Olivia's POV
The moment Maxwell and I settled into the back seat of his car, I went completely rigid.
Every muscle in my body locked up as I pressed myself against the door like I could somehow merge with it and disappear. I squeezed as far into the corner as physics would allow, trying to make myself as small and invisible as possible.
Stay still. Don't move. Don't let him get close enough to smell you.
Because if Maxwell had gone upstairs after breakfast- and I was certain he had - he'd spent time with those sheets. Probably pressed his face into them, trying to catch the scent of whoever had been in his bed. Trying to solve the mystery of his fuzzy memories.
And if he'd smelled me on those sheets, if he caught even a hint of that same scent now...
I'm screwed. Completely, utterly screwed.
"Oliver."
I stiffened even more, if that was possible. "Yes?"
