Guess that answers that.
Since our little sleepover, my mind had run rampant with thoughts of Olivia. Showers were my favorite time of day. A moment to reflect on the way it’d felt to have her in my arms and wonder what noises she’d make if things had been different.
I shook my head. Olivia Hart was a goddamn distraction. The worst part was not knowing if this pull was mutual. I mean, I wasn’t ignorant. I noticed the way she looked at me from time to time. The chemistry was there, but was it enough to tempt her?
That was the million-dollar question.
It was best if I never found out the answer. If the attraction wasn’t reciprocated, I’d rather take my secret to the grave. And if it was? Well, that would just be the cruelest form of torture because I could never act on what I wanted anyway.
Lukas would kill me if he knew I was lusting over his little sister. He’d always been protective of her with good reason. Anytime she’d brought a boy around as a teenager, he found something wrong with them. When she introduced Grady as her fiancé for the first time, I thought he was going to have a fucking aneurysm.
Not to mention the fact that Harper and Charlie were best friends. What if whatever this attraction was between Olivia and me affected that? It’d sure as fuck make pickups and drop-offs awkward if we couldn’t even be in the same room as one another.
So, no. I wasn’t convinced it’d be worth it to try and blur the lines of friendship between myself and my best friend’s little sister.
No matter how tempting she was.
Stepping out of my truck, I headed for the door. I didn’t even get the chance to knock before it swung open, revealing a smiling Olivia.
“Duke, I didn’t know you were coming over.” She stepped aside, ushering me in. “Is everything okay?”
What had I just said about not wanting to rock the boat with Lukas? Because I was ready to call myself a fucking liar after being in her space for only a second.
Olivia really was beautiful. Her hair, normally pulled back, was down, making her bare face seem more relaxed. It matched the slightly baggy Hartfelt Homes t-shirt and loose-fitting jeans she was wearing.
It made me wonder what she’d look like waking up next to me one morning, freshly fucked and satiated, wearing nothing but my shirt from the night before. How it’d hang nearly to her knees, and I’d only need to slide the fabric up a few inches to satiate my appetite.
And her scent. God. The sweet perfume hung in the air, wrapping around my senses and holding my thoughts hostage with images of her head thrown back in ecstasy as I?—
“Duke?”
I blinked away the thoughts, focusing back on the woman in front of me. “Sorry, what?”
Olivia gave me a coy smile. “I asked what you were doing here.”
“John asked me to stop by, so”—I reached up and scratched the back of my neck—“here I am.”
“Oh. He didn’t tell me.” Her full, glossed lips drew together in a pout. The way they glistened in the light captured my attention. “But, then again, I’ve been so busy this morning that he might’ve said something in passing, and I forgot.”
She gave me her back, motioning for me to follow as we went down the hall and through the living room. I’d been in this house a thousand times since I was a kid, and it never failed to leave me in awe. High ceilings and viridian walls were accented by cedar beams and leather furniture. It was a mountain getaway dream. Large, arched windows were situated all throughout the house, leaving each room steeped in natural light.
As we stopped short of his room, Olivia paused. “It’s not been a good day, just so you know. He’s been a little out of it.”
I nodded, not needing any details. It wasn’t my intention to sit around and gossip with the old man. I was just here to do my job—whatever that may be. “Noted.”
She knocked once before entering, and I followed her inside. It was quite a bit darker than the rest of the house. The only light came from a single lamp on his bedside table.
It’d been about a month since I’d seen John Hart, and the decline was shocking.
He was sitting up in bed, trembling hands folded neatly in his lap. His olive skin was jaundiced, and his normally warm brown eyes were clouded and sunken. It reminded me of the bad FX makeup at our local haunted house that popped up every Halloween.
Except this wasn’t fake. It was real. John was dying.
I already knew that. Lukas had told me as much when wespoke, but it was different seeing it in person. Suddenly, whatever sadness I’d felt before returned tenfold.
“Took you long enough,” John said, breaking into a coughing fit. Olivia went to his side, eyes filled with caution, and brought a glass of water to his cracked lips.
When she pulled it away, she tutted. “I told you to keep the sass to a minimum, and what do you do? You make some smart ass remark and start coughing.”