“I know. You’re right,” she replies, drawing me back to the present.
“Sharing a bed together will be no different. But if it makes you uncomfortable, I can sleep on the floor or find a couch to crash on.”
She nibbles on her thumbnail some more as she contemplates my words. I walk toward her and tug her hand away from her mouth.
“It’s just…”
I wait for her to continue. Her eyes search mine.
“I’ve never shared a bed with a man. Ever…” Her words trail off.
Olivia and I share almost everything with each other—our thoughts, our fears, our histories. Everything exceptthosetypes of relationship details. I never ask because I honestly don’t want to know.
The thought of her with someone else ignites fire within me. It’s irrational, maybe even unfair, but I feel it all the same. It burns in my chest and runs hot through my veins, like jealousy I don’t have the right to feel.
I feel it anyway.
“I trust you. There’s no need to sleep on the floor. We can share a bed for the weekend.”
“Are you sure?” I ask.
She nods, and the corners of her mouth twitch, a heartbeat away from smiling. “Yeah. I’m sure.”
“Come here,” I say after a moment of silence, and I tug her toward me until she’s pressed against my chest. I wrap my arms around her, rubbing small circles onto her back, and whisper into her hair, “Everything will be okay.”
She nods, pushing back so she can look up at me.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I admit, grinning down at her.
She gives me a shy smile. “Me too.”
It takes us about twenty minutes to get settled into our room. It’s ridiculous how much I love our things being mixed together, like they’ve always belonged in the same space. Her jacket draped over the chair. My bag beside hers. Toothbrushes lined up like a couple who actually planned this. Everything feels…right.
Her scent is already in the air, smelling like cream-cheese frosting and melted caramel. I catch myself leaning in on instinct, just to breathe her in. I step toward Olivia, closing the distance, and take her hand into mine. Her eyes widen as I intertwine our fingers together.
Ignoring her nervous energy, I lead her to the bedroom door and say over my shoulder, “Come on, we have some faking to do.”
We join my family for dinner, and by the grace of our good Lord, we are told that my dad is too tired to join us. The stress leaves me instantly, a heavy weight lifting away from my shoulders.
I introduce Olivia as my girlfriend to my Uncle Leo who goes into a long story that my cousin Jerrica rescues us from by requesting that Olivia and I help her with her luggage. Olivia sparks up a conversation with my cousin Sophie about how much longer she has in her pregnancy as I take her five-year-olddaughter, Emma, into my arms to give her a hug. Olivia’s gaze slides over to mine, sharing something soft and warm with me, smiling in the same way she does when she sees me and Annabelle together.
Nonni announces that dinner is ready, and everyone rushes to sit at her huge dining room table. Olivia lights up as she takes in the large spread of food laying before us. There are four different types of pasta dishes, lamb chops, and a rotisserie chicken. The sides are two large bowls of salad and different types of bread.
Olivia mouths ‘Wow’ to me before filling her plate. I grin in response, giving into my body’s instincts and leaning into her simply because I can. She’s looking at me, but I don’t have time to process what her facial expression means. I’m too caught up in the euphoria sweeping through me at the familiarity of everyone gathering together.
After we say grace, my family wastes no time diving into questions.
“So, how did you two meet?” Sophie asks, handing a piece of bread to Emma, who claps joyfully.
Olivia looks to me for some sort of confirmation.Should I go first?she silently asks. I nod.Go for it.
She returns her gaze to Sophie and replies, “We met in middle school when I punched Luke’s bully in the throat.” Olivia shrugs her shoulders, like it’s no big deal, and looks at me. “We’ve been friends ever since.”
It’s the true story of how we met, and I’m not sure why I expected her to make something up, but the way my family all turns and stares at her causes a laugh to burst from me.
“You sure know how to pick them,” Dani cackles before shoving a bite of salad into her mouth.
Everyone joins in the laughter, and I have to fight the urge to wrap my arm around my‘normally’untouchable best friend. The friend who once left a sticky note on a stranger’s windshield because their bumper sticker made her laugh, and shedidn’t want them to go unnoticed. The woman who made a special batch of peach muffins to give to my coworker Elliott after he lost his grandfather. The person who sings every word to “Shoop” by Salt-N-Pepa every single time we go to karaoke night.
