CHAPTER 157: CHAPTER 157

Back to the present

Olivia’s POV

I closed my eyes tightly, holding on to Maxwell’s neck in a death grip as the sensation of falling overwhelmed me. My stomach lurched, my heart stopped, and for one terrifying moment, I was quite certain I was going to die.

This is it. This is how I go. Electrocuted and then splattered on Maxwell Wellington’s office floor.

But somehow, I hadn’t hit the ground. I wasn’t broken, or bleeding. I was... caught.

His strong arms had wrapped around me mid-fall, one under my knees, one supporting my back. I was cradled against his solid chest, held securely, completely safe.

I opened my eyes slowly, my heart still hammering, my breathing coming in short, panicked gasps.

Maxwell’s face was inches from mine.

He’d caught me. Actually caught me, like some kind of ridiculous romance novel hero. I could also feel his heart pounding beneath my cheek.

The fact that he’d caught me, sent a flood of emotions through me that I couldn’t begin to process. Relief - obviously, because I wasn’t dead. Shock - because Maxwell had moved so fast I hadn’t even seen him leave his chair. Confusion - because why did being in his arms feel so... right?

And underneath all of that, something warm and dangerous was blooming in my chest.

I was aware of every point where our bodies touched. His arm under my knees, his hand spread across my back, my face pressed against his shoulder. The scent of his cologne filling my lungs with each breath I took.

Stop it. Stop noticing how good this feels. Stop thinking about how strong his arms are, how safe you feel right now, how his heartbeat sounds against your ear.

We stayed like that as if time had stopped completely. Neither of us moving, neither of us speaking. Just frozen in this moment, staring at each other.

Maxwell’s eyes were dark and intense, searching my face like he was looking for something. His jaw was tight, a muscle twitching there like he was restraining himself from something.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly, his voice low and rough in a way that made something flutter in my stomach.

"Yes," I whispered, unable to look away from his eyes. "I’m... I’m okay."

Liar. You’re not okay. You’re the opposite of okay. You’re in your boss’s arms feeling things you shouldn’t be feeling.

Maxwell’s gaze dropped to my lips. Just for a second, but I saw it. Felt it like a touch.

And then he was staring down at me with such heat, such intensity, that I forgot how to breathe.

He wants to kiss me. Oh my God, he wants to kiss me again. As Oliver!

My anger from moments ago regarding the light bulb and the broken glass evaporated into thin air.

Right now, i didn’t know what I felt anymore. But it was hot and desperate and terrifying.

I just wanted him to kiss me.

The thought should have horrified me. Should have sent me scrambling out of his arms in panic.

Instead, I found myself waiting. Bracing. Anticipating the moment his lips would touch mine, remembering how they’d felt in the car, how he’d tasted, how completely he’d consumed me.

But Maxwell seemed to be taking forever. Just staring at me with those dark, hungry eyes, making no move to close the distance between us.

Fine. If he won’t do it, I will.

I started lifting my face toward his, my eyes already fluttering closed, my lips parting slightly in invitation.

Closer. Closer. Just inches away now. I could feel his breath on my face, could feel the tension in his arms as he held me...

Toilet water.

The memory slammed into me just then.

His mouth. That mouth that’s about to kiss me had drank toilet water yesterday.

Horror replaced desire in an instant. My eyes flew open, and I jerked backward so suddenly and violently that Maxwell - who’d been leaning down to meet me - lost his balance.

His arms loosened their grip.

And I fell.

Again.

This time, there was no heroic catch. Just my ass hitting the hardwood floor with a painful, humiliating smack that echoed through the office.

"OW!" I groaned, my hand immediately going to my abused backside. "Ow, ow, ow!"

Pain radiated up my spine. My tailbone felt like it had been split in two. I was definitely going to have a bruise. Possibly several bruises.

This is karma. This is what you get for putting toilet water in someone’s drinking bottle, and then try to kiss him the next day.

"What," Maxwell asked, his voice strained and slightly breathless as he looked down at me sprawled on his floor, "were you about to do just then?"

"Huh?" I blinked up at him innocently, still rubbing my sore ass.

"You were trying to kiss me," he said, and there was something in his expression that looked like accusation and disappointment at the same time.

I scoffed, trying to inject indignation into my voice. "I was not!"

"You were. You were lifting your face, closing your eyes..."

"I was just..." I searched my head for an excuse. "I was just trying to get a better angle to... to see if you were going to drop me or not!"

"That doesn’t even make sense."

"Well, your face doesn’t make sense!" I shot back, which was possibly the worst comeback in the history of comebacks.

I started trying to stand up, my ass still throbbing with pain, muttering under my breath, "Why would I want to kiss your toilet mouth anyway?"

"What?" Maxwell’s voice was sharp.

"Nothing!" I said quickly, finally managing to get to my feet. "I said nothing. And I wasn’t trying to kiss you. That’s ridiculous. I’m a straight guy, remember? And even if I was into guys, you wouldn’t be my type."

Maxwell was studying me with an expression I couldn’t read. "I’m quite certain you were about to kiss me, Mr. Hopton."

"Well, you’re wrong," I said firmly, then - because I was determined to make this situation less awkward - I started climbing back up onto his desk.

"What are you doing?" Maxwell’s voice rose. "Oliver, stop..."

"I’m going to fix your bulb," I announced, already hoisting myself up onto the desk surface.

"Oliver, no. Come down. I’ll call maintenance..."

"No need." I was already climbing onto the stool, my stupid pride refusing to let me back down now. "You told me to fix it, so I’m fixing it!"

This is stupid. This is so incredibly stupid. You just got shocked. You just fell. You should not be doing this.

But I couldn’t stop. My pride wouldn’t let me admit defeat. Wouldn’t let Maxwell win. Wouldn’t let him think I was weak or incompetent or incapable of completing a simple task.

Even if that task involved live electrical wiring that I knew nothing about.

"Oliver!" Maxwell’s voice was commanding now. "Get down from there. Now. That’s an order."

"Almost got it!" I lied, reaching up toward the fixture again, my hand hovering near the wires.

"OLIVER!"

I touched the wire.

The shock was worse this time. So much worse. Electricity coursed through my body like lightning, every muscle seizing, every nerve screaming. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything except feel the violent current tearing through me.

I heard myself make a sound, and then everything went dark.

The last thing I felt was falling again, but this time, there were no arms to catch me.

Just darkness.

And silence.

And the distant sound of Maxwell’s voice, urgent and terrified, calling a name I couldn’t quite remember.

Then nothing at all.