His Dangerous Love On Ice

Chapter 1: OLIVE's POV

I had three client presentations due tomorrow and a marketing strategy that was nowhere near finished, but all I could think about was Cole coming home in two weeks.

It had been two months since I'd seen him in person. Two months of video calls and texts that came later and later each night.

Grayson would tell me I was overthinking again. My stepfather had been the steady one since Mom remarried ten years ago—the kind of dad who actually showed up, who remembered what mattered.

I pulled my laptop onto the bed, staring at the half-finished campaign for Hopkins Company.

Pathetic.

I shoved the laptop aside and reached for my nightstand drawer.

The feeling of having my vibe pressed right where I needed it, imagining Cole in his blue practice jersey, hair slicked back, hands braced on the headboard above me…

Close. So close.

The door slammed open.

My mother stood in the doorway like she hadn't just walked in on something she definitely shouldn't have seen. When I scrambled to sit up, tangled in my sheets and trying to shove the vibe under my pillow, she smiled.

Actually smiled.

"Oh darling, I'm so sorry I interrupted. But playtime's over."

"God, Mom, knocking is a thing adults do." My face was on fire. I shoved the vibe into my nightstand drawer so fast I almost broke my finger.

"Your door was wide open, Olive. Be grateful it was me and not Hunter."

God, if my stepbrother had walked in on that I'd have to move to another state.

"Mom, stop. Please just stop talking."

She pressed her lips together, but amusement danced in her eyes. I wanted to die right there.

Living in the renovated space above the garage was supposed to give me independence, but it didn't stop my mother from barging in whenever she felt like it. Still, it beat paying two grand a month for some shoebox apartment in Seattle.

"We need to talk to you." Her voice changed, got serious. "Grayson and I have some exciting news."

Exciting news in this family usually meant something that benefited everyone except me.

"Olive Monroe, I want you downstairs in five minutes or I'm dragging you out of that bed myself."

The second the door closed I grabbed my phone. I needed to hear Cole's voice, needed something good to balance out whatever disaster my parents were about to drop on me.

I hit his contact. One ring. Two rings. Three.

Cole always answered. Always picked up when I called.

The screen flickered—video call accepted—and suddenly I was staring at a shaking camera propped up on something, angled weird.

I could see him.

Cole.

Not alone.

"Oh god, yes—Cole, right there—"

A woman's voice hit me first, high-pitched and breathless. For a second my brain couldn't process what I was seeing.

Cole on his back, head thrown against the pillow, mouth open as he groaned. A girl on top of him, blonde hair spilling