Page 47 of A Heart On A Sleeve

twenty-seven

Olive

Am I in Love?

Am I in love with Sam O’Reilly? That’s the question plaguing my every waking moment since I left him in the shop yesterday. It’s showing up in my dreams too. I think it’s just a general state of being for me at this point. A simple question that I wish had a simple answer.

If I wasn’t walking around with my every thought and feeling displayed for all to see, I believe the answer would be a resounding and easy yes.

I’m indeed falling for him, head over heels.

But that’s not reality. The version that is true includes so many mixed-up feelings, between not knowing if I’m putting myself out there enough or too much.

Wondering if he likes the real me or the cooked-up version of me who’s brave and wears her heart on her sleeve.

The insecure side of me thinks maybe I don’t know him well enough to feel this strongly or that he only seems perfect for me because he can anticipate my needs with a quick glance at my arm.

Or maybe even that I was an easy target for Irina, that this is a fun experiment for her.

“Ugh!” I yell, throwing a pillow from across my bedroom as hard as I can. A cup of water tumbles from my dresser to the floor as the fluffy projectile accidentally knocks it over. Damn it!

I jump up from my position lounging on my bed and grab a towel from the clean laundry basket settled in the corner of my room. Mopping up my mess feels strangely on par with what needs to happen in my real life. I need to talk this out with someone who can help, someone unbiased.

My phone pings.

Sam

Mabel would like to know if you will be attending family dinner tonight?

Olive would like to know if Mabel’s son wants her there or if this is a pity invite.

Sam

Mabel said that her son is the one who insisted she invite you, and he doesn’t like talking in third person this way.

You started it.

Sam

There’s my girl. But seriously, will you come with me?

I have plans with Howie, but I would love to come. What time should I be ready?

Sam

What are you guys up to? Six.

Just having lunch. I’m hoping to discuss his love life. I’m thinking couples’ costumes could be a good tactic to push him and Ari together. Thoughts?

Sam

Well, since I know you won’t listen to a “don’t meddle” speech, go for it. What are we going as?

Yet to be determined. Was planning to ask you to go shopping on Wednesday so we could find something.

Sam

I’d follow you to the moon. See you at six, and be careful.

He’s such a sweetheart. I’d follow you to the moon .

No one says that. The guys I dated in college would groan at the thought of going shopping with me.

The ones at the country club would simply hand me a credit card and tell me to make sure I dressed to impress.

No one has actually ever cared for my wellbeing like Sam does.

But there’s no way it’s that simple, that he just wants to spend time with me however he can.

Checking the clock, I realize Howie will be here to pick me up in fifteen minutes.

I scurry about my room, selecting a cropped pair of denim pants, an army-green long-sleeve bodysuit, and gold jewelry.

It’s casual enough for lunch but acceptable enough to go to a family dinner.

I fluff my hair and grab my crossbody purse, coat, and boots while I wait by the front door.

Howie’s Bronco pulls up to the curb, and I don’t wait for him to get out. I cross the threshold, locking the door behind me, and skate down the porch steps to get in.

“Howie, how’s it going?” I ask, smiling at him as I slink into the front seat and buckle up.

“Eh, it’s okay for a Sunday. I had to break up a bar fight last night. It went super well.” He gestures to a freshly painted black eye blooming on his face.

“Oh no. Are you okay? Does Ariella know? Did they get arrested? Who was it?” I spit out a slew of questions.

“I’m fine, and why would she know or care?” he asks, putting the truck in drive and pulling away from the curb.

“Howie . . . come on. I’m not blind. I know there’s something going on between you two.” I turn in my seat so I’m facing him slightly.

“Olivia Bowman, you need glasses. There isn’t anything going on with us,” Howie adamantly denies.

“Ugh, fine. But does it help knowing I’m on your side, and I want there to be something going on?” I’m prying, but we need to get this out in the open.

Howie laughs but doesn’t answer me. I know I’m not the only person who can see the way they interact. It can’t be my imagination, but then again, I don’t have the best judgment right now.

“Where are you taking me? I don’t recognize this part of town.” I look out the windshield, noticing we took a turn onto a new road and appear to be traveling toward the ocean.

“My uncle doesn’t just own Union. He has a small seafood joint down in Bishop. I thought it would be a good change of pace, and I had a sense you wanted to talk to me about something you might not want people in town overhearing.” He gives me a lopsided grin and shrugs.

“Oh, what gave me away? Was it the text this morning that said ‘I desperately need advice,’ or was it the part where I said ‘no one else can know’?” I quip.

“Both.”

We laugh in unison before settling into a comfortable silence.

This is why I like Howie so much. He doesn’t push me to always fill the voids.

He’s okay with me sharing only what I’m comfortable with.

Ariella would never be that way, she needs every minute detail.

That’s precisely why I chose Howie and not my lovable bestie for this conversation.

Howie pulls the car into a small parking lot that ends at the edge of the beach.

We get out and shuffle into the restaurant.

It’s quaint with wood-paneled walls and nautical decor.

The windows are shaped like portholes, and after a few glasses of wine, I’m sure I’d believe I was inside an actual boat.

It smells like the ocean with fresh, whole fish displayed alongside a lobster tank at the host stand.

“I made a reservation for Howie,” he says to a cute girl with blonde hair and a bright orange BoatHouse T-shirt.

“Hi, Howie, come with me,” she coos. I can see the interest in her eyes, and my heart tumbles for Ariella. Howie is adorable. He has a secret hot body hidden under his clothes, and she is going to miss her chance if she doesn’t get on it soon.

“Is this table okay?” she asks, sizing me up as if to decide whether this is a date or not.

“It’s perfect. Thanks,” I reply, sliding into a wooden booth that has a compass etched into the table under a thin layer of polyurethane.

Howie slides into his side and pulls the menus from where they are tucked behind a condiment caddy, handing me one.

“That girl was into you, Howard,” I say before grasping the menu and opening it to browse.

“No, she wasn’t. I’m not the type that gets girls by walking into a restaurant. That would be Sam.” He shrugs and pulls open his menu for a second before closing it and laying it on the table.

“Well, that’s just what I wanted to hear today,” I groan.

“It’s the truth. Sorry, Ollie.” He shrugs again.

“We need to come up with another nickname. Ollie is what Ari calls me, and I hate it. How about just Olive?” I suggest.

“Nah, I like Ollie. It fits. But actually, don’t look at the menu. I’m ordering us sushi, it’s the best around. You do like sushi, right?” Howie asks.

“I love it, that sounds perfect.” I close my menu, and he places them back where they belong.

“Can I get you two something to drink?” a server whose name tag reads Harper asks.

“I’ll just have a Diet Coke, please,” I respond, while Howie orders a water and tells her we want the sushi platter. Harper jots our order down in her notebook and walks away.

“Okay, so what is the big thing you wanted to discuss?” He eyes me suspiciously, like he thinks I’m here to talk about my arm. I’m not. Well, not completely.

“I think I might be in love with Sam, but also I think what is going on with us might be completely fake given the circumstances,” I blurt out, covering my face with my hands. Harper delivers our drinks and quickly scurries away.

“And you thought I was the right person to discuss this with?” he questions.

“Well, I mean, yeah. You know us both, and you’re the only other person who’s met Irina. I thought maybe you could give me some advice or something to help me figure it out.”

“Look, Ollie, I’m not really qualified in the love department.

But I think Sam really cares for you. The day your parents came to town, he was an absolute mess wondering if you were ghosting him, and that was before he even knew they were visiting.

I get why you feel like you can’t trust anything right now.

I felt that way for a long time after meeting her, and I didn’t even get cursed.

You have to trust your instincts though.

You need to find a way to decipher what’s real from what’s not.

” Our server places down a gorgeous platter of sushi, briefly halting our conversation.

“How do I do that, though? I have spent so much time thinking about it, and I feel like the only way I will ever know fully is if I don’t have this thing on my arm.

I mean, I’m questioning everything. Each time I share something with him about myself, I have a tiny voice inside my head asking if I’m sharing it because I feel safe with him or because he can clearly see it anyway,” I explain.

I need someone to understand my hesitation here.

Without that understanding, I just look like a big scaredy-cat.

“Ollie, I don’t think you need me to tell you what to do.

I think your mind is already made up. The only problem now is that we don’t have a plan of how to find Irina so we can get rid of this thing.

” Howie brings some much-needed logic to the situation as he pops a piece of spicy tuna roll in his mouth.