His Dangerous Love On Ice Chapter 17: Olive's Pov

Olive’s POV

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," I gasped, feeling my face burn with embarrassment, scrambling to try to stop the flow even though it was already too late. "I didn't mean to, I'll clean it up, I'm sorry—"

He didn't say anything, just walked to another counter and grabbed a towel, coming back to wipe up the mess like it was completely normal for guests to destroy his kitchen within five minutes of arriving.

He cleaned it methodically, taking his time, not showing any sign of being annoyed or angry or judging me for being such a disaster, and when he was done he tossed the towel in a bin and grabbed the juice from my still-shaking hands.

He poured both glasses himself, handed one to me without a word, and I just stood there staring at him because I couldn't reconcile this calm, patient version with the cold, calculating man who'd rejected me at the arena.

The last time something like this had happened—the last time I'd spilled something trying to serve Cole—he'd made me feel like I was the clumsiest, most worthless person alive, had brought it up for weeks afterward like it was proof I couldn't do anything right.

But Zane hadn't said a single judgmental word, hadn't made me feel small, had just... cleaned it up and moved on like it didn't matter.

"Why did you come here, Olive?" he asked finally, taking a sip of his juice and watching me over the rim of the glass.

"I came because—" I started, then stopped, because how was I supposed to explain this without sounding as desperate as Cole had accused me of being?

"Because you decided to accept my deal," he finished for me, setting his glass down and crossing his arms in a way that made his biceps strain against his sleeves.

"Yes," I said, raising my chin even though my heart was pounding. "The one you offered when you ambushed me that first day."

He laughed, actually laughed, and the sound did something strange to my insides that I refused to acknowledge. "I'm sorry about the ambush, but you have to admit it worked."

"It's called kidnapping," I shot back, finding my voice again. "What you did was kidnap me."

"It's not kidnapping if your brother was involved and no one got hurt," he replied smoothly, and I hated that he had an answer for everything. "And it's been three days since then and you never reported it, so clearly you're fine."

I rolled my eyes because arguing with someone like Zane was pointless, he was always going to be two steps ahead, always going to twist things until you forgot what you were even mad about.

"Okay, fine," I said, setting my glass down harder than necessary. "I accept the deal. Whatever offer you made, I'm saying yes."

"That's cute," he said, and the condescension in his tone made me want to throw my juice at him. "But I'm not interested anymore."

"So you're really going to use this as an opportunity to what, punish me?" I could hear my voice rising and feel my control slipping. "You're being an opportunist right now."

"Am I?" He tilted his head, studying me like I was some kind of interesting experiment. "Because from where I'm standing, you're the one who rejected my offer and now wants it back because something changed, and I'm willing to bet it has nothing to do with me and everything to do with whatever situation you've gotten yourself into."

He was right, and I hated it, hated that he could see through me so easily, hated that I was transparent in a way I'd never wanted to be.

"Fine," I said, dropping the attitude because clearly it wasn't working. "You're right. Something happened, and I need... I need this deal, okay? I need you."

The words hung in the air between us, heavier than I'd intended, meaning more than I'd wanted them to.

"Now we're getting somewhere," he said softly, dangerously, and took a step closer.