Series: Webs We Weave Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 162520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 813(@200wpm)___ 650(@250wpm)___ 542(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 813(@200wpm)___ 650(@250wpm)___ 542(@300wpm)
Jake rubs his palm against the back of his tensed neck. “I’m guessing rugs were a part of your Billionaire Bullshit School?”
Oliver blinks slowly, confusion crushing his face. “What?” He shifts the hairpin in his mouth with his tongue, then loosely holds his bent legs. It’s about the only casual movement he’s able to make.
Jake frowns from him to me, then back to him. “Hailey said you came up with that name. It’s what you call all your lessons over expensive brands and objects. So you knew which marks had real money…is that…not right?” He glances to me for confirmation.
I didn’t lie to him.
Oliver is just caught off guard. Olly won’t look at me, but I can see hurt pulsing against his brown eyes. “No, that’s right,” he tells Jake. “Did she also tell you why she chose the name Hailey?”
The question jolts me like whiplash. I know Oliver so deeply. Like a story I’ve read over and over and over since I was a little girl. Pages I’ve memorized. I can practically see his thought process, and my breath lodges in my lungs.
“It was a fake name for a job when she was six,” Jake says. “She kept it because she liked the little girl she was pretending to be. A bookworm who’d been placed in advanced classes.”
My pulse pounds in my ears. “Olly—”
“And Trevor? Did she tell you about his name?” Oliver asks.
Jake rubs at his lips, his hesitation landing on me.
I breathe out, “Don’t lie to him.”
Oliver bites a little harder on the hairpin. He still won’t meet my eyes.
“He’s the third child in the Tinrock family,” Jake says, still wary as he can see the emotion building in Oliver, too. “So, when he was little, he went by Tre for three. Then Trev…and finally Trevor.”
“Phoebe and Rocky?” Oliver asks him.
“They named each other. You named yourself after Oliver Twist, and Nova after a comic book character.”
“Everyone then,” Oliver murmurs. “She told you about everyone.” His expression fractures into a rushing cascade of emotions, most of them bordering on pain. Deep, deep hurt.
Carter spilled the origin of Oliver’s name first to Jake, and Oliver never cared. But me leaking information is different, because I once told Oliver I’d rather cut out my tongue than expose the truth behind our names.
Oliver swallows and tries to collect himself, but when he faces me, his gaze rummages through mine like he’s trying to make sense of this.
Nothing breaks Oliver Graves. Except me locked in a storm shelter.
And now, I’m terrified maybe this has, too.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
He lets go of his bent legs, just to sweep nonexistent dust particles off his kneecaps. It’s not helping him appear indifferent. Not when muscles strain against his neck, when his shoulders won’t unbind, when the normal sparkle in his eyes drowns in a dullness I hope to never see again.
It’s agonizing knowing I’m the cause.
“Olly,” I whisper, our backs to the bed.
He turns his head to mine. “I miscalculated…” His voice is tender, soft comfort. The opposite of his gaze. “I miscalculated what he means to you.”
My heart lurches. “B-but you knew I was talking to him?”
His eyes redden. “I didn’t know you were telling him our history. Our secrets.”
“She hasn’t told me everything.” Jake defends me, his stance full of warning. He’s telling Oliver not to get angry with me.
Oliver would never.
He glances up since Jake remains standing, and yet, there’s no power imbalance. Even on the floor, Oliver appears as tall as Jake. No puffed chests or mock display of male dominance. They’re both too comfortable in their skin to put on airs.
Oliver slips the hairpin out of his mouth. “You misread me, Koning. I wasn’t asking Hailey to take every secret of ours to the grave. I wouldn’t punish her for sharing cons we pulled, aliases we made, or even our deepest, darkest fears. I’m just shocked she found anyone, even you, worthy enough to know them at all.”
Jake nods slowly in realization. “You thought it was just sex.”
Oh God.
“But it is just sex,” I say, and their heads whip to me so fast that my pulse skyrockets. Confused lines crease both their faces. “It is. Jake, you’ve made it clear you can’t date anyone because Trent seeks out your girlfriends like a prize. Olly, you’ve never done relationships. And I would be a disaster at them. So, yes, it’s just sex. This isn’t serious.” My exhale comes out winded.
“Okay.” Oliver points the hairpin at me. “But I don’t typically talk to the guys you ‘just have sex’ with. No more than you make conversation with my flings. So, what’s this…?” He twirls his finger around the room.
“This is different,” Jake explains more to me than to Oliver since they seem to be finding the same track.
I’m the one off course.