Page 33 of The Shift Between Us (Covewood #2)

I think about it for a moment, running my hand against the roughness on my jaw, and exhale in defeat. I’m done with lying to myself, to my best friend, and I really could use his advice right now.

“You’re right.”

“Did I hear you correctly? Did you say I’m right? Can I have that written down on a signed document for proof?” He laughs, and I allow myself to smile since he can’t see me.

“You don’t have to be a jerk about it.”

He laughs again, and the sound of a door shutting and his truck’s engine starting tells me he has more privacy for this conversation, which I appreciate—until there’s a beep on my phone, telling me that he’s wanting to FaceTime.

I can’t stand FaceTiming someone—anyone but Olivia, anyway—but I answer, frowning at him as his face appears on the screen.

He smiles at me and places his phone down so he can turn his heat up. His breath comes out in puffs of clouds, and he slips his gloves off to hold them by the air vents. He looks up at me and nudges his chin at the phone, as if telling me to go on.

And so I do. “You and I both messed up that night.”

He sits back, watching me for a second, the memories of our graduation night reflecting behind his eyes.

I know that bringing up that night still bothers him, especially since Raine had shared with him what happened to her after they broke up.

If we could both go back in time and change our actions, we would in a heartbeat.

But we can’t. We have to live with our mistakes, and if anyone can understand how I’ve felt carrying this burden with me for the last eleven years, it’s Ryland .

“Yeah. We did. But we can’t change what happened that night. For all we know, it was meant to happen.”

“You can say that now because of where you’re at today. You have your girl. Things worked out for both of you. They never do for me.” I look away from the phone because seeing the pity written on his face sends a pang right into my chest.

“They won’t work out for you if you keep living in fear and avoiding the issues.”

I look back at the screen and take a seat on the bed.

“I had the opportunity to finally tell Olivia my true feelings, and then I blew it because of that fear. And I almost lost her friendship because of my dumb mistake. Had I shown up, had I thought we were worth trying for, things could be different between us.”

I exhale in frustration, defeat hanging heavy on my shoulders.

“It’s not that you didn’t think Olivia was worth it.

You didn’t think you were worth it. And you decided to hide, keeping yourself from something wonderful because you thought you didn’t deserve it.

I know that, back then, things were rough, and you weren’t making the best choices.

None of us were, but you have to understand that bad things are always going to happen in life.

People will hurt you. You can’t use that as an excuse to hurt someone back.

And in this case, you’re only hurting yourself. ”

My hair has to be a mess with how many times I’ve run my hands through it. I drop my hand, my body slouching with a sigh. “Olivia has built up walls over the years that I know she won’t let me climb over because she refuses to risk our friendship.”

“Then send the walls crashing down so you can finally get to her.” A small smile is revealed under his scruffy beard. “That wall is blocking her view of the future she could have with you. Knock it down and show her you deserve another chance.”

“You really think I can make her happy?” I ask, hating how weak my voice sounds .

“You already do.” Ryland is watching me silently, but he isn’t waiting for a response. He’s ensuring that I heard him loud and clear. “There’s a reason she suggested the two of you fake date each other. This is your trial run, a chance to redeem yourself.”

I nod, mulling over his words, feeling a sense of hope take hold of my heart. “Redeem.” I repeat the word out loud, nodding my head in agreement. “That seems to be the theme for this weekend.”

Ryland nods his head, understanding written in his expression, a hint of sadness shown in his eyes.

“Have you, uh… Have you talked with your dad since…” I don’t finish my sentence. I don’t have to. Ryland’s dad was a lot like mine. He had an addiction problem and was abusive to him. Ryland and I bonded as soon as we met because we understood each other’s trauma.

“No, I haven’t spoken to my father,” he states as he peers out of the truck window, a slight tick in his jaw.

“If given the opportunity, would you forgive your dad?”

He’s quiet for a moment, his eyes studying something outside, before he exhales and looks over at me. “I’d like to think that I would, especially if he’s made an effort to clean up his life. I’d try to forgive him.”

“Why?” The question leaves my lips before I can think twice about it.

He shrugs his shoulders. “Because I’ve made mistakes too. I might not have hit anyone?—”

“Did you forget that time you punched me in the face?” I smirk at him, cutting him off.

His shoulders move up and down as he laughs. “You won’t let me forget. And you know you deserved it at the time.”

I did deserve it and am not bothered by it anymore. I just like giving him a hard time about it.

“Anyway,” he says, raising his voice a little and with a smile on his face. We linger in conversation for a few more minutes, Ryland giving me some good advice, before we finally say goodbye.

I stay seated on the bed and say another prayer for God to help work on my heart. As soon as I’m finished, the bedroom door opens. Olivia enters the room with a joyful smile that vanishes the moment her eyes land on mine.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, rushing over to me, dropping whatever she was holding in her hands down onto the bed to take my hands into hers.

“Nothing is wrong,” I tell her with a reassuring smile.

She eyes me for a second before nodding her head and saying, “Okay. But if there was something wrong, you’d tell me, right?”

“Like how you told Raine we were fake dating?”

Her eyes widen, and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. “I did,” she answers.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you told her?” I ask as she looks down bashfully, hints of pink appearing on the tips of her cheekbones and over the curves of her ears.

“I didn’t want you to be upset,” she admits, shrugging her shoulders.

“Why would I have been upset?”

“I don’t know. I guess because she might tease us both about it when we get back home or something.” She shrugs her shoulders.

“I’m not upset. I don’t care that she knows,” I assure her, squeezing her hands, realizing that we’re alone, and it’s been over three seconds, and she’s still holding onto me. Small progress is still progress, and I’ll take anything I can get.

I look down at the bed to see what she brought with her.

“Please don’t tell me those are our ugly sweaters.”

The way her face lights up like a Christmas tree, it’s hard to dread this horrid tradition. If it makes her this happy, I’ll put up with it but not without complaining a bit. She grabs one of the sweaters, holding it up, and I groan .

This one has a scene from Jurassic Park but with Santa sitting on the toilet and a T-rex hovering over him. “This is yours.”

“Of course it is.”

“And this one is mine.” She holds up the second sweater, which has three kittens on it, each wearing Santa hats under a large full moon. She giggles as she sees my expression. “This is the best Christmas ever.”

“I’m glad you think so,” I add, because I couldn’t agree more.

Everyone is gathered in front of the Christmas tree again as Nonni puts us all into our places, and I stiffen the moment she wheels my dad near Olivia and me.

She places him right in front of us. He turns around, looking up at me, a small smile spreading on his face, making him look like a stranger.

“Hey, Luke.”

I grunt in response, nodding my head toward him in greeting, keeping my eyes on everyone except the man who helped create me.

I turn to Olivia and catch her already watching me before wrapping her right arm around my waist, tugging me to her.

She places her left hand onto my shoulder and lifts up onto her tippy toes to plant a kiss on my cheek.

Feeling her lips on my skin warms me from the inside out. Heat travels up my cheek, flows down my throat, and spreads to my icy heart. She’s thawing me.

She looks at my dad, places a hand onto his shoulder, and gives him a heartwarming smile.

A smile that says I’m glad you’re here .

I can’t say that I feel the same, because a part of me wants to get out of this room.

But there’s another part of me that’s keeping my feet planted, right where I know I’m supposed to be.

“I always knew you two would end up together,” he adds, his smile revealing yellow-stained teeth.

I glance at Olivia, who’s grinning at my dad. “Yeah, I think we both did too.”

I try not to read too much into what she said, even if it's causing hope to start to spread through me. I should’ve considered that it might be harder to pretend with her, to have her in all the ways that I’ve only dreamt of, only for everything from this weekend to possibly be fake.

However, I’m determined to do exactly what Ryland said. I will break down her walls and reveal to her that we can be happy together, as two people in love instead of just best friends. We can be both.

I peer down at her as she flashes me a questioning look, her eyebrow raised, silently asking if I’m alright. There’s understanding within her gaze, and I give her a grin, nodding my head to tell her I’m okay.

She snuggles closer into me as I wrap an arm around her waist. Once prompted, we all smile, shouting ‘Merry Christmas,’ and are blinded for a few seconds by the bright flash of a camera. We take a few photos, and once we’re finished, my dad twists his wheelchair around until he’s facing us.

“Can we chat?” he asks me.

I part my lips to reply, but we’re interrupted by my grandmother announcing that the cookies are ready for decorating and for all of us to get changed out of our sweaters. I’m grateful for the excuse to get this itchy thing off of me and to avoid the much-needed conversation for a bit longer.

“We can later,” I say, not missing the way his shoulders fall in disappointment.

Olivia grabs my hand and tugs me toward our bedroom. Once the door is shut, I reach down to tug this awful sweater off my body, but Olivia stops me.

“No wait! We have to take a selfie.” She grabs her phone and rushes to me, lifting her phone up, and snaps a few photos of us.

I make a funny face, loving when she shoves my chest lightly, laughing as she demands a good photo. Afterward, I bend down and plant a kiss to her cheek and don’t move until I hear the sound of a click. As I move back, Olivia’s head shoots up, eyes wide as she stares up at me.

I shrug my shoulders. “What? A guy is allowed to kiss his girlfriend on the cheek.”

Before she can respond, I tug the itchy material over my head and toss the ugly sweater at her. It falls to the floor, and she freezes in place, my bare chest exposed. Her expression softens into something vulnerable as she studies me, her eyes feeling like a caress.

My mouth twitches into a smirk, her eyes tracking the movement. Olivia clears her throat, averting her eyes, and turns to rush into the bathroom. “I’ll meet you out there!” she shouts over her shoulder before shutting the door behind her.