Page 20 of The Shift Between Us (Covewood #2)

Chapter Nine

Olivia

L uke and I have been on the road to Indiana for two hours.

The warm and familiar voice of Cody Lee Meece , one of our favorite Kentucky musicians , comes through the speakers.

I’m just finishing the last bite of my brisket sandwich from our stop at Buc-ee’s when the music pulls me back to that night we snuck into a private barn party just to hear Cody play live.

I smile at the memory. Luke had slipped in a pile of horse manure and ended up rinsing off in the pond behind the building. A kind older gentleman lent him some clothes, and when Luke stepped out of the camper dressed like a backup banjo player, I laughed so hard I couldn’t breathe.

A quiet giggle slips out as Luke glances over. “What are you laughing at?”

“Just a memory.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Do you still have your cowboy outfit?”

He squints at me for a moment before returning his gaze to the road. His lip quips up, just for a moment, causing my smile to grow. “This song always takes you back to that night, doesn’t it?”

I laugh harder, snorting as I recall the details to him. Every so often he peers over at me, one side of his mouth hitching up into the faintest smirk.

“To answer your question, I donated those to Preloved Finds the second we got back to Covewood.”

“You did not. Those types of clothes were sacred to the old cowboys. He gave you suede leather pants, Luke. With fringe!”

The old man had paired those truly majestic pants with a black long-sleeve shirt that had pearlescent diamond snaps on it.

He had insisted that Luke keep the clothes, saying he had no need for them anymore.

I also saw everyone snickering behind Luke’s back, clearly poking fun at him.

It’s probably why they never kicked us out once they noticed we weren’t supposed to be there.

“What was I supposed to do with them? They were two sizes too big on me.”

“You were supposed to treat them like they were a trophy you won.”

There is silence between us for a moment before he looks over at me, his eyes landing on mine for a second, the dimple in his left cheek making an appearance, before he admits, “I kept the clothes. I couldn’t toss them. They were a souvenir for such a pivotal night in our friendship.”

I beam at his words, overly joyful that he did keep them after all and that they’re a special reminder to him about us. “We’ve had a lot of pivotal moments together,” I add, stretching my arms out.

An idea strikes me of something we can do to pass the last sixty minutes until we’re due at his grandmother’s house.

“How well do you think we know each other? Like, truly know each other."

His grin grows wider, stretching his five o'clock shadow. “Hmm. I’m pretty sure I know you better than you know me. ”

“No way!”

“I bet you five bucks that I do.”

“You’ll have to do a lot better than just five bucks,” I say, turning down the music.

“Okay.” He ponders for a moment, stroking his fingers over his jaw, the sandpaper-like sound filling the space. “Fifty bucks.”

“Luke, I don’t want your money.”

He grunts, knowing whatever I’m about to say is going to embarrass him. He would be correct in that assumption.

“I want you to wear the cowboy clothes. At the Christmas Eve parade. On the police float.”

“No.” He shakes his head and tightens his grip on the steering wheel. “Not happening.”

“Oh, come on. If you know me like you say you do, then you don’t have anything to worry about, right?” I arch an eyebrow in a challenge. Come on, Luke, take the bait .

His eyes snap to mine, studying me for a moment, before he accepts the challenge. “Fine, you’re on. But when I win, you have to…” He ponders for a moment, causing my grin to grow, because I love a good challenge. I don’t get embarrassed easily, and he knows it. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

“Challenge accepted.” I reach over and take his hand into mine, and his callused fingers are rough against my skin as we shake on it.

“How are we going to settle this?”

I perk up in my seat. “We’re going to play twenty questions.”

“How do I know you won’t cheat?” He raises a brow. “I know how bad you want to see me in those fringe pants again.”

I chuckle, shoving his shoulders lightly. “If you know me like you think you do, you’ll know it’s right.”

“Okay, fine, give me a question.”

I grab my purse and pull out a notebook and pen. I write down our names so I can keep track of our points. “Okay, what’s my go-to song that instantly puts me in a better mood? ”

“That’s not fair. You have, like, a thousand playlists depending on what mood you’re in. I could list some songs that are on your happy playlist, but narrowing it down to one isn’t easy.”

I smile, knowing I’ve already stumped him, before giving him my answer. “Yours is ‘Kiss’ by Prince.”

His face falls, and a laugh bursts out of me. “How could you possibly know that?”

“Because anytime it’s playing, you shimmy your hips to the beat and try to sing as high-pitched as you can to the lyrics.”

“Huh.” He pauses to stroke his chin. “Is that why you play it a lot?”

“Yeah, you always need a little mood booster after work. Plus, that high-pitched voice of yours is adorable.”

He looks over at me, a boyish grin lifting up his lips, making the deep dimple divot his left cheek. “Adorable, huh?”

“ So! The point goes to me,” I say, ignoring the zip of energy shooting through me at the sight of that dimple. I just want to reach out and poke it every time it appears but refrain from the urge.

“Not so fast. I haven’t answered yet,” he protests, and my brow rises, a silent challenge that vanishes the moment he answers, “‘Waterfalls’ by TLC, which is ironic because the lyrics are actually kinda sad.”

“It’s the nostalgia, not the lyrics, that lifts my mood.”

The soundtrack of my childhood was steeped in Mom’s and Wren’s love for late-‘90s and early-2000s music. It takes me back to afternoons in the kitchen—us girls baking, dancing around, the music turned up loud. I must have been five or six years old, but I still remember the joy that spread across their faces, pulling me into their rhythm, making me a part of it. It’s why I love throwback songs so much.

They feel like a warm hug from a lifelong friend.

It’s also why I can’t stand a quiet house.

When I first moved into mine, the silence was unbearable.

No singing in the kitchen. No laughter, no teasing, no voices filling the air.

Just stillness. It’s why I always keep something playing in the background—music, a podcast, anything to keep the quiet from creeping in.

“Okay, what movie always makes me cry? I know?—”

“ Up .” Luke’s face lights up as he interrupts me.

I groan. “I can’t help it. Why did they have to make it so sad in the beginning?"

“The fact that you’d rather watch cartoons is what’s sad.”

I lightly shove against his shoulders again, earning a laugh from him, and a smile takes over my face. “Yours is Here Comes the Boom.”

“You were crying with me when those kids started singing for Kevin James.”

We move into a fifteen-minute discussion about movies that have made us both cry until I pull up more questions on my phone, and we move through a generic list of them. Once we’ve reached the last question, we’re tied. Luke and I really do know everything about each other.

As best friends should, right? However, lately, what we have feels like something… more . A quiet shift, like something’s rearranging itself between us when we’re not looking.

I’ve always believed people can have soul mates who aren’t romantic.

Raine and I have said that about each other for years, but what I have with Luke is different.

It’s deeper, more layered. Raine and I have never needed to tiptoe around tension or dodge moments that feel like they might mean more if we let them.

Whatever this is with Luke, it’s complicated. It always has been. I just didn’t want to see it before and I’m not sure why I am starting to see it now.

“Is there anything I don’t know about you?” I ask, tossing my phone down into my lap and glancing at him.

I’m secretly wondering about what happened with Latasha the other night after trivia. He’s not spoken a word to me about her, and I didn’t want to bring her up. It wasn’t any of my business, honestly, but the not knowing has been secretly eating me up inside.

Luke looks away from me quickly, a wrinkle between his brows giving away that he has a secret. I decide to tell him something, hoping it’ll encourage him to open up to me.

“I went on a date with Zane and never told you about it.”

His head snaps my way, and his chocolate eyes widen, almost predatorily. “What?” he practically growls.

“Please don’t be mad.” I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Zane and I were tired of everyone telling us that we needed to date, so one night we decided to give it a try.”

He’s quiet for a moment, letting my confession settle in the uncomfortable silence between us.

“Everyone?”

“Yeah. Most people in town made a comment or two. Even my parents, my siblings—Ashton too—they were all encouraging,” I add, my brows knitting together.

“Why did you keep that from me?”

I stay quiet for a moment, not understanding why he would be so upset that I didn’t tell him, until it hits me that Luke values trust and honesty, and with me not telling him this, he could be taking it as a sign that I don’t trust him.

I do trust Luke, with everything, and now I feel like a horrible friend for keeping this from him. I’m not even sure why I was so worried about telling him. A small part of me always wondered if he might be jealous, but he’s proven to me time and time again that he isn’t.