His Dangerous Love On Ice (Olivia and Zane) novel Chapter 39

39 /180

Olive’s POV

Zane got me the apartment in less than twenty-four hours.

I still didn’t know how he’d pulled it off-called in favors, threw money around, threatened someone, probably all three- but here I was. Standing in my first real apartment. My space. My name on the lease.

The cleaning crew had left two hours ago and the place still smelled like soap fragrance and some fancy new carpet. I walked through the rooms again, running my fingers along the kitchen counter, the windowsill, the doorframe. Mine. All of it.

My mother wasn’t happy. She’d called three times today, voice tight with that particular blend of disappointment and worry only mothers could master. “Just apologize to Grayson,” she kept saying. “Work this out. Come home.”

But I couldn’t.

Grayson had made it clear: break up with Zane, or don’t come back. And even though this thing with Zane had an expiration date, even though I knew it wasn’t real, I wouldn’t let my stepfather’s hatred decide my future.

My phone buzzed on the counter.

Zane: How are you liking the new place?

A smile pulled at my lips before I could stop it.

Me: You did quite a thing. I’m impressed.

I hesitated, finger hovering over send. Was that too much? Too… something? But I hit send anyway, watched it change to ‘read’ almost immediately.

Had he been waiting for my text?

The doorbell chimed.

I checked the time. Just past seven. Probably the pizza I’d ordere twenty minutes ago. Or maybe Brenda coming back because she’d forgotten to interrogate me about something. She left an hour ago after making me spill every detail about Zane, already demanding lunch tomorrow for round two.

It couldn’t be Zane. He’d been swamped with practice, games, whatever hockey players did when they weren’t turning my life upside down.

I walked to the door, hand hovering over the knob.

Something felt wrong.

I turned the knob anyway. Pulled the door open.

Cole.

He stood in my doorway like he had every right to be there, blonde hair slicked back the way I used to love, gray eyes locked on mine. But this time, looking at him didn’t make my stomach lip. Didn’t make me feel anything except tired.