Page 37 of Nine Months to Love
“This is serious, Stefan.”
“And I will be the picture of seriousness at our dinner that’s not a date.”
“It isnota date!”
“It’s a non-date.”
“Let’s call it a business meeting.”
I laugh—can’t help it. “Since our business meetings usually led to sex, I’m not sure that’ll make things any clearer.”
“Stefan—”
“Is that a yes to dinner or not?”
She huffs out a breath, crossing her arms again. But this time, it’s less defensive, more exasperated. Almost playfully so.
“Fine. Yes. Dinner. Tomorrow.”
“I’ll take it.”
We pull through the gates of the manor, and I can already feel her withdrawing again. Pulling back into herself. Building those walls higher.
But I got my yes. That’s something. That’s a start.
“Seven o’clock,” I tell her as I kill the engine. “Wear something nice.”
“It’s not a date,” she reminds me.
“Humor me anyway.”
She opens the door but pauses before getting out and turns back to look at me with those lethal hazel eyes.
“Tomorrow, you tell me everything. No deflecting, no half-truths, no protecting me from things you think I can’t handle.”
“Deal.”
“I mean it, Stefan,” she warns. “If you hold back on me again?—”
“I won’t.”
She searches my face for the lie, hunting for whatever trick she’s convinced I’m running.
But there isn’t one. Not this time.
“Okay then.” She slides out of the car, then leans back down to meet my eyes one more time. “Seven o’clock. And Stefan?”
“Yeah?”
“If you try to turn this into something it’s not, if you push me the way you always do—I’m done. For real this time.”
14
STEFAN
I watch Olivia disappear into the manor, her shoulders squared and chin held high. Seven o’clock tomorrow. A dinner that’s not a date. A conversation where I’m supposed to lay myself bare and hope she doesn’t run screaming.
The mere thought makes my jaw clench.
