* * *
“I thinkenemies-to-lovers is my favorite trope,” Olivia announced, as the credits rolled on yet another rom-com.
I smiled down at her, snuggled in my arms. “I’m still partial to fake-dating.”
I glanced up at the yellow-and-white flower clock on Olivia’s living room wall and my chest constricted so hard it squeezed the air out of my lungs. How the hell was it Sunday afternoon?
Despite my best intentions, we’d ended up having a movie marathon yesterday, followed by what could only be described as a sex marathon, and then today we’d managed to fill the morning with lazing in bed before finally getting up and watching another movie. Every time I vowed I was about to leave, I’d end up staying, tumbling back into bed with Olivia or lazing on her couch, chatting or watching movies.
Magnetic attraction. That was what it felt like. An irresistible pull toward Olivia that I couldn’t shake. She was so warm, funny and gorgeous. And I couldn’t get enough of her body. Alarm bells rang in my ears. I’d only felt like this once before in my life, and it had ended with me devastated and alone.
“One more?” Olivia asked, grabbing the remote. “I know it’s not the right time of year, but have you seenHappiest Season?” She looked at my blank face and rolled her eyes. “Of course you haven’t. What was I thinking? Well, it’s a lesbian holiday rom-com. Kristen Stewart is in it. Her character actually reminds me of a younger, shorter version of you. Blond, a penchant for suits, a dry sense of humor.” Her eyes twinkled.
“She sounds like the perfect woman.” While my lips twitched, a string tugged at my chest. This felt so domestic, so intimate and cozy. I didn’t know what Olivia was looking for, but I was starting to suspect it was more than just a one-off weekend of sex and movie watching. And anything more than that was more than I could give her. I swallowed. “But I should head off.”
“You’re welcome to stay for dinner, if you want,” Olivia said, pulling her head off my shoulder and looking up at me. “No pressure, though.”
I steeled myself. I couldn’t let myself get carried away again. An image of Sadie flashed into my mind: her sitting on the other end of our couch in Manhattan, refusing to engage with me after some minor failing on my part.
I had to leave now, before I got even more entangled. It wasn’t just my heart and my mental health on the line this time. The farm was at a critical point. I needed to have all my time and energy focused on ensuring its success, not getting swept up in another intense relationship that would crash and burn.
I leaped to my feet. This time, I was really leaving. “Thank you. It’s very tempting, but I’d better go.”
“Okay.” Olivia stood, running a slender hand through her hair.
Not trusting myself to stick to my resolve if I lingered for too long, I strode into Olivia’s room and changed back into the clothes I’d been wearing Friday night, shoving my phone in my pants pocket and returning to the hallway.
Olivia walked me to the door. My gaze dropped to her lips. Warning sirens blared in my ear.Get out now.I grabbed the door handle.
I smiled, my face tight, barely able to meet her gaze in case I got pulled back in. “Thank you for the wonderful weekend.”
And with that, I bolted.
CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN
OLIVIA
Roz jogged down the stairs.I pressed the door shut, leaning against it for a moment, unease swirling in my stomach. What had just happened?
I trudged to the kitchen and switched the kettle on. I must have misread the signs. It had been stupid of me, thinking that the last forty-eight hours might have been more than a one-off weekend of mind-blowing sex. I grabbed my sunflower mug from the cupboard and leaned against the counter, staring blankly at the kettle as it began to tremble. Roz made it very clear the first night we met that she didn’t date. I chewed on my lip. She’d been so warm and affectionate this weekend, such an entertaining rom-com watching companion, that I’d foolishly let myself imagine what it would be like if we were actually together. Cozying up on the couch for pizza and movie nights, enjoying coffee together on the back deck every morning, raising kids on the farm… A pang vibrated through my chest. I’d gotten way ahead of myself there.Roz doesn’t want that.
I dropped a tea bag in my mug and poured the water on top. I finally understood the U-Haul jokes about lesbians. I hadn’t wanted Roz to leave. God, I was pathetic.
I grabbed my phone from the charging station on the kitchen counter, and returned to the couch, sitting down and drawing the throw blanket over me. It was no substitute for Roz’s warm body. I pulled it up to my neck. The house felt very quiet. The falling rain, which had been delightfully cozy when I was snuggling with Roz on the couch, suddenly seemed gloomy. I pulled out my phone, ready to do some mindless scrolling.
The photo of Roz on my phone wallpaper stared back at me. Another pang hit me, harder this time. Even with her mouth pulled into a half grimace, half smile, she looked stunning. It was hard to believe it had only been just over two weeks ago that I’d snapped it in Sapphire Blooms.
My stomach dropped as I paid attention to the notifications on the screen. Shit. I’d been so consumed with Roz I hadn’t looked at it since breakfast.
A message from Jenny.
“Hey! Just checking in that everything’s okay for the wedding on Friday? I know you mentioned there were a few issues with the flowers.
My chest constricted. I’d planned to finalize the new plan for the politician’s wedding, taking into account the flowers damaged by the aphids and cows, yesterday. Needless to say, I’d made absolutely no progress on that front.
There was also a text from Mom.
Are you coming to lunch? Dave, Rach and the kids are here.
