His Dangerous Love On Ice Chapter 189: Olive's Pov

I followed the sound of Paloma's voice around the corner, my heart rate picking up because there was something about her tone, something sharp and defensive and almost scared, that made alarm bells go off in my head.

When I finally spotted her, she was standing near the back exit of the VIP section, partially hidden in shadows, facing someone I couldn't quite see from this angle.

But what I could see was her body language, arms crossed tight across her chest, shoulders tense, her entire posture screaming that she wanted to be anywhere but here having this conversation.

"Paloma?" I called out, moving closer. "Is everything alright?"

She turned at the sound of my voice and I saw her face freeze for a brief second before relief flashed across her features, quickly replaced by something more complicated, maybe embarrassment, maybe fear, I couldn't quite tell.

"Olive," she said, her voice coming out strained. "Yeah, everything's fine. I was just—"

"Paloma and I were having a private conversation," a male voice interrupted, and the person she'd been talking to stepped forward into the better lighting.

I felt my breath catch when I saw his face.

Alonso.

The same man I'd literally run into at Hunter's party weeks ago, the one with those mesmerizing silver eyes that had made my stomach flip despite knowing I shouldn't be looking at anyone that way when I was with Zane, the one who'd touched my chin with that bold confidence that had left me slightly breathless even though I'd tried to pretend it hadn't affected me.

And he was here, at this club, arguing with Paloma like they knew each other.

Like they knew each other well.

"Alonso?" I said, my voice coming out more shocked than I intended, and I couldn't help the way my eyes swept over him automatically, he looked just as good as I remembered, maybe better in the club lighting, all dark clothes and confident posture and that particular energy that made it hard to look away.

His eyes met mine and something flickered in his expression, recognition, definitely, and maybe surprise, or perhaps something else I couldn't quite read.

"Olive," he said, my name rolling off his tongue in that accent that made it sound more exotic than it actually was. "I didn't expect to see you here. Small world."

"You guys know each other?" Paloma asked, looking between us with confusion written all over her face, though there was something else there too, something in her posture that still screamed discomfort despite her attempt to sound casual.

"We met briefly," I said, forcing myself to focus on Paloma instead of the way Alonso was looking at me. "At my step brother’s party a few weeks ago."

"Briefly," Alonso repeated, and there was something in the way he said it that made it sound like our encounter had been more significant than I was letting on. "Though I remember it quite well. You made quite an impression, Peach."

The nickname made my cheeks flush because I remembered how Zane had reacted when Alonso had called me that, how possessive he'd gotten, how he'd practically staked his claim on me right there in front of everyone.

"That's—that's not my name," I said, stumbling over the words because Alonso was still watching me with those eyes that made my brain go slightly fuzzy. "My friends call me Olive."

"And what do people who want to be more than friends call you?" Alonso asked, and there was definitely flirtation in his voice now, bold and unapologetic in a way that should have annoyed me but instead just made my heart rate spike.

I turned my attention deliberately back to Paloma, noting how she was standing slightly away from Alonso, how her arms were still crossed defensively, how her eyes kept darting between me and Alonso like she was trying to figure something out.

"Paloma, are you okay?" I asked directly, because whatever was happening between me and Alonso's weird magnetic pull could wait—my friend clearly needed help. "You look upset. Do you need to leave?"

"She's fine," Alonso said, and his hand came up to touch Paloma's arm in what was probably meant to look like a casual gesture but made Paloma visibly flinch.

And that flinch…that visible recoil from his touch…cut through whatever haze Alonso's presence had created in my head, snapping me back to reality and making me actually see what was happening here.

"I wasn't asking you," I said, my voice getting firmer as I stepped closer to Paloma. "Paloma, do you want him here? Because if you don't, we can handle this."

There was a beat of heavy silence before Alonso's expression shifted slightly, something darker flickering beneath the charming exterior.

"Paloma and I are having a private conversation about our relationship," he said, his voice still smooth but with an edge to it now. "This doesn't really concern you, Olive."

"If my friend is uncomfortable, it concerns me," I said, positioning myself so I was partially between them even though every instinct I had was hyperaware of how close Alonso was now, how I could smell his cologne—different from Zane's, something woodsier and more intense.

"Olive, it's okay," Paloma said quietly, but her voice was shaking. "Alonso and I were just talking. About old times."

"We're not talking about old times," Alonso corrected, his eyes still on me even though he was talking to Paloma. "We're talking about the fact that she keeps pretending we're over when we both know we're just taking a break."

"We're not taking a break," Paloma said, her voice getting stronger now. "We broke up, Alonso. Almost two months ago. I told you to stop calling me, stop showing up places, stop pretending like we have some future together."

"Baby, you don't mean that," Alonso said, taking a step toward Paloma.

"Don't call me that," Paloma snapped, backing up. "And yes, I mean it. We're done. You need to accept that and move on."

I watched this exchange with growing understanding, because it was becoming very clear very quickly that this wasn't just some awkward ex-boyfriend run-in—this was Paloma trying to establish boundaries with someone who refused to respect them.

And that changed everything about how I was seeing this situation, changed how I was seeing Alonso despite the way he'd made me feel at that party, despite the attraction I couldn't quite deny.