Page 10 of What If It's You?

“I thought you might like it.”

“Even though champagne always gives me a headache?”

“It’s just one glass, Lo. And it’s a special night.”

“I suppose.” I rolled my eyes, pointedly reaching for the dregs of my cocktail instead.

“What do you mean yousuppose?” Ollie said, posture going wary.

“I don’t know. I guess I just thought after five years…maybe we’d try something different, you know? At least a differentappetizer.” The hurt flickering in Ollie’s eyes gut-punched me, but I just jutted my jaw protectively.The alternative would be a whole hell of a lot worse for both of us.

“I thought you liked it here.”

“I do like it here. But that doesn’t mean I want to stop having new experiences. I’m not even thirty yet.”

“You don’t think we have new experiences? Weren’t you just talking about Morocco this morning?”

“You know what I mean,” I snapped. Though I wasn’t sure how he could, seeing asIdidn’t. I’d been looking forward to our special anniversary dinner for weeks…

Ollie leaned back in his chair, hooking the champagne flute with a finger and taking a long sip. His features had taken on a set, closed quality that perversely highlighted the sharp edges of his strong jaw and the heavy, half-mast gaze that had always made audiences swoon. If I didn’t feel like a frayed wire I would have laughed. Ofcoursethis is when he goes and looks his absolute sexiest.

“Did I do something to upset you?”

“No. At least…nothing in particular.”

“Is this about the towel this morning? I picked it up, you know.”

“Seriously, Ollie? Are you evenlisteningto me?”

“Of course I’m listening. I just don’t understand what changed in the last”—he made a show of looking at his watch—“three minutes.” I could see his Adam’s apple bobbing furiously. One hand drifted to his pocket. “Is this about something else?”

Yes.

“No. Jesus, do you even realize how insulting that is?” I could feel myself picking up steam now, anxiety blending with the slurry of random resentment every long-term couple could draw on in a pinch—Why does he always think he knows better?How could anyone say yes to forever with someone who…

Could see them? Cared about them?

Jesus, what was going on with me right now?

But Ollie’s jaw was already tightening, the annoyance in my tone reflected in his eyes.

“I’m not a mind reader. I can’t exactly guess what’s up if you’re gonna constantly shut me out.”

“Excuse me?”

“Were you at some other dinner? Because at this one, I’ve been trying to get you to open up for the last hour and a half and you just keep brushing me off. I know my job isn’t as high-powered as yours, but I’m not some simpleton.”

“What are you talking about?” I frowned, genuinely confused. What didworkhave to do with any of this?

“Whenever I ask you about your work you act like it’s either top secret or above my pay grade. So I’ve mostly stopped asking. Because either you don’t trust me, or you think I’m too stupid to bother discussing it with, and neither feels particularly great.”

“You know I don’t think that, Ollie.”

“Sure. It’s all just tooinside baseballfor me to possibly understand, right?”

I winced, because he was right, Ihadbeen trying to shut him out, though not for the reasons he thought. Which led to an unbidden memory of the way Drew’s eyes had lingered on my mouth…the way I hadn’t ended the moment sooner. The guilty, stomach-twisty feeling I’d been fighting all night intensified, sharpening so suddenly I almost bent double.

“So not wanting to bore you with office politics makes me the bitch?”

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