Page 39 of Olivia’s Only Pretending (Sweet River #3)
Twenty-Eight
I followed the path Victor took down the sidewalk, finding him standing by my favorite tree. The evening sky was a navy blue around him. His form was softened by the glow of the streetlamps. His back was to me, his hands in his jeans pockets. He’d taken off his jacket, thrown it off to the side.
With my steps closing the distance between us, I was breathless. My hands shook from an emotional overload. But I wasn’t going to hold back anymore.
His shoulders were visibly tense as I touched his back. “Victor.”
He turned to me, his eyes full of hurt, and it felt like a punch to my gut. “I’m sorry we were interrupted,” I said. “I didn’t expect him to show up like that.”
He shook his head. “Is that why you wanted to take a break from me? Has being around Ryan,” he spat out his name, “brought up old feelings, and you were afraid to tell me?”
“What?” I nearly laughed at the idea. Having Ryan on campus had only shown me how much I’d moved on. I’d underestimated myself and how far I’d come.
If my history with Ryan left a permanent mark on my heart, reminding me what I’d never settle for again, these past few weeks with Victor were a blazing revelation of just how happy, how seen, how deeply cared for I could be.
“Maybe it sounds crazy to ask that.” He shoved his hand through his dark, wavy hair. “But are you torn between us or something?” He looked away.
“Absolutely not, Victor Hernandez,” I said firmly. I stepped closer to him, pulling on his gray button-down. He’d dressed up for the conference, probably for me . “I haven’t had feelings for Ryan in years. I only have feelings for you .”
His eyes shot to mine right after my confession. He blinked like he wasn’t sure he’d heard me right. “Feelings … for me?”
I nodded.
Something in him softened, like my words melted some of the tension in his shoulders. He exhaled. “I just hate seeing you with him. How he looks at you. It made me wonder if this was part of why you needed space. Maybe I didn’t know the full story like I thought I did.”
This pinched at my heart. I blinked back tears. “You want to know what I feel about Ryan? Relief that I didn’t wind up stuck settling for him and missing out on everything good that was waiting for me.” Missing out on you, on us.
“I’ve been stewing over here, so angry at your dumb ex. Angry at myself for how much I’ve been missing you.” He let out a rattled breath. He looked down, his voice low. “I need to calm down.”
Then his eyes met mine again. “It’s been hard not hearing from you.”
“It’s been hard for me, too.” This week had been a grueling lesson in the depth of my feelings for him. “Harder than you probably realize.”
A couple of students screamed with laughter a few steps away.
“Come on, Liv.” He licked his lips, jaw clenched. “It’s been agony for me for months . You know, I’ve wanted you all this time. I’ve always wanted you.”
“I knew you had a crush,” I offered feebly, with my palms raised.
The crush was evident in the way his eyes lingered, the little gifts, the blurriness around the edges of our friendship. Maybe it was another safer label I taped up.
Victor’s eyes would find me across a room, eyes soft on me, and I would think, It’s just a crush.
Victor would switch my light bulbs and tinker with my leaky faucet, and my sisters would shake their heads when I told them, and I would say, Fine, maybe he has a little crush. But we’re just friends.
I would wake up in the morning, my first thought would be about him and his stormy, dark eyes, and I would tell myself, It’s okay, you just have a little crush, too.
“Crush?” He laughed, running a hand down his face. “It was always so much more than a crush. There’s no comparison. Crush was watering it down to make it easier to swallow. Nothing about how I feel about you, from the moment I saw you, has been small.”
My heart was beating out of my chest. My hands wanted to grab hold of him, pull him against me, but I needed to finally, finally, finally get this all out in the open. To tell him exactly what I wanted.
“I see that now,” I said. “Maybe I was afraid to see it before, but I do now. I see what’s between us—what’s always been there.”
He grabbed my wrists, drawing me closer until our lips were a breath apart. “Do you feel it now, too?” he asked in a low murmur.
I nodded, looking up into his eyes. His gaze pinned on mine.
“Oh, I feel it. How I feel about you—how badly I want this—has lodged itself in my head.” I laced my fingers through his. “I think, even though I was in denial, I felt it all along, too.”
“I don’t care how long it took you to get here,” he said, pressing his forehead to mine.
The night was cold, but my body was radiating with warmth, his heat.
“As long as you’re here now.”
“I’m here now.” I could smell his spicy cologne mingling with the scent of crisp leaves swirling around us. “I’m terrified and giddy and crazy about you—and finally here.”
“I want to try this thing for real.” His voice was a rasp I felt all the way down to my toes. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want to try this for real, too,” I said, light, breathless.
“You whispered that.” He dragged my wrists around his neck, lacing them over his shoulder.
I could grab his hair if I wanted.
“Say it again.”
My heart thundered in my chest. “I want to try this for real,” I said louder.
He growled in response, warm in my ear. He kissed my neck, leaving a trail of kisses up to my lips.
My stomach somersaulted.
He kissed me hard like a wave crashing to shore, intent on pulling me under with him. I was lost in him.
My fingers dragged through his hair down his neck, his hands on my hips pressing me flat against him, like I couldn’t be close enough.
I’d finally let my feelings free, saying exactly what I wanted aloud, unraveling the tight stitches I’d sewn over my vulnerabilities and needs long ago with each word.
I ran my hands down the backs of his arms, feeling the muscles I used to watch him flex while he built things in my backyard under my hands.
“Pauses.” He kissed under my ear, goose bumps everywhere. “Are.” He kissed my jawline. “Stupid.” He found my mouth again.