Page 107 of Just One Bite
She likes it.
“Everyone only started to like me when I won Rage games. When I first came, I’d scroll through the forums looking at all the things people had to say about me. They thought I was going to tank the team because I didn’t have a pack.”
I still remember the sinking anxiety of scrolling through all the comments.
Packless.
No way he makes it through the season.
He’ll never be pro.
Sometimes, those comments still pop into my brain.
“They always have an opinion. The minute the team tanks, they’re all going to turn on me. It’s just the way it is. I stopped looking at that shit.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t think I’m helping your reputation any.”
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”
“Yes, I do. Everything is my fault. I make things harder for you.”
What does that mean? How could she think she makes my life worse in any way? She’s got to be referencing something specific, but there’s no indication she’s going to tell me what that is. I’ll just have to show her she’s wrong, and that takes time.
“Olivia, can I tell you something?”
She waits, eyebrows raised.
“Fair warning, everything that comes out of my mouth is going to sound like I love you, and I don’t want to add any more pressure to you.”
She stops eating, blinking suddenly. “Tell me anyway.”
“You don’t need to be jealous of another woman. Ever. Especially ones that steal your sweater. I don’t think either you or I have even begun to process this. I mean, you could tell me to go away and leave you alone, and I’d have to stalk you wherever you went. Nonnegotiable. I’ll drop out of university and follow you. They’ll have to lock me away to stay away from you.”
A trickling laughter comes out of her throat when she sees I’m serious.
“That’s what makes you smile today? The image of me stalking you?”
“I’m imagining you peeking in my window and watching me sleep.”
“Oh, you like that thought, huh?”
“Like I’m ever able to sleep without you anyway.”
She leans toward me, and all the fear and worry that’s been tainting her scent is gone. Her attention floats to my lips, and I lean in, desperate to taste her lips again. It tells me what I knew before the bond. This thing with Olivia is real.
A tall man in a dark-brown suit and a velvet tie catches my eyes as he stalks toward us in the dining hall.
That man is my father.
“Why the fuck is my dad here?” I say, reeling back.
Olivia’s head shoots up as he nears. Accompanying him is a woman with her hair smoothed down in a sleek blonde ponytail. His dark hair hasn’t started to gray yet. I’m a little shocked. I haven’t seen him in months since I didn’t go home for the summer.
“This is your father?” Olivia looks up as he stands over us.
“You must be Olivia.” He nods, holding out his hand. “I’m Fredrick Owens.”
She takes his hand in a firm handshake. I can tell because his brow raises like he’s somewhat impressed.
