Page 27

twenty-six

Lane

I test the water temperature of the shower to make sure it’s not too hot. Olive’s shivering, still wrapped in the blanket, sitting on my bathroom counter while I get it ready for her.

Once I’m satisfied with the heat level, I open my cabinet, grab a couple of eucalyptus-scented shower steamers, and light a candle, using both to help calm and soothe her. Then, I grab a plush towel and toss it in the towel warmer so it’s perfectly heated when she’s done.

“All set, Olive,” I say softly. “The water is warm, and the steamers and candle should help you relax. Take as long as you need, but when you’re finished, grab your towel from the warmer. I have some clothing here for you, too.”

“Thanks, Lane.” Her voice is weak, and she looks absolutely exhausted. She’s had a rough night, and I hope this can help her at least a bit.

I press a gentle kiss to her lips. “I’ll be out in the living room.”

I close the door behind me and head to my sofa, flopping down on my back and staring at the ceiling.

I knew Olive had trauma; she’s told me as much. But that…

God, that’s fucking awful.

It hurts to know that she had to suffer through that and that it’s been haunting her for six years. But she’s so damn strong.

I can’t even fathom the strength it takes to get up and carry on after enduring something so heinous.

And then to find out the fucker didn’t face any repercussions just because his dad was the DA?

She’s stronger than me because all I want to do right now is hunt him down and beat him to within an inch of his life.

I’m not a fighter. I never have been. But all I can see is red right now, and he deserves to face justice for what he did. If he only faces vigilante justice, then I have no problem taking it into my own hands.

I take care of the people I care about, and Olive is right at the top of the list, second only to my daughter.

I take a series of deep breaths to ground myself. I know this is just the anger talking right now. I can’t help but want to protect her, though. I wish I could take away the hurt.

It’s one of those times that I wish my grandparents were still here to talk to. I’d never divulge what Olive has been through, but I feel helpless, and I know they’d be able to reassure me.

I really fucking miss them.

After a final deep breath, I make my way into the kitchen and fix two cups of green tea after the kettle heats up. I know Olive will need some, and I feel like I could use some right now, too.

Steaming mugs in hand, I walk back into the living room right as Olive steps out of the hallway. I must have been in my head a bit longer than I realized if she’s already finished.

“I have some tea for us, Ballerina,” I say as I set the mugs on the coffee table.

Olive takes a seat on the sofa, and I sit down beside her.

She’s wearing another one of my T-shirts, and she looks a bit more relaxed than she did when I left her in the bathroom. I’m happy that could bring her a little bit of comfort.

“Thank you,” she says softly. “Tea sounds amazing.”

“How are you feeling now?” I ask, sliding a blanket over her bare legs after I pull her onto my lap.

“The shower helped.” Her smile is soft, but it’s there, and that’s reassuring.

“Happy it helped,” I reply, tucking her soaking hair behind her ear and kissing her gently. “You’ve had a bit of a rough night.”

Olive sighs. “I’m sorry for how the night ended, Lane. We had such a wonderful date, and then we came back here only for me to ruin it.”

“You did not ruin the night, Liv.” I cup her cheek and force her to look at me. “I had an amazing time at the restaurant. Sure, I planned for far fewer tears the rest of the night, but I don’t mind how it ended. You opened up to me, and I’m honored that you trust me enough to share that with me.”

She lets her forehead fall against mine. “You might actually be perfect. I’m so lucky to know you.”

“Sage and I are luckier,” I smile. “My daughter gets to look up to you, and you are incredible. I want her to look up and see such a strong female role model. I want her to be as strong as you when she’s older.”

“I’m not always strong,” she breathes. “I have days where the darkness wins, but I’ve been having fewer of them.”

“On your darkest days, lean on me, Liv. You’re safe with me, and I’m happy to be your comfort.”

“Thank you.” She kisses me softly before letting out a sigh. “I’m sorry for lying before.”

I look at her in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“About being a virgin. It’s just the easiest way to avoid unloading my trauma and avoid talking about sex. Nobody asks questions.”

“Olive.” My tone is stern, and I keep my eyes trained right on hers. “You lied about nothing.”

“I did, though. You can’t be a virgin when you’ve had sex.”

I wrap my arms around her and hold her against me. “You did not have sex, Olive. You were assaulted. Sex is something you consent to, and it should be enjoyable for you. As far as I’m concerned, you are a virgin. Virginity can’t be taken from you if you aren’t the one giving it away.”

“Gynecologically, though, I’m not a virgin. My hymen is broken.”

“You can do that riding a fucking bike,” I say emphatically. “It means jack shit in regards to your virginity. Sex is the only factor involved in that, and you did not have sex.”

“That’s what Corinne tells me, too,” Olive says softly. “She’s why I say I’m a virgin at all.”

I rest my palm against her cheek. “You say you’re a virgin because you are. And you’ll remain a virgin until you have sex, when or if that happens.”

Olive is crying now, but these don’t seem like sad tears. “Thank you, Lane. You’re amazing.”

“I’m not doing anything special, baby. I’m doing what’s right. You deserve to be reassured that nothing was taken from you.”

She leans over and kisses me before pulling back, eyes glazed over in a mixture of hope and fear. “Lane, what is… this?”

“What do you want this to be?” I ask, brushing my lips over hers before capturing them again.

“I don’t know,” she breathes. “I know that I really like you, and I have such a great time with you. And you know I absolutely adore your daughter. But I’m scared. This is all very hard for me.”

“Then we won’t put a label on anything, Olive.

We can do what we’ve been doing. I’ll kiss you every time I see you.

I’ll still take you on dates. You’ll still wear my shirts around my penthouse and come dance with my daughter.

We keep not acting too close in front of Sage until we know this is a sure thing.

Nothing changes except the knowledge that we’re not just friends.

We just aren’t giving ourselves a label. Would that be okay?”

“Yes,” Olive smiles softly. “That would be perfect.”