His Dangerous Love On Ice (Olivia and Zane) novel Chapter 7

Olive’s POV

I’d found a reasonable place to have coffee not long after, tucked into a corner of the hotel café, nursing lukewarm coffee and debating whether my life had always been this much of a trainwreck or if it was a recent development.

Spoiler: It was recent

Three days in Chicago, and I’d already been mistaken for a creative director, cornered by the hottest hockey player alive. offered some mysterious deal I’d been smart enough to refuse, and spent every waking moment trying not to think about said hockey player’s bare chest and wet dreams.

I was doing great.

The cafe was quiet-thank God-just the soft hum of espresso machines and the occasional clink of dishes. I’d needed this. Space to think. To breathe. To figure out what the hell I was doing with my life.

And then the door opened.

I looked up.

And immediately wanted to throw myself out the window.

No.

It had been two years since I’d seen Ryan Mitchell, and the universe had been kind enough to keep it that way. But apparently, my luck had officially run out.

He spotted me instantly-because of course he did-and his face split into that same obnoxious grin I remembered from college. The one that made you want to punch him and also wonder if he was actually aware of how annoying he was.

He started walking toward me.

I considered running.

But my legs didn’t move. Just stayed frozen as I watched him approach, all cocky swagger and that stupid hair flick he’d never grown out of. He swiped a hand through his sandy blonde hair, blowing out fake heat from his face like he’d just run a marathon instead of crossing a café.

His teeth were too white. His smile too wide..

I almost gagged..

“Oh, come on.” He stopped in front of my table, hands on his hips, looking like he’d just won the lottery. “Don’t tell me who we have here. If this isn’t fate, I don’t know what is.”

“Fuck off, Ryan.” I took a sip of my coffee, not bothering to look him. “Fate is for paranormal romance novels. And you, buddy, don’t look paranormal to me.”

He burst out laughing.

That was the thing about Ryan-he didn’t understand insults. Not because he was slow, but because he’d somehow convinced himself that verbal abuse was flirting.

“God, I love it when you insult me.” He pulled out the chair across from me without asking and sat down. “It makes me hot. Turned on, even. That’s why I always came to you. Free spank bank material, you know? Easier that way.”

My face folded in disgust. “You’re a walking HR violation.”

“And you’re still gorgeous when you’re pissed.” He leaned back, completely unbothered. “So what’s new? Break any hearts lately? Ruin any lives?”

I set my cup down, debating whether throwing hot coffee in his face would be worth the assault charge.

I’d been sitting here, spiraling about my encounter with Zane. About the possibility-the dangerous possibility-that I might actually end up in over my head with him. The kind of over my head that involved his hands, his mouth, and a very bad decision.

And now Ryan had barged in and ruined even my fantasies.

“You’re a child, Ryan,” I said flatly. “And I’m glad I gave you the best three months of your freshman year. Now fuck off.”

He laughed harder. “Oh, come on. That was four years ago. I graduated last year, pulled my life together, and here I am. Living the dream.”

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