Page 72 of The Bossy One

This wasn’t the same thing,at all.

But would Olivia see that?

I didn’t want to mess things up between us, and I sure as hell didn’t want to say anything that would make her feel uncomfortable, or worse, unsafe.

I decided to test the waters. “It’s so weird how people meet. You sat down next to me on a plane, and then you turned out to be the only possible nanny for the job. What if we’ve crossed paths before, and not realized it?”

Olivia made a sleepy sound, only half-listening.

I pressed on. “You write a blog on my site. What if I’ve read it, without knowing? That would be romantic, right?”

Olivia shuddered. “No thank you. My blog’s anonymous for a reason. Plus, it would remind me too much of that guy who cyberstalked me.”

A ball of tension settled in my stomach.

Olivia pulled away from me and sat up, covering herself with the sheets. “Declan, did you look up my account and find my blog up when I told you I had one? Is that something you can do as the owner? Because that’s really not cool.”

“No!” I sat up. “I mean, I could, with your email address. But I didn’t.”

Olivia clutched the sheet to her body, looking brittle.

“I swear,” I said, rubbing her shoulders. “I wouldn’t betray your privacy like that.”

Olivia relaxed and blew out a sigh of relief. “Sorry, I…” She ran a hand through my hair. “I guess that experience with Eddie freaked me out more than I realized. Thinking you know someone, and then finding out you really don’t.”

I pulled her back down under the covers and hugged her to my chest. “You know me, Olivia. I promise.”

She nodded, wrapping herself around me in return.

I held her until she fell asleep.

I stroked her hair, trying to tell myself I hadn’t just made a huge mistake by staying silent. But she’d been so rattled. And what we had was so new.

I’ll find a way to tell her, I promised myself.When the time is right.

Maybe I could drop clues, so she could figure it out herself, like I had. Maybe that way, she’d feel more in control, less blindsided.

Or maybe I was fooling myself, and the best way to handle this was to ghost @1000words and hope Olivia never put two and two together. But that felt like both a dick move, and, illogically, like I’d be losing a friend.

Outside, rain fell soft against the windowpane. I reached to turn my bedside lamp off and let darkness wash over us. I breathed in Olivia’s scent and tried to block out my doubts.

I’d never felt like this before—obsessed with a woman. Desperate to make what we had last as long as possible. It was ironic, since this was the only relationship I’d had that couldn’t possibly last. Sinead would come back for Catie, and Olivia would move back to the States.

The distance wasn’t an insurmountable obstacle—I could fly there every week if I needed to—but I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle it. After all, can someone really survive if their beating heart is on the other side of the world? No… hour-long facetiming sessions and weekly dates wouldn’t be nearly enough. I needed her with me.

Of course, asking Olivia to stay for me wasn’t an option. It was far too early. But if I helped her find another reason to stay in Ireland… If I helped her figure out how to monetize the blog she clearly loved, maybe get some sponsorships, so she didn’t have to nanny anymore…

I drifted off to sleep, restlessly searching for answers I wasn’t sure existed.

22

OLIVIA

Iwhistled to myself as I flipped through picture books, waiting for Molly to finish her shift here at the bookstore so we could work on our book, as we’d planned. She was actually running a little behind schedule, keeping me waiting, but I didn’t mind. An entire display of books could have fallen over on me and I probably wouldn’t have minded. Three nights of Declan was enough to put any woman in a bulletproof good mood.

Three nights was also enough to make me admit I was very much at risk of falling for him. I kept trying to keep things light, keep my heart safe. But the truth was, I was weak around him, and he always managed to get under my guard, even in the moments when I least expected it. I’d spend a couple of productive minutes thinking of something that didn’t involve him at all, and then he’d steal a kiss when Catie was in the other room, or text me something private when we were surrounded by other people, and my head would fly back up into the clouds again…or, occasionally, to the bedroom. His texts ranged from filthy to sweet, and sometimes both. By the time Catie was down for the night, it was too easy to lie to myself.

One more night won’t hurt.

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