Olivia's POV
Levi didn't even flinch when I stepped closer. He just stared down at his glass, swirling what was left inside before taking another slow sip. I reached out quietly and took it from his hand. He didn't fight me. He didn't say a word.
"I think you've had enough," I said softly.
He let out a faint, humorless chuckle. "Since when did you start caring for me?"
I ignored the jab and set the glass down on the desk. "Since I realized we needed to talk."
At that, his eyes finally met mine—dark, heavy, guarded.
"Talk," he repeated flatly. "About what, Olivia? About how you think I'm jealous of my brother? About how you're scared I'd hurt him?"
His words stung. I could hear the bitterness under them, the pain he tried to bury behind that calm tone.
"No," I said quietly. "About us."
He frowned. "Us?"
"Yes," I said, stepping closer. "You and me. Levi, we've been avoiding each other like strangers when we both know we can't keep doing this."
