Page 81 of Oliver
I pressed my forehead against the shower tiles, letting the water drum against my spine. My fingers clenched against my arms, nails biting into my skin.
I thought I was past this. Pasthim.
But no matter how much time had passed, how much I had changed, my body still reacted the way he’d trained it to. Thetension, the instinct to flinch, the way my breath had caught the second his fingers had dug in.
He wanted me to remember what it felt like to be small.
I lifted my head, blinking against the steam. Too bad for Ryan. I’d outgrown him.
The water washed away the lingering sensation of his touch, his presence, his threat. But it couldn’t wash away my concern.
Tonight was Parisa's rehearsal, tomorrow was her bachelorette, and then the wedding. Whatever Ryan was planning, whatever Oliver was hiding, whatever was happening between us—it would have to wait. I had a job to do, a cousin to support, a wedding to coordinate.
As I stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around myself, my resolve hardened. I wouldn't let Ryan intimidate me. Not again. Not ever again.
But Ryan? He was coming for Oliver, and it was more than romantic rivalry.
It was personal in a way I couldn’t understand.
Oliver, though? He had no idea.
And if he kept shutting me out, he wouldn’t see it coming until it was too late.
Twenty-Four
OLIVER
The shower startedup in our bathroom, the sound of water on tiles too reminiscent of my hands smoothing over Zahra's skin. I couldn't be in this room right now. Not with her so close, so vulnerable, so unreachable.
"I need coffee," I muttered, grabbing my phone and key card.
The hallway felt too narrow, the elevator too confined. Everything in this place seemed designed to trap me with thoughts I couldn't afford to indulge. By the time I reached the lobby, my fingers were twitching with suppressed tension.
I bypassed the hotel restaurant, too crowded with wedding guests, and found my way to a small terrace on the east side of the building. A few scattered tables, most unoccupied at this hour, offered the solitude I craved.
Coffee acquired, I settled into a corner seat, back to the wall, with a view of both entrances. Old habits.
The first sip burned bitter against my tongue, the caffeine a welcome jolt to my exhausted system. I hadn't slept muchlast night, too consumed with the information I'd gathered, the connections I'd traced, the decision that loomed before me.
The Nazarians' home kept surfacing in my thoughts. Their warmth. Their acceptance. The way Zahra had looked at me before closing the door, offering a second chance I wasn't sure I deserved.
I'd spent my adult life being the rock, the one others leaned on. I was the strong one, the supportive one, the one who fixed problems. First for Emmet, then for Alyssa, now for Zahra.
But no one had ever been that for me.
No. That wasn't accurate.
It wasn't that no one had tried, it was that I didn't knowhowto lean on others.
I'd been self-dependent since I was old enough to understand that showing weakness in my household meant inviting criticism, not comfort.
So, I became the person who never needed support, but readily offered it to others. I became the dependable one.
Solid.
Unmovable.
Alone.
