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Ididn't remember falling asleep on the couch, but it was dark outside when my eyes opened. The TV had shut off from inactivity, and the house was still and silent. I sat up, cracking my neck.
The earlier events rushed back to me, and I leaned against the couch, my head in my hands. The press not only knew about Olive, but they'd also pulled up her records. My phone was face down on the coffee table.
How many missed calls would I have from my publicist? From the news? From that fucking paparazzi Jake Hall?
What about Jessie? He most definitely would have seen the news...recognized Olive's mugshot. By now, he would have put two and two together and figured out that Olive was not some gracious woman named Mallory.
Logic told me I needed to kick shit into gear and go into damage control. This was an opportunity that could change everything for me. I already had money, a career, my own company. But what I lacked in my life was purpose.
Politics had always interested me, and this was my chance to make a real difference. I needed to stay focused on that goal.
Yet, as I reached for my phone, I hesitated.
Olive's words echoed back to me.
I had been more concerned about how her mugshot would affect me than pausing to think about what it could mean for Olive or Claire. I didn't even remember what the reporter had said she'd gotten arrested for.
I'd been so focused on this goal of getting a girlfriend to look more presidential that I hadn't paused to think about the actual ramifications.
This was more than a political game to me...and it had stopped being a game the day I discovered I had a daughter. It wasn't just about protecting a future career I'd barely given any thought to.
I'd brought Olive into this situation. If anything, I owed her an explanation...and she didn't owe me shit. Ten years separated our prior relationship, and I had no idea what she'd been through.
But the way to find out wasn't like this. It wasn't trying to fix an issue externally. Not when she had a point...Claire had no idea I was her father, and this wasn't how I wanted her to find out.
I got up and went to check on Claire. She was fast asleep in her new bed, looking peaceful and unassuming. Just as I was about to grab a blanket from the couch, the guest room door opened. Olive stood in the doorway, wearing only panties and one of my t-shirts.
"Hey," she whispered.
"Hey."
"Can we talk?" She opened the door, implying an invitation into the guest room.
I gulped. She was going to tell me she didn't want to be here, that she was going to be moving out, that this would be over before it even began. "Okay."
Stepping inside, I fumbled for what I wanted to say to her. The door slid closed, and I wrung my hands together, twisting around to face her. "Listen, Olive. I'm—"
Before I could even get my words out, she closed the space between us, reaching up on her tiptoes so that her mouth was level with mine. She slid her hands into my hair, and her lips pressed against mine, her tongue parting my mouth, her kiss hungry and passionate.
I hesitated. Of all the things I'd expected, this was definitely on the bottom of the list. Her hips lifted, pelvis pressing against my cock, fingers diving into the hem of my pants. Blood rushed to my cock, and a gasp got caught in my throat.
Gripping her shoulders, I squeezed them and put an arm's length between us. Her chest rose and fall. "What?" she panted. "Don't you want me?"
Fuck yeah I did, but...this just felt...off. "Can we just sit and talk for a second?"
"What do you want to talk about?"
I blinked. Did I wake up in a different reality? "Olive, you were pissed at me just a few hours ago, and now you want to fuck? I'm sorry if I sound harsh...I want you, I do—"
She lunged for my waistband again. "Then take me."
Grabbing her wrists, I pulled her hands away. "Jesus, will you stop? What's the matter? This is...not like you."
Her hands fell to her side, and she shrugged. "Maybe you don't know me anymore, Lucas."
"Then tell me what I missed." My words spilled out more aggressively than I meant for them to. I reached out and gripped her hands. "Listen, I'm sorry for what I said about the mugshot. I shouldn't have immediately jumped to how it would affect my career."
Her eyes drifted down to the carpet, her shoulders slumping. She squeezed my hands, and although she still wasn't looking at me, I continued rambling.
