Page 36 of The Shift Between Us (Covewood #2)

Chapter Seventeen

Luke

O livia stirs beside me, her face pressed against my arm, and I’m sure that I’ll never be able to get used to this.

I’ve been awake for a while, mainly because the arm that’s currently under Olivia’s face has fallen asleep.

I’ve been studying the slope of her nose, the freckles that dust along her cheekbones and tops of her shoulders, the stream of drool dripping down her lips.

Having her like this feels perfect. A dream come true. If my arm wasn’t tingling in pain, I would think I was still asleep. My arm is saved by the bell—and by bell, I mean the sounds of Olivia’s alarm. I chuckle as she scowls and slaps her phone until the noise stops.

I reach over and tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, loving how the auburn strands take up most of our pillow space. She stirs again, this time grunting and stretching her arms.

She smiles at me, her eyes half-closed, lips curling at the edges. Her soft shirt has slipped off her shoulder, revealing creamy skin, and her hair is sticking up every which way. She smiles sleepily, and my breath hitches at the sight.

“Good morning,” I whisper, smiling back at her.

As if my words awoke her from a daze, I watch as the sleepy haze leaves her eyes, and her body stiffens next to mine. It feels as if the tiny step forward we took toward more is being yanked away.

“You drooled all over my arm,” I say playfully, trying to lighten the mood.

She wipes away the wetness from her mouth, and I laugh at her horrified expression. She pushes herself up into a seated position on the bed, her hair becoming a curtain around her. I reach up, pushing it back behind her ear, and she stiffens again.

“It’s fine, Liv. We all drool.” I point at my pillow, where a small puddle was formed and is slowly drying. This gets a smile out of her that feels like a small victory.

“Well, you pass gas in your sleep,” she adds, settling back onto the bed.

She scrunches her nose, and I find it irresistible. I reach out and tug her to me, tickling her sides, enjoying the way a snort escapes her as she laughs.

“I do not!”

“Do too. Ah!” she squeals and places her hands onto my chest.

The heat from her hands feels as if they’re on fire.

I stop tickling her and lean over her, our faces so close together that our breaths combine.

If she were officially mine, I’d kiss her right now.

Her eyes dip to my lips, just for a second, before she looks up at me.

Is this a green light? Because she must be thinking the same thing.

Before I can act, her alarm starts playing again, breaking the moment.

She jumps off the bed, silencing it before rushing into the bathroom. I follow Olivia, her piercing green eyes watching me closely as I stand next to her and gather my toothbrush and toothpaste. I give her a wink in the mirror reflection, and she averts her eyes as we brush our teeth together.

“I think I’m going to go for a run this morning,” I announce once we’re done rinsing our mouths.

I need an excuse to burn off whatever I’m experiencing right now, fearing that I’m pushing our boundaries a little too much. I guess harboring feelings for years will do that to someone. There isn’t a gym nearby, so running is the only exercise I can choose right now.

“I need to burn off all of the extra calories from this weekend,” I say instead of the truth, smirking when she bumps her shoulder into mine.

“Like it’ll even hurt you. You’re rock solid.” She slaps my stomach, her fingers lingering for a second before her smile falls, and she snatches her hand away and retreats into the bedroom.

We both take turns using the bathroom to get ready for the day. Once we’re done, we make our way into the living room where most of the family is gathering. Emma ambles toward me, her blonde hair pulled into cute pigtails, and she’s bundled up like Randy in A Christmas Story .

“It’s a Christmas miracle!” her little voice squeals, reminding me so much of my niece, Annabelle.

“What is?” I ask, eyeing my family, who is all beaming at us.

My brow raises, and I glance over at Olivia, who shrugs her shoulders and looks back at Emma. Emma is clapping her hands together and points behind us, toward where the front door sits.

“It snowed.”

“Really?!” My ears ring as Olivia shouts, taking Emma into her arms, and rushes over to the window.

I follow them to take a peek, and sure enough, it snowed.

The sun is rising, the light illuminating the snow, which flickers like twinkling stars before us.

I peer up and see glistening icicles hanging from the roof.

They send fragments of colorful light across the blanket of white.

The whole neighborhood looks like the inside of a snow globe.

I go for my run while everyone else stays back at the house. Olivia and some of the family decide to play in the snow together. I’m thankful that she gets along well with everyone and that she’s comfortable with being herself around them. Oddly enough, that even includes my dad.

“Hard Fought Hallelujah” by Brandon Lake is blasting through my earbuds, a song that is stirring my soul a little extra with everything I’ve been dealing with lately, as my sides start burning.

My lungs are aching from the cold air, and I work through it because this is exactly what I need.

I’m sure I’ll regret it tomorrow, but right now I’m grateful for it.

I push myself harder, wanting to drown out the insecurities and emotions that have been crowding my thoughts and replace it with physical pain. It sounds crazy—I know—but it’s how I cope when life becomes hard.

I try to envision myself leaving my messy thoughts and feelings behind me, and with every step against the pavement, it takes me further and further away from them. I don’t stop until I can feel my heart and mind start to clear.

I’ve only been gone for maybe forty-five minutes, doing a full lap around the neighborhood, until I can finally see my grandmother’s house ahead of me.

I slow down to a walk, placing my hands on top of my head, attempting to control my breathing.

Olivia sees me first, smiling brightly as she gives me a wave.

“There he is,” she says, her smile widening, seeming more like the Cheshire cat, and before I have time to react, she tosses a snowball at me, hitting me right in the face .

She bursts into laughter, my family joining her, as Emma shouts, “Snowball fight!”

Then everything becomes a blur of white as snowballs are being tossed at me, for reasons I’m unsure of. I plot my revenge, starting with a cute redhead who’s currently running away from me.

I chase after Olivia, jumping up and tackling her down into the powdery snow.

She’s laughing so hard as she attempts to crawl away from me, but I don’t let her.

I grab a handful of snow and smush it onto the back of her neck.

I release my hold on her as she lets out a squeal and twists around just enough to plow my face with a second snowball.

Snow fills my ears, my mouth, and is up my nose. I push out a puff of air, sending the snow flying from my nostrils, earning another fit of laughter from her. I blink away the flakes that are melting in my eyes and catch Olivia’s hand before she can toss another snowball at me.

I move her hand and push the snowball into her face, and now it’s my turn to laugh.

She jumps up quickly, attempting to sprint away from me, but trips on the snowman body Emma was forming.

Olivia is sent flying through the air and lands face first into the snow.

I can’t stop laughing. Tears are forming in my eyes as she turns and looks back at me, frowning, like I was the reason that she tripped.

I push myself up from the snow, walk over to Olivia, and lower my hand to help her. She takes it, but instead of getting onto her feet, she pulls me down, causing me to fall and land on top of her. My face is in the crook of her neck, nose pressed into the snow, our laughter shaking our bodies.

Before pushing myself up onto my arms, I trail my nose along the slope of her neck and speak directly into her ear, “You’re going to pay for that.”

I enjoy the way goosebumps break out over the exposed skin on her neck.

I know they’re caused by me and not the cold snow around us.

I hover over her, my arms on either side of her head, and I watch as the pink on her skin turns into a shade of red.

Our chests are pressed together, and with us this close, she has to hear how hard my heart is beating.

I’m not sure how Olivia and I went from a snowball fight to me pinning her against the snow.

Patience.

It’s what I’ve been reminding myself of every day since we started fake dating. Olivia made it clear that she didn’t want me to kiss her. Oh, but how I want to. Every cell, every nerve in my body is begging me to lean in and press my lips to hers.

Time seems to slow down, as if waiting to see where we will take this.

Olivia’s eyes are wide as she holds my gaze.

I catch the brief spark of desire there—tempered by the undercurrent of worry she’s trying to hide.

She’s not ready for this, and because of that, I push myself up until I’m standing on my feet.

I reach a hand out to her again, and this time she accepts my help and pulls herself up.

“Come on, let’s help Emma rebuild her snowman,” I suggest.

The knot that had formed in my throat after putting some space between me and Olivia finally starts to unravel as we roll snow into big, medium, and small balls. Once the snowman is finished, we take a step back to admire our hard work with Emma in my arms.

“He needs a name,” Olivia says, her nose scrunching up as she ponders.

Emma smiles brightly at the two of us, her arms waving in the air as she suggests, “Frosty. ”

Olivia shakes her head. “That’s a good name, but it might cause some confusion since the Frosty is his best friend.”

“Oh,” Emma replies, looking back at our large snowman friend. “I like that Frosty has a friend.”

“Of course Frosty has friends. He’s the coolest. What do we think about Stan?”

Emma and I both disagree, shaking our heads, and Emma lets a giggle escape her.

“Bernie,” I suggest.

“I like it,” Emma agrees.

Olivia beams and gives Emma a tickle. “That’s the perfect name for him. Let’s add the hat and see if he’ll come to life.”

Olivia hands a black top hat, that Nonni found for us to use, to Emma who places it onto Bernie’s head, and we wait.

Of course I know he’s not really going to come to life, but Olivia has this sort of magical presence about her, so I always expect some sort of miracle to happen when she’s around. Emma, however, looks disappointed.

“I think Bernie is a bit shy. He might wait until everyone is gone before he moves around,” Olivia adds, winking up at Emma.

“Like the toys do in Toy Story ?” she asks.

“Exactly.”

“Emma, do you want some hot chocolate?” her mother asks, and Bernie the Snowman is now forgotten. She wiggles her legs, almost causing me to drop her, until I can place her on the ground. She claps her hands in excitement and rushes to her parents.

We watch as everyone retreats into the warmth of the house, leaving Olivia and me alone—well, except for Bernie, of course. After a few beats of silence, Olivia says, “We need a pair of sunglasses.”

A laugh bursts out of me, as if it’s been trapped inside of my chest for too long. “Like Weekend at Bernie’s ? ”

“Yes. Of course. Let’s move him so it brings Emma a bit of Christmas magic.”

Olivia’s mouth stretches into a small, knowing grin—the kind that always makes my pulse pick up.

I love how animated she becomes when she’s being playful.

It’s what drew me to her in the first place in middle school.

She never lets life bring her down, always finding a way to brighten someone’s day.

I needed that in my life back then. I still do.

She makes me want to be better, inspiring me to try to shine that same kind of light.

I move around her and bend over until I’m at the bottom half of Bernie. “Support his top half,” I command, watching her brain process what I am suggesting until she understands and gets into place. I slowly push against the freezing snow, and Bernie starts to slide.

Once he’s about a foot over to our left, I stand up, straighten his red scarf, and cover the tracks with more snow. “There.”

She studies Bernie for a moment, her grin transforming into a bright smile, and then her eyes settle on me.

They have a twinkle in them, a spark of life that draws me in, and she opens her mouth to say something but is cut off by the sound of my grandmother hollering, “Come on, you two. It’s time to build gingerbread houses. ”

Olivia claps her hands together as she says, “Oh, I’m totally going to win!”

“ We will win because this is a couple’s competition.”