“I do.”
Shame floods me and guilt pounds in my chest.
There’s something I have to tell her—something we all should tell her.
But doing so would tear me in two.
“I’ll be forever grateful that you let me heal here,” she says quietly. The elevator descends slowly, and we stand in an awkward silence, her perfume stimulating my senses.
Before I can reply, the doors open, and a delicious aroma hits both of us. Savory and garlicky, I recognize it as one of my brother’s famous dishes.
Of course, he pulled out all the stops for her.
“Oh my God,” she groans as we step out of the elevator. “Is Dylan cooking?”
“One of the perks of having a brother that’s a famous chef.”
“He’sfamous?”
“Oh, yeah. A few months before, he was a regular judge on a cooking show.”
“What?” She asks excitedly. “That’s incredible!”
The stab of jealousy comes back with the knowledge that I could never compete with Dylan.
Everyone loves him. He’s always been the golden child. Always friendly, always…
“Wow, so you’re the tech genius, and your brother is the chef. You two are fascinating.”
I scoff. “I’m not agenius.”
But pride swells in me as we approach the dining room.
Her breath catches, and I groan internally.
Dylan went overboard, like I knew he would.
With the table set and candles lit, he laid a feast out for us on the table.
“Oh my God, is thatsteak?” She nearly groans as I walk her forward.
“Yup!” Dylan calls from the kitchen. “Filet mignon. Hope you don’t mind!”
“Mind?” She cries. “God, that’s myfavorite.”
Killian walks into the room, changed into a black button-up and jeans and regards us coolly. His eyes dart to Olive, who immediately turns her head to ignore him.
Oh. I could get used to this.
He doesn’t deserve her forgiveness after he paraded her scent around like a goddamn animal.
I pull out a chair for Olive and take the seat next to her.
Dylan and Killian join, facing across from us.
“God, Dylan, this is incredible,” she murmurs.
And as he pushes in his chair, he beams.