Page 111 of Second Chance with the Single Dad Goalie
And then the line goes dead.
My pulse kicks up. And I don’t like the way it makes my stomach twist.
Chapter twenty-one
Whitney
Silence.
Thick, heavy silence stretches between us, the kind that fills the air with unspoken words and restrained emotions. I sit stiffly in the chair, staring at the woman across from me, mirroring my posture - her arms crossed, gaze locked, not a single muscle betraying a reaction.
Her!
Olivia!
Blake’s ex. Mia and Nico’s mother. Olivia.
What the heck is she doing here?
That’s a silly question, Whit. What if she’s here to see the kids??? Or take them away??? Or, or get back together with Blake???
Okay, calm down, Whit.
Her once-blinding blonde hair - the kind that made her look like she belonged on the cover of a fashion magazine is now a deep brunette. A deep, glossy brown,pulled into a high ponytail so sleek it probably took an army of products to keep a single strand from falling out of place. Typical Olivia - always polished,always perfect. She was a girl who never had to try too hard because everything just worked for her. The looks, charm, and ability to make people bend backward with nothing but a well-placed smile.
For a long time, she walked around like the world was hers for the taking. And to be fair? It kind of was.
And yeah, maybe I’m a little bitter.So what?
And now? Sitting across from me, arms crossed, face unreadable, she still holds herself as the world owes her something.
The kids are napping in their room. I don’t know why but I kind of feel relieved at that. The house is quiet. The only sound is the slow tick of the clock on the wall. And if you are wondering why two women are in the quiet house, not saying anything, it is because we are having a staring contest. One I intend to win, even though my eyes are stinging at the moment.
Blink. Blink. Or look away, Olivia. Do it, because I can feel my eyes twitching and would be out in.
Five, four, three, two….
Olivia exhales, clears her throat, and looks away.
Victory.
I resist the smirk threatening to curl my lips, but in my head, I’m pumping a fist in the air.
“So…,” Olivia finally says, her voice smooth, clipped. “You’re here.”
I tilt my head. “So are you.”
A flicker of irritation crosses her face. “Why are you here, though?”
I arch a brow. “I could ask you the same thing.”
Her lips curve, but it’s not a smile. It’s the kind of smirk that’s meant to cut. “I’m not surprised. You always did hover around Blake.”
I let out a short, humorless laugh. “Hover?”
She shrugs one shoulder, an infuriatingly casual motion. “That’s what it looked like from where I was standing.”
“Funny,” I say, tilting my head in mock thought. “I wouldn’t call it hovering since, one, I don’t hover. He hovered - oh, and still hovers, just so you know.”
