Page 35 of Little Did You Know

Papers shuffled on Walker's end of the line. "Maybe not, but this one's on the house. Give me a few days, and I'll get back to you." The line went dead before I could protest payment any further, leaving me staring at the silent phone in my hand.

I set the phone down and rubbed my temples. Walker had ways of finding out information that others couldn't, but waiting for answers felt impossible when Olivia's future hung in the balance. If Emmett had been stealing from her... My hands clenched into fists at the thought.

A splash from below broke my concentration. From the second-floor patio, the sharp scent of chlorine drifted up on waves of humid air. Below, Olivia carved lazy figure eights through the turquoise water, each splash echoing off the stucco walls. The late afternoon sun caught the spray around her, turning ordinary pool water into diamond drops. Despite my earlier frustration, my tension melted in the Florida heat as I watched her play.

Her proposal had been the last thing on my mind between figuring out the situation with Emmett and her nightmare. But watching her flipping around in the pool, the uncontrollable urge to touch her came back. Against my better judgment, I decided to join her.

"This doesn't look like you're catching up on sleep," I called out, wincing as my bare feet scorched against the sun-baked pavers. I stepped back into the shade.

Olivia glided toward me, hair streaming behind her. She propped her elbows on the pool deck, chin resting on her folded hands. "I couldn't sleep," she admitted with a half-shrug, water droplets glittering on her shoulders in the harsh sunlight.

The pool's surface fractured the afternoon light, casting shifting patterns across her shoulders where they broke the water's surface. Each ripple distorted her form beneath, turning her into something ethereal and untouchable.

"Yes, I imagine that would be hard in the pool," I chuckled.

"Funny." She rolled her eyes, and I tossed the towel on a nearby chair and dove in. When I resurfaced, I noticed she was watching me, her bright blue eyes suddenly dark and hungry.

A clap of distant thunder broke the tension. I pushed backward through the water, creating more space between us. "First day of work tomorrow. You ready?"

"I'm nervous, but yeah, I'm ready." She ducked her head, her eyelashes casting feathery shadows on her cheeks. Her fingers trailed through the water, creating small ripples as a soft smile played at her lips.

I treaded water, my legs working beneath the surface while my upper body remained perfectly still. "You’re going to do great.”

Time dissolved in the water like salt. The afternoon stretched on, marked only by the steadily lengthening shadows of the palm trees and the occasional distant rumble of thunder promising an evening storm. Being careful not to touch her, I managed to control my body slightly. It didn't take me long to realize that it wasn't her body I was attracted to. It was the whole package: her smile, mind, eyes, body, innocence, and all of her.

I hoisted myself out of the pool, water streaming down my legs onto the concrete. "It looks like it's you and me for dinner tonight." My fingers and toes were utterly shriveled and pruned. "I thought we could order a pizza and hang around the house." I grabbed my towel off the chair and ran it over my face before turning around.

Olivia emerged from the pool in one fluid motion, water cascading off her in ribbons. "Sounds good." She wrung her hair out with a twist, creating a small puddle at her feet.

Time stretched. Each step across the patio was torture—the flex of muscle beneath tanned skin, droplets tracing paths I ached to follow. My pulse hammered in my throat. The tiny pink bikini left little to the imagination, but it was the confidence in her movements that undid me. She knew exactly what she was doing. I gripped my towel white-knuckled, using it as both shield and anchor. The thunder rumbled closer, as if the sky itself understood my struggle.

Pressing my lips tightly together, I used my towel to cover the instant growth in my shorts. Desperately hoping she'd use hers to cover her exposed body, I stood completely still, watching her every move.

"Like what you see?" Her lips curved upward, but her eyes searched mine for something deeper than amusement.

"Yes." The word came out rougher than intended.

Something shifted in her expression—a flicker of triumph, perhaps—and then we were moving toward each other. Three steps closed the distance between us. Up close, her confidence faltered; her gaze dropped to the hollow of my throat, her fingers twisting together at her waist. The contradiction—this mixture of boldness and vulnerability—only made the wanting worse.

"I'm going to go change," she murmured, her voice lower than before. As she turned away, her spine straightened, shoulders rolled back. Not a retreat, but a tactical withdrawal.

Does she know what she's doing to me?

Chapter Seventeen

The icy water from my shower had done nothing to calm my thoughts. I stood in my room, hair still dripping, and stared at my phone trying to come up with a dinner plan that was simple and didn’t give off intimate date vibes.

Pizza seemed safe—casual enough for a conversation that wouldn't be casual at all. My fingers hesitated over the order button. Part of me wanted to hide upstairs, to put off the inevitable, but the weight of her proposal hung between us like storm clouds. We needed boundaries, even if every cell in my body fought against drawing them.

The doorbell's chime faded into the heavy silence of the house. My pulse quickened at the soft pad of footsteps descending the stairs. Olivia appeared like a vision of summer herself—her pink and yellow dress catching the golden hour light that streamed through the windows. She'd twisted her hair into that artlessly perfect mess she somehow managed, wayward strands escaping to brush against her neck. Each tendril drew my eye like a magnet, making me forget to breathe.

I busied myself with plates, trying to ignore how the simple act of passing her one felt charged with meaning. She settled onto the barstool beside me, close enough that I could catch the faint scent of her shampoo. The kitchen island between us might as well have been an ocean—too vast to cross, yet not nearly wide enough to dull the electricity humming between us.

The pizza sat between us like a buffer as I gathered my courage. The questions I needed to ask would shatter this fragile peace, but dancing around them wouldn't help either. I watched her fold her slice in half.

"About college," I began, trying to keep my voice neutral. The tension in her shoulders told me she already knew where this was going. "Did you manage to get many scholarships for your bachelor's degree?"

Her eyes remained focused on her plate, and I could see the instant hurt wash over her face. "No, apparently, there's not a lot of scholarships for homeschooled students." She paused, taking a drink of the wine I'd poured for her. "Emmett said the only way was to sell some of the stuff I had left from mom and student loans."

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