Without thinking, I walk over to Delilah and take the phone from her, pressing it up to my own ear. “Olivia?”
“Bronx,” she says, her voice surprisingly breathless, desperate.
“Finch.” I close my eyes, soaking in the sound of her voice, relief washing over me. “Baby, I—”
“I know,” she cuts me off, tears in her voice. “I know. I just found out. Brennen told me.”
All the tightness in my chest evaporates and I feel like I can finally breathe easy again. “He did?” I ask, surprised.
“Yeah, he called me about thirty minutes ago. I’ve been trying to call you since then,” she informs me.
I furrow my brow, fishing my phone out of my back pocket to find it dead. After not charging it all night and all of Brennen’s previous calls and texts, I shouldn’t be surprised.
I curse under my breath. “I’m so sorry, my phone must have died. I’ve been everywhere looking for you.”
A choked laugh comes from the back of her throat through her tears. “I guess that’s why I’m talking to you on Delilah’s phone?” she asks with slight amusement.
“Yeah.” I unexpectedly laugh with her. “Your dad said you would either be here or at school. I stopped here first.”
“My dad?” she asks, the surprise evident in her voice.
I swallow thickly, nervous again. “Yeah, I stopped by your house again to see if you were home.”
There’s a pause before she replies, “I’m actually outside your dorm room. I thought you left for the break.” She whispers the last part.
I feel my heart squeeze in my chest, knowing we’ve been chasing after each other all along and that she thought I’d leave without resolving things.
“No, baby. No,” I assure her, wishing I was there right this second to hold her. “Stay right where you are, I’m on my way,” I promise.
Thirty-six
Everything
My heart nearly beats out of my chest when I spot Olivia, right where she said she’d be. She’s still in the same clothes from this morning, a pair of jeans with a dark-blue sweater, her ponytail swishing behind her as she paces in front of my door, nervously biting at the nail of her index finger.
Spinning around, she stops in her tracks as her eyes meet mine. Her shoulders drop, hands falling to her sides. She looks nervous, uncertain, but also relieved.
I take a step toward her, the feet between us feeling like miles. “Finch,” I breathe.
Tears mist her eyes as her bottom lip quivers. “Bronx,” she whispers, my name caught in her throat. “I’m sorry.”
I shake my head. “Don’t be sorry.”
I don’t need apologies. All I need is her.
From the look on her face, I know how sorry she is. How confused and hurt she was, thinking I purposefully ditched her and cheated on her. With all the evidence stacked against me, and my reputation, I know it was hard for her to believe me, but I always knew beneath the surface she clung to hope that I wasn’t that guy anymore. That I loved her.
But I don’t want to think about that any longer. Right now, all I want to do is hold her.
I extend my hand to her. “Come here.”
More than willing, she walks toward me, and I meet her halfway in three long strides, gathering her in my arms. I hold her tightly, her arms looping around my waist, holding me just as tight. Her soft vanilla scent engulfs me, soothing me, and I feel like I can breathe again.
Her body melts against mine, and I press my lips to the top of her head, savoring the feeling of her touch. When I lean back to look at her, those warm brown eyes are already looking up at me, full of longing.
Dipping my head, I press my lips to hers, kissing her softly, slowly. I take my time with her, loving the way her lips and body feel against mine. She must feel the same way, her hands sliding up my torso to my chest, one landing on my cheek while the other reaches the collar of my shirt, fingers curling inside, fisting the fabric and pulling me that much closer.
I let my tongue skim across her bottom lip and dip inside her mouth to sweep across her own, tasting her. She sighs in contentment but pulls away from the kiss, catching her breath.
