Right Man, Right Time (The Vancouver Agitators, #3)(49)

Ollie: I’ll make it up to you. Love you.





Chapter Ten





SILAS





A door clicks shut in the distance, stirring me partially awake. I open my blurry eyes and catch Ollie walking out of her bathroom.

Her hair is drawn up into a bun on the top of her head, and she’s now wearing a baggy pair of sweats and a crop top with no bra. She looks incredibly comfortable and sexy at the same time.

“Oh, you’re awake,” she says as she stops midway into her room.

“Barely,” I mumble. “What time is it?”

“Ten,” she says.

“Shit.” I rub my forehead. “I’m sorry.” I swing my legs over the end of the bed, and I stand, feeling so fucking sore that I groan.

“You okay?” she asks as she entwines her hands together.

“Fucking sore.” I hobble over to her bathroom, where I shut the door and take a piss. When I’m washing my hands, I glance up at my bloodshot eyes in the mirror and the frown on my face. The frown that appeared the moment I saw Sarah.

I thought I was prepared to see her. But I was so fucking wrong.

The moment my eyes found her, this dreadful feeling sucked all the air from my lungs, and I froze.

I can barely remember anything that she said other than that whatever she was saying was fake.

It was all fake.

She didn’t mean to come work at the Agitators? Bull-fucking-shit.

And the fact that she dyed her hair blonde, how I loved it, and wore the bodysuit I fucking loved on her? It was all premeditated to fuck with my head.

That’s exactly what happened too. She fucked with my head to the point that I kept looking back at her to see if she was really that fucking evil. And she was.

Evil . . . but also fucking pretty.

And I hate that I even thought that.

I hate that I felt a little something when she hugged me.

I hate that her smile thawed a part of my heart.

I hated everything about the goddamn interaction.

But most importantly, when Pacey pulled me to the side and told me to get my shit together, I hated that he pointed out that I was ignoring Ollie.

And he was right. I was. Because I didn’t know how to act around her. I’m not good at making an ex jealous and flaunting a new girlfriend—even though she’s fake. I felt like Sarah was watching my every move.

I push my hand through my hair, knowing I need to talk with Ollie. She deserved to be treated better.

My mouth feels dry, so I wet my finger with toothpaste. I quickly wipe down my teeth, then swish around her mouthwash for thirty seconds before spitting it out. That feels fucking better.

I exit her bathroom and head back into the main space, where I find her sitting cross-legged on her bed.

When she glances up at me, I just blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “I’m fucking sorry, Ollie.”

She looks away and says, “It’s fine. No need to apologize.”

Yeah, she’s upset. From her downcast eyes to the slump of her shoulders, it’s plain as day. I fucked up . . . again.

I close the distance between us and hop up on her bed. I hook my finger under her chin and lift so her eyes meet mine. “It’s not fine. I was an ass, and I’m sorry.”

She tries to look away, but I don’t let her. That’s when I notice her eyes welling up with tears.

Shit.

“Fuck,” she mumbles. “I don’t know why I’m getting emotional. This is stupid.”

“Your feelings aren’t stupid.”

“That’s the thing, Silas. I shouldn’t have feelings about this. It’s just . . . ughh,” she groans. “I felt embarrassed, okay?” She swipes at her eyes. “And I’ve been wrestling with this emotion ever since you saw Sarah. I realize that this is all just a job to us, going to these events, but it felt embarrassing when you completely forgot about me. It’s more of a vanity thing on my end, but it mattered, and it just felt like . . .” She pauses, gathering her words. “It felt like being with Yonny all over again. Like everyone else in the room is more important than I am, and I’m just an accessory to his agenda. And I know that’s how this is supposed to be, but I guess it just hit me differently.” She swipes at her eyes again. “Fuck, I hate crying.”

“I’m sorry,” I say again. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”

“As I said, it’s fine.” She sets her phone on the charger on her nightstand, then scoots to the far end of the bed, where she slips under her covers. “I’m tired, so I’m just going to go to bed. You can let yourself out.”

She turns her back toward me, and I realize I have two options here. I can either let her be and probably end up fucking this friendship up more than I want, or I can stay and let her know that she isn’t just an accessory.

I choose the latter.

I switch her light off, and I pull her covers back and slip under them as well.

Startled, she turns to face me and says through teary eyes, “What are you doing?”

“I’m not going to leave you sad like this. You say it’s fine, but it’s not.”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Silas. It’s stupid, okay? I’m probably due for my period, so I’m more emotional than I care to admit.”