I look over and see that we’re passing Ms. Johnson’s house, and once I see the bread gnome that Olivia made sitting in her yard, a burst of laughter escapes me. I lift my phone and grab a quick photo to send to her.
LIV
I hope you’re having a good day.
I miss you
I read the text messages she sent along with an image of her delicious Earl Grey-blackberry scones with lemon glaze that has my stomach growling in protest before I send her the photo and type a reply.
It’s been a good but busy day. I miss you more.
“There’s that stupid grin again.”
I shove Rick’s shoulder, the grin never leaving my face. “Shut it.”
“I’m happy for you,” he says once he parks the car in the station’s parking lot. He stays buckled in his seat and turns until he can face me. I stay in my place, waiting for him to say what he needs to say. “You said that you all haven’t made things official yet because there’s some things you need to talk about?”
I nod, waiting for him to continue, feeling the pit of mystomach twist with anticipation. Anytime the thoughts of what I need to tell Olivia pop into my head, I quickly shove them away to deal with later. I know it’s cowardly of me to want to avoid the whole subject, but we’re finally at a good place together. I’ve waited a decade for this second chance, and now that we’re shifting into more, I don’t want to mess it up.
However, my mistakes from the past always find a way to haunt me. If I learned anything from this weekend, it’s that letting go of the past is healing. And that's exactly what Olivia and I need in order to move forward together.
“Don’t delay. Talk with her as soon as you can. Trust me, the longer you wait to rip off that Band-aid, the longer it takes to heal.” He gives me a sympathetic smile, experience written in his expression, as he clasps down on my shoulder. “Now, let’s head in here and share with everyone what your father told you about his old gang. Let’s lock these men up once and for all.”
I give Rick a nod and follow him inside the station. As the day shifts from afternoon into evening, I know I have to tell her tonight. There’s an ache growing inside my chest that I can’t ignore any longer. Even if it ends up slicing through me, it needs to be done. I say a silent prayer for guidance and that Olivia will be able to find forgiveness in her heart for what I am about to admit to her.
Thin streaks of soft pinks and yellows paint the sky. The stars are shyly peeking through the clouds, and the moon’s pearly light shifts through the tree branches above Olivia’s house. I’ve been sitting in my car for the last fifteen minutes, watching the sunset, trying to gather the nerves to walk into her house and face her.
Eleven years.
Eleven years of secrets tucked behind inside jokes, and wordless conversations, and every time she’d fall asleep on my shoulder without even realizing she already had my heart. I’ve buried this secret and kept it to myself because of my shame and fears.
After this weekend—after we kissed and everything changed—burying it doesn’t feel possible anymore, and that scares me because what we’ve built togethercouldfall apart. What if she looks at me differently afterward? What if she pulls away from me? What if this fragile thing between us shatters before it even has the chance to become something real?
What’s worse than that—worse than losing the hope that has kept me going this weekend—is the thought of never telling her.
I run a palm down my jaw, and I finally force myself out of my car. I went home after work to replace my police uniform with a pair of dark jeans and an olive-green flannel shirt. I packed an overnight bag, just in case our conversation goes better than I’m expecting, before I headed this way.
I make my way up her steps, my breath clouding in front of me from the cold air, and as soon as I open the front door, I’m drowned in the scent of sweet and spice as the roar of Olivia’s music hits my ears. I shut the front door behind me and feel the air get sucked out from my lungs at the sight of her.
She’s absolutely stunning in her cream sweater and pair of jeans that have little pink and white flowers embroidered onto their back pockets and down the side. She has her hair pulled back with a pink ribbon that I want to reach out and give a slight pull to release her waves.
I can’t breathe. My nervous system is getting the best of me, but as Olivia glances up from a tray of what looks to be lemon bars, her smile cracks wide open, and suddenly I can breathe again. Something inside of me heats, expanding from my center and spreading through all the parts of me that were once cold before. I stop just outside the kitchen, reminding mylungs to continue breathing by inhaling air slowly through my nose.
“There you are,” she says, placing down her spoon before washing her hands in the sink.
Her green eyes look up at me, and a bolt of desire shoots down my spine. Being away from her today has messed with me. I rub the heel of my hand against my chest, attempting to put everything back where it belongs, because just the mere sight of her has completely unraveled me—knowing that, for now, she’s mine.
I want her. No. Ineedher. More than I ever have before.
“What is it?” she asks, drying her hands on a dish towel, her eyes never leaving mine.
“Every time you look at me with that smile, I just…” The words are caught in my throat.
She lifts a brow, her smile faltering, “You just what?”
All I want to do is rush to her and take her mouth with mine. I should probably ask her before I do, or I should use my brain andthink,because I came here with a mission, but all I’ve done today isthink,and I don’t want tothinkanymore, not when she’s within arm’s reach.
So I choose not to think. Instead, I move across the kitchen, closing the distance between us, and crash my mouth on to hers.
