Page 49 of The Shift Between Us (Covewood #2)

Chapter Twenty-Four

Olivia

T he road stretches out in front of us as we travel home.

The first hour into our drive is strangely quiet with both of us needing some time to decompress after the long weekend.

Luke keeps his hand woven within mine as I stroke the top of his with my thumb, a silent gesture reminding him that I am here for him.

By the second hour, I have had enough of the quiet and decide to turn on my happy playlist. Eventually, both of us began to sing along to the lyrics. Luke’s baritone hits my ears so softly I can barely hear him over the music.

His fingers tap against the steering wheel to the beat. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled to his elbows, revealing his brawny forearms that I keep staring at. He turns his head to meet my eyes, giving me a flirty grin, and a jolt of heat strikes me.

“What?”

“Just remembering that you twerked with my Nonni,” he says, his grin transforming into a smirk .

A loud laugh escapes me. “That’s what you’re over there grinning about?” I slap his shoulder playfully.

Luke observes me, up and down, reminding me of a lion about to pounce. He’s never looked at me like that before. It’s as if he’s plotting the path he wants his lips to take—every single spot he’d stop and enjoy.

My skin tingles in all the places his eyes have touched during this long drive together, a lingering electricity that’s clinging to the air between us that hasn’t been there before. I’m both excited and terrified to see what will happen the moment we’re home.

“It’s one of the many things that happened this weekend that will forever live rent free in my head.”

I peek up at him through my lashes and see that he’s adoringly focused on me, a smirk lifting the corner of his lips, before he returns his eyes to the road, like he, too, was thinking about the kisses we’ve shared over the last twenty-four hours.

We were supposed to go back to normal after we left his Nonni’s house. That was our unspoken deal. I had planned on laughing it off, brushing away the comments, and going back to being best friends.

Now, my lips still tingle, his kisses imprinted on them forever, and my stomach is one big knot of what-ifs.

What if this ends up ruining everything? What if we go back and things are weird and awkward and heavy with the weight of everything we haven’t said out loud? Oh no, we still need to have a talk about all of this. The reminder causes the knot in my stomach to grow tighter.

“What are you thinking about, Cupcake?” he asks, shifting his focus from the road and back to me.

About how our little charade became so real, way too fast. And now that we no longer have to put on a show for your family, I’m wondering where we go from here.

“Nothing,” I say instead, shrugging my shoulders, watching the passing cars outside of my window .

He strokes his thumb on the back of my hand, because it’s all he can do at this moment while driving us home, and my eyes drift to him.

I catch the intensity in his stare, and it feels like I’ve been standing too long in the sun—heat rising up my neck, burning in my ears.

I drop my gaze down to our interlocked hands, our fingers laced together so naturally, as though this is a daily occurrence.

As if I hadn’t only dreamt of this for years. I’m terrified to want Luke like this, but here I am anyway, wanting him. Wanting this with him.

“Is that nickname really sticking?” I give him a smirk.

“What? You don’t like it anymore?”

“I’m just wondering if there are other options to choose from.”

“Well, I thought it was fitting since you make a lot of cupcakes, and you look just as delicious.”

As if my face could get any hotter, he goes and says something like that. I raise my free hand and touch my cheeks, tucking my chin to hide my grin.

“I could call you something else that you make. Like Bagel. Or Scone? Oh, what about Macaron?”

“Stop,” I giggle, enjoying the sound of our laughter intertwined together. “I’ll stick with Cupcake.”

I reach for his phone and change the song, thankful that we’re listening to my happy playlist, and Backstreet Boys starts playing through the speakers. Luke rolls his eyes, pretending not to enjoy the song, but he sings the lyrics with me anyway.

“Remember how much fun their concert was a few years ago? I wish I could go back in time and relive that night,” I say, reflecting on the memory.

“If I could relive a moment, I would go back to that time we went to Kings Island, and that bird hit you in the chest while we were on a roller coaster.”

My smile disappears instantly. “That moment still haunts my nightmares. ”

He’s laughing so hard that it’s difficult not to join him. “Your face was priceless,” he says, mimicking what my expression must have looked like.

I roll my eyes, letting go of his hand to give his shoulder a light shove, before he snatches my hand back into his.

He smiles at me once he’s done laughing, and it’s nothing more than just a smile.

But it gets me every time. I realize then that it’s those small moments in life, the ones you spend smiling with someone you love, that are the true moments I would love to relive.

“Thank you,” I say softly, leaning over so my head can rest on his shoulder.

“For what?” he asks.

“For this weekend.” I don’t have to go into the details. He knows everything that I’m referring to.

“Thank you , Liv.” He tugs my hand until he can reach to give the top of it a quick kiss.

As soon as the front door opens to my house, I hear “White Christmas” by The Drifters blasting through my speakers.

My living room is a complete mess. There are cat clothes scattered everywhere.

The photo backdrop that Wren and Zane created is still intact next to my Christmas tree, which is currently laying down on the floor.

My mouth drops as soon as I turn and see that the kitchen counters are covered in dishes.

Luke waltzes in behind me and stops in his tracks, dropping our luggage to the floor, as he takes in the mess.

Wren is singing along to the song, dancing down the hallway with Buttercream in her arms, whose face is the mirror image of Grumpy Cat’s.

Wren screams when she sees Luke and me in the doorway. The sound sends Buttercream hissing and jumping down from her arms before escaping into my bedroom.

“Wren! What the?—”

“They’re here!” she shouts over her shoulder.

The bathroom door slams shut before Zane appears in front of us.

“Oh, you’re here already?” He’s wearing my elbow-length yellow rubber gloves, which barely fit around his large forearms, and is carrying cleaning supplies into the kitchen.

He smiles nervously at us before whipping his face to Wren to give her a disapproving frown. “Thanks for the help.”

“Time slipped away,” she says carelessly, shrugging her shoulders, and anger starts to coil inside my stomach, “Welcome home, Sis.”

“I, uh… I made you a welcome home charcuterie board,” Zane announces as he moves to my fridge, which thankfully still looks intact, and pulls out a cutting board filled with different meats, cheeses, and vegetables that are covered with plastic wrap, “I’ll just leave this here.”

Zane places the board onto the kitchen table before nervously looking over at Wren, who’s attempting to pick up the Christmas tree.

This jolts Luke back to reality, and he shuts the front door before walking over to help her.

My eyes study the mess once more before I let out the shriek that’s been building inside me.

“I’m going to—” I snap, stomping my way toward Wren.

Her eyes widen as she sees me coming, and she releases her grasp on the tree. Luke huffs as its full weight hits him, but he manages to lift it back to its normal spot.

“Just so you know, I only helped with the photoshoot mess. The rest was all her.” I follow Zane's finger as he points at Wren, and I scowl at her.

“Then why didn’t you start cleaning the living room instead of the bathroom?” Wren snaps, furrowing her brows at him.

“You know why. ”

I peer down the hallway. “Wren, what did you do to my bathroom?”

She has the audacity to blush. “Some things are better left unknown.”

My home is supposed to be my sanctuary, but right now, it feels like the complete opposite.

“What did you do to my house?” I ask, slouching in defeat.

“I, uh… I guess I took relaxing to a whole different level this weekend.”

“This is how you relax?” Luke adds from behind me.

“I trusted you with my home. And this is how you leave it for me?” I growl.

She gives me an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Liv. I’ll start cleaning right now.”

“You’ve had hours to jump in and help.” Zane scoffs.

“How about this?” Luke loudly says, demanding all the attention in the room. “Olivia, go take a long hot shower, and the three of us will have everything cleaned up before you’re done.”

“I doubt you’ll be done by then, but I don’t have the energy to keep arguing.”

I squeal as Luke hoists me over his shoulder, grabs my bag, and makes his way toward the bathroom.

“Luke, what are you doing?” I gasp, my heart thundering in my chest. He doesn’t answer me. Instead, he sets me gently on my feet, his eyes locked on mine with something fierce, and he then leans in and presses his lips to mine, stealing the breath right out of my lungs.

It’s unfair how he’s using a kiss to distract me right now, but I can’t find a reason to be mad at him.

I welcome the distraction, running my hands up his chest, feeling the pounding of his heart against my palm.

He pulls back and smiles down at me before reaching over and tucking a lock of hair behind my ear, allowing his thumb to linger as he traces my jaw and then the swell of my bottom lip .