oh! Are you-did you finish already?"

"I quit," I said.

And I walked out.

Didn't look back. Couldn't look back. Because if I did, I'd see those blue eyes and that body and that dangerous smile.

And I'd change my mind.

My heart was pounding. My hands were shaking. My whole body felt like it was on fire.

I made it to the elevator before I had to lean against the wall.

"Fuck," I whispered to the empty hallway.

Because I'd just turned down Zane Mercer.

The hottest man I'd ever seen in my life.

Who'd offered me exactly what some dark, vengeful part of me wanted.

And I'd walked away.

The elevator dinged. I stepped inside, jabbing the button for the lobby.

My phone buzzed.

An unknown number.

I stared at it for three long seconds before opening the message.

'Three days, Olive. That's how long my offer stands. After that, you're on your own. – Z'

I read it twice.

Then blocked the number.

Shoved my phone back in my pocket.

And tried to ignore the ache between my thighs that told me I'd just made either the smartest or stupidest decision of my life.

Time would tell which one.

Chapter 6: Olive's POV

His hands were on my hips.

Firm. Possessive. Fingers digging into my skin hard enough to leave marks.

I was pressed against something cold. A wall, maybe. Glass. I couldn't tell. I Didn't care.

Because his mouth was on my neck, teeth grazing the sensitive spot below my ear, and I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.

"You should've said yes," he murmured against my skin.

His voice. God, his voice.

Deep and rough and doing things to me that should be illegal.

"I don't-" I tried to speak, but his hand slid up my thigh, pushing my dress higher, and the words died in my throat.

"You don't what?" His lips curved against my neck. I could feel him smiling. "You don't want this?"

His fingers brushed the edge of my underwear, feeling my wetness, the softness of my heat.

I gasped. My voice caught hard in my throat, unable to speak.

"That's what I thought."

He pulled back just enough to look at me. Those blue eyes dark. Hungry.

"Tell me you want this, Olive."

"I-"

His thumb pressed exactly where I needed it. Deep. Hard. Circling.

My head fell back. A moan ripped from my throat.

"Say it."

"I want-"

He pressed harder. Circled again against my clit.

"Please-"

"Good girl."

And then his mouth was on mine. Hot. Demanding and consuming me completely.

I was so close. Right there. Right on the edge-

******

I woke up gasping, breath coming out hollow like I'd just run a marathon.

Sweaty. Tangled in sheets. Heart pounding so hard I thought it might break through my ribs.

And wet.

So fucking wet it was embarrassing.

"No. No, no, no."

I pressed my palms against my face. Groaned into the darkness of my suite.

A dream.

It was just a dream.

A very vivid. Very detailed. Very real-feeling dream.

About Zane Mercer.

The man I'd rejected three days ago.

"Fuck."

I threw the covers off. Sat up. My tank top was drenched with sweat, clinging to my skin. My thighs pressed together instinctively, trying to ease the ache that wouldn't go away.

This was bad.

So bad.

I'd been locked in this suite for three days. Three days of hiding. Avoiding everyone. Avoiding Hunter. Avoiding the possibility of running into Cole. Avoiding any chance of seeing Zane.

And apparently, my subconscious decided avoidance wasn't working.

Because now I was having wet dreams about him.

About his hands. His mouth. His voice saying things that made my entire body light up.

"Good girl."

I shivered.

Stop. Stop thinking about it.

I grabbed my phone off the nightstand. The screen lit up.

7:14 AM

And beneath the time, notifications I'd been ignoring for days.

- Texts from Brenda asking if I was okay.

- A missed call from my mother.

- And one message that made my stomach twist.

The blocked number. The one I'd blocked three days ago.

But I could still see the preview from before I blocked it.

Three days, Olive. That's how long my offer stands.

Three days.

Today was day three.

His offer expired today. Maybe by noon.

I stared at the message. At those words that had been playing on loop in my head for more than sixty hours straight.

'Date me. Be my partner. Make Cole regret everything.'

Part of me-a stupid, reckless part-wanted to unblock the number. Wanted to call him. Wanted to say I'd changed my mind.

But I didn't.

Because I'd made my choice.

I wasn't going to be used. Not by Cole. Not by Zane. Not by anyone.

Even if my body was currently screaming at me that I'd made the wrong decision.

I stood up. My legs were shaky, and I headed for the bathroom.

A cold shower. That's what I needed. A very cold shower to wash away the dream and the ache and the lingering feeling of his hands on my skin.

By the time I got out, it was past seven-thirty.

The suite was quiet. My parents were probably still asleep. Thank God.

The last thing I needed was my mother's morning cheerfulness or Grayson walking around in his boxers with his-

I stopped that thought immediately.

One thing I'd learned living above my parents' garage: Grayson was 'very comfortable' in his own home. And my mother was very loud about why she'd married him.

Some things you couldn't unhear.

I pulled on an oversized hoodie and leggings. Threw my hair up in a ponytail. No makeup. No effort.

I just needed air. Coffee. Something to clear my head before tomorrow's game.

Tomorrow.

Hunter's first big game with the Chicago Wolves.

The whole reason I was even in this godforsaken city.

"Fuck, I can't wait to get back to work and forget my life just shifted off its axis," I muttered to myself.

I grabbed my phone and key card. Slipped out of my room as quietly as possible.

The hallway was empty. Good.

I made it three steps toward the elevator before I heard it.

"Sneaking out?"

I froze. Turned slowly.

Hunter stood in the doorway of the main suite, arms crossed, with that cocky smirk on his face that made me want to punch him.

"Jesus Christ, Hunter. You scared the shit out of me."

"Is that how you greet your stepbrother after avoiding him for three days?"

I glared. "I wasn't avoiding you."

"Right. You just happened to be locked in your room the entire time we've been here."

"I needed space."

"From what? Me?" He stepped into the hallway. "Or from someone else?"

My stomach tightened. "From someone else? You tell me, Hunter. Who do you think I'm hiding from?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

He was too close now. Close enough that I could see something in his expression. Guilt? Concern?

I huffed hard. Of course, he'd deny it. Act like he was never part of Zane's master plan.

"You sold me out. Why?"

I could see recognition cross his face. His expression shifted.

"I'm sorry, Olive. I had no choice."

He muttered it quietly. Concern. Guilt. All those expressions I didn't want to see.

"You fucking sold me out, and do what? You just apologize? Do you know the mess you caused?"

My voice was rising. Almost a yell. And fuck it, I didn't care if anyone was listening.

"I said I was sorry, Olive. I really am. Did he-did he hurt you?"

I glared at him. The audacity to ask how I was feeling after ruining my life. Or maybe he was part of the ruin. Involved somehow. But I just stared hard at him.

The only thing I could say was:

"Move, Hunter."

"Olive-"

"I said move." I shoved past him. "I need coffee before I lose my mind or throw you off the balcony."

"Hey." He grabbed my arm. Gently. "I'm sorry. Are you okay? Did that bastard hurt you?"

I yanked free. "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine."

"Well, I am. So back off." My voice shook. "And don't you dare play games with me ever again. I don't know what your deal with Zane is, but don't you dare involve me again."

He held up his hands. "Alright. Alright. Just... be careful, okay?"

"Careful of what?"

His jaw tightened. "Just... don't do anything stupid."

I stared at him. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Forget it."

"Hunter-"

"Go get your coffee, Olive." He stepped back into the suite. "And for the record? Cole doesn't know you're here. I didn't tell him. So you can stop looking over your shoulder like he's going to jump out of a corner."

The door closed before I could respond.

I stood there for a moment. Fists clenched.

What the hell was that about?

'Don't do anything stupid?'

'Cole doesn't know you're here?'

Why would Hunter-

My phone suddenly buzzed, and I pulled it out.

It was a text from Brenda.

BRENDA: 'You alive? Or do I need to file a missing person report?'

I typed back quickly.

ME: 'Alive. Barely. Going to get coffee.'

BRENDA: 'At 7:30 AM? Who are you and what did you do with my best friend?'

ME: 'Couldn't sleep.'

BRENDA: 'Bet I know why. Starts with Z. Ends with ...ane Mercer.'

I almost threw my phone.

ME: 'I'm blocking you too.'

BRENDA: 'You love me. Now go get your coffee and stop spiraling. Today's a new day. Fresh start and all that bullshit.'

ME: 'Motivational speeches aren't your thing.'

BRENDA: 'I know. I'm trying something new. How's it working?'

ME: 'Terribly.'

BRENDA: 'Good. That's more on brand. Love you. Text me later.'

I shoved my phone in my pocket and headed for the elevator.

Fresh start.

Right.

Today was day three.

Zane's offer expired at noon.

Not that I cared.

Not that I was counting.