Page 117 of Oliver
“I’ll try,” I whispered. “But you might need to love me enough for both of us for a while.”
Zahra’s gaze softened, her eyes shimmering. She understood what I was really asking, but still didn’t have the courage to voice—I trust you to carry my weight when I can’t. I’m allowing myself to lean on you, rely on you, in the places I’m too broken to rely on myself.
“I think I can manage.”
“After what you did to Ryan on your parents’ porch, I truly believe there isn’t a thing you can’t do.”
Her eyes grew wide, pink coloring her cheeks. “You saw that?”
I nodded. "It was incredible.Youare incredible."
"It was pretty badass," she said, her grin proud and devilish.
Zahra slid closer until our thighs pressed together, her warmth seeping into me, thawing parts I hadn't realized were frozen.
Her other hand lifted, fingers brushing against my jaw, tilting my face to lock eyes with me.
"I love you." Her voice was soft, but her eyes, those beautiful green eyes, demanded a promise. “No more lies, Oliver. No more secrets. We’re in this together.”
"Together," I repeated, and I meant it with every fiber of my being.
And this time, when she kissed me, there was no contract as an excuse. No pretense or performance.
Her lips were soft against mine, her hand coming up to cradle my jaw. I pulled her closer, pouring everything I couldn't say into the kiss—my gratitude, my devotion, my vow to be worthy of her faith in me.
Zahra Nazarian.
For all my scientific knowledge, all my careful calculations, I'd never predicted this outcome.
Zahra Nazarian.
I never thought I'd find my way back to her, never imagined she'd become the person who finally felt like home.
Zahra Nazarian.
She was my Lumina, the brightest light, the one who blazed so fiercely she shone stronger than even the darkest recesses of my life.
And I was never letting her slip away again.
Epilogue
ZAHRA
Warm lips traileddown my neck, across my collarbone, then lower, and lower. I stirred beneath soft cotton sheets, caught somewhere between dreams and waking, my body responding to Oliver's touch before my mind fully caught up.
"Good morning," he murmured against my stomach, his voice morning-rough and full of dirty intentions.
A soft moan escaped me as he sucked a nipple into his mouth. "What time is it?"
"Early enough," he whispered, his breath hot against my breasts, making my muscles jump. "We have time."
Somewhere in the recesses of my sleep-addled brain, I knew we didn't. My parents would arrive at nine. Emmet was coming by earlier to help us set up. Parisa and Darryl were already here, staying in the guest room of our Seattle apartment. And then there was all the food prep, the table setting, the?—
Oliver's teeth grazed my hipbone, and suddenly, breakfast preparations seemed far less important.
"You're trying to distract me," I accused, my voice breathy and betraying how effectively his plan was working.
He dipped his tongue into my navel before glancing up, eyes dark with desire, a wicked smile playing at his lips. "Is it working?"
