Olivia's POV
My head was resting on Maxwell's shoulder.
I didn't even realize I'd done it at first - just leaned into him naturally, like my body knew where it wanted to be even when my brain was still figuring things out.
By the time I became aware of the warmth of his body, the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the subtle scent of his cologne, it was too late to pull away without making it awkward.
So I stayed.
Told myself it was fine. We were friends now. Friends could sit close. Friends could offer comfort.
Except it didn't feel like friendship.
It felt like coming home.
And that terrified me.
Maxwell didn't say anything. Didn't move. Just sat there, perfectly still, like he was afraid any movement might spook me into pulling away.
I could feel the tension in his body though. The careful control. Like he was holding himself back from wrapping his arm around me, from pulling me closer, from turning this innocent contact into something more.
