Page 112 of Second Chance with the Single Dad Goalie
Her fingers twitch where they rest on her knee.
Ha. Take that.
“And secondly,” I continue, voice dripping with syrupy sweetness, “if anyone’s an expert on hovering, it’s you. I mean, you practically had a permanent orbit around him back then.”
Olivia’s smirk falters, just a fraction, but I see it.
Bullseye.
She leans back, crossing her legs like we’re just two old friends catching up.
Oh, please...
“Oh?” Olivia hums, tilting her head like she’s amused. “And what exactly do you mean by that?”
I flash her the sweetest, most innocent smile I can muster. “Oh, nothing. Just that you used to stick to Blake like gum on a hot sidewalk.” I tap my chin in fake thought. “No, wait, gum eventually gets scraped off. You were more like…, a leech. Yeah. That’s the one.”
Her eyes narrow slightly, but her tone remains smooth. “Well, can you blame me? When you have something good, you don’t just let it slip away.”
“But you did let it get away though. You let a lot get away, hm?”
That does it. Her eyes darken, her fingers gripping the edge of the couch like she’s debating whether clawing my face off is worth the assault charge.
I smile wider.
“You must think you’re so clever,” Olivia finally says, her voice as smooth as glass - but just as breakable.
“Oh, not at all,” I chirp. “I just think I’m right.”
She exhales a small, amused breath. “Right.” She uncrosses her legs, shifting forward slightly. “Tell me, Whitney, are you and Blake back together? Or are you just planning to secretly seduce him again?”
I blink, slowly. “Again?”
She scoffs. “Oh, don’t act clueless. You think I didn’t know? You two weresomethingback then. Right?”
I let a slow, knowing smile spread across my lips. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
Olivia narrows her eyes. “Cute.”
“I try,” I say breezily, leaning back against my chair. “But humor me - how exactly did you come to that conclusion?”
She opens her mouth, but before she can get a single word out, I hold up a hand. I lower my voice, widening my eyes in fake wonder. “It’s because you’resmart, right?” I nod, like I just cracked some grand mystery. “That’s it. You’re justsoperceptive, so incrediblyintuitive, that you justknew.”
She lifts her chin. “Exactly.”
I let a beat pass. Then, with the sweetest, most innocent voice I can manage, I say, “Smart, perceptive, and incredibly intuitive enough to leave your kids, I presume?”
The silence that follows is heavy. Thick. Charged.
For the first time since she walked in, Olivia loses that cool, detached front. Her lips parted slightly as if she wanted to respond but didn’t know how.
Oh, Whitney, you’re so evil.
I know…. And perhaps for the first time, I enjoy being this evil.
Before she can say anything, the front door opens.
Both of our heads turn at the same time.
