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Olivia is such a breath of fresh air, so much better at engaging these boring donors than I ever could. Her charms have them laughing, sharing stories, investing themselves in the magic she’s created at their table.

More than a few of them nod to each other when the dinner breaks for dancing and bidding on the fundraising items.

I gather Olivia’s hand and nod to the dance floor. “Shall we?”

Her smile is bigger than normal, fueled by several glasses of champagne and good conversation. I know she can move gracefully. I’ve watched her since that first observation of her training with her clinic subjects.

Maybe I can impress her with my own skills. Tilly had me taking dance lessons with her for months before our wedding to ensure I didn’t embarrass her on the day.

When I tuck Olivia against me, I’m excited to touch her so blatantly in public. To have an excuse.

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Yes. I didn’t imagine this would be as fun as it is. I don’t usually get such positive responses to what I’m working on.”

I laugh a little. “Well, to be fair, a good number of the donors are exactly the people you’re championing for.”

Her laughter peels up to the high ceilings. I’m enamored with her. Taken with every inch of her pale skin, those freckles create a beautiful landscape across her skin. I want to taste and lick every one of them. Map them out across her body. Study them like constellations.

I want the time to do so, and I haven’t gotten the chance.

Our start was set off with a bang. By my inability to keep myself in line. To convince myself that I shouldn’t. But I can’t say I’m sorry for giving in. Not with how much of my bandwidth she takes up now.

She narrows her eyes playfully at me, like she can read my thoughts. If anyone could, it would be her. She fulfills so many of my fantasies—and not just the sexual ones—that it can’t be a coincidence.

And as per usual, she submits to letting me lead. Olivia is a wonderful dancer, letting me spin and dip her in a few fancy steps.

I enjoy the way she clings to my shoulders for the last few steps, but just as I knew would happen, Nick comes and takes her from my arms. Then one of the donors from our table. Then, surprisingly, Matteo steps in for a dance.

But when he slips her out of the ballroom to the hall, and then into another room, I can’t stop myself from following.

We may be on rocky ground, but I’m not backing down without a fight. Not with this deep-rooted obsession simmering in my veins.

I find them in a stare off that I can’t begin to unravel. The volume of her skirt billows around his legs. Matteo still has his hand gripping the back of her dress, a half-drunk flute of bubbly in her hand, and they’re close.

That simmer builds to a boil.

Matteo sees me first, and there’s a pause before he takes a step back—not a big one though.

Olivia peers at me over her shoulder with wide eyes.

The fact that she doesn’t step out of his grip strikes a sore spot deep in my chest. I shouldn’t be so surprised. Not after the rumors about the two of them, although I would have pegged Nick as the more obvious choice.

Still, she’s my date tonight, and I don’t want to lose that small hold on her until I have to.

Olivia is quiet like I’ve never seen her before. None of us say anything. The tension builds as my gaze shifts from her stunned eyes to Matteo’s possessive hand on her.

I reach out to drag my touch down the back of her arm to take her hand.

Matteo doesn’t loosen his arm around her waist.

I’m presented with the idea of sharing her, and I’m not so sure how I feel about that. The idea of losing her completely is so much worse.

As if on cue, Nick appears with a half-hearted grin. “Looks like everyone wants a piece of Olivia tonight.”

His hands are stuffed in his pockets, and he looks Olivia over like he knows her intimately too.

“What is this? What do you all want from me?” She’s too still for the small warble in her words. Like she really doesn’t know what we want.

What I’m sure most men want from her when they get to know her.

Everything.

Matteo’s meaty hand convulses at her waist, clear above the billowing ruffles of her emerald skirt. Olivia sucks in a small breath and faces him again.

The coordinator’s usually grumpy exterior softens a little when Olivia looks down. Like she can’t quite meet any of our gazes.

He leans in a little. “Look, I know it seems like I’m overstepping. But it’s hard, okay? Seeing you with them…I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with that.”

She bites her bottom lip, worrying it before lifting her head again. “It would help if you told me what you actually want from me instead of assuming that I know or waiting for me to figure it out. Because you haven’t made anything clear to me.”

Olivia holds his gaze, then looks at Nick, then me; pink blazes in her cheeks, a renewed upset in her eyes—anger, fear, longing, I can’t really be sure.

But it pierces me with so many things I want to say. Want to show her.

“None of you have. And you’ve all had plenty of opportunities to say something. But since you haven’t…I feel like I’m being caught in the middle. How do I make a choice when no one has offered me one?”

A choice. That would mean two of us wouldn’t get to have her anymore. Fuck, I don’t like those odds. Even if I hope she will pick me. I’ve fucked up too much to let this be it.

“Olivia, we don’t want you to feel like you’re trapped. You should never have to feel that way.” I tell her, squeezing her hand.

Although the energy we’re giving off might be saying a different thing to her.

She sucks in a slow, calming breath and places her half-empty flute on a nearby surface.

“I get that each of you—you might not know what you want either. And that’s fine.

But you guys can’t look at me like this.

Like I’m supposed to read your minds and throw myself into something I have no idea will be safe for me. ”

A shake of her head has those carefully laid curls falling around her face.

Fuck, I want nothing more than to wrap her up and comfort her. Because she’s right, as much as I’ve opened myself up to her, I haven’t voiced what I want.

I didn’t exactly know what I wanted until I saw her with Matteo. Now, the threat of losing her in this confusion clarifies more than I’m willing to admit. And that’s the problem, isn’t it?

I’m not willing to admit it.

“I care about you all,” she says, voice stronger now, “but that doesn’t mean I can figure this out right now. I need to think.”

Matteo finally takes a step back. “Why don’t we let you have a moment to breathe.”

“Just don’t make any sudden decisions, okay?” Nick catches her gaze again.

Their connection is different from ours, built upon an easy friendship that I saw on day one. Can I compete with that? Do I have any chance whatsoever?

She nods, hands balling into fists. Olivia takes a deep breath. “I won’t, but you three also need to decide what you want because I’m out here in no man’s land too. And I just…can’t right now.”

Shaking her head, she marches out without looking back.

The fissure opening in my chest is damning. I don’t want to watch her walk away from me like this ever again.

Nick whistles low. “Well. I guess we should talk amongst ourselves then.”