Page 52 of The Shift Between Us (Covewood #2)

I run a palm down my jaw, and I finally force myself out of my car. I went home after work to replace my police uniform with a pair of dark jeans and an olive-green flannel shirt. I packed an overnight bag, just in case our conversation goes better than I’m expecting, before I headed this way.

I make my way up her steps, my breath clouding in front of me from the cold air, and as soon as I open the front door, I’m drowned in the scent of sweet and spice as the roar of Olivia’s music hits my ears.

I shut the front door behind me and feel the air get sucked out from my lungs at the sight of her.

She’s absolutely stunning in her cream sweater and pair of jeans that have little pink and white flowers embroidered onto their back pockets and down the side. She has her hair pulled back with a pink ribbon that I want to reach out and give a slight pull to release her waves.

I can’t breathe. My nervous system is getting the best of me, but as Olivia glances up from a tray of what looks to be lemon bars, her smile cracks wide open, and suddenly I can breathe again.

Something inside of me heats, expanding from my center and spreading through all the parts of me that were once cold before.

I stop just outside the kitchen, reminding my lungs to continue breathing by inhaling air slowly through my nose.

“There you are,” she says, placing down her spoon before washing her hands in the sink.

Her green eyes look up at me, and a bolt of desire shoots down my spine.

Being away from her today has messed with me.

I rub the heel of my hand against my chest, attempting to put everything back where it belongs, because just the mere sight of her has completely unraveled me—knowing that, for now, she’s mine.

I want her. No. I need her. More than I ever have before.

“What is it?” she asks, drying her hands on a dish towel, her eyes never leaving mine.

“Every time you look at me with that smile, I just…” The words are caught in my throat.

She lifts a brow, her smile faltering, “You just what?”

All I want to do is rush to her and take her mouth with mine. I should probably ask her before I do, or I should use my brain and think, because I came here with a mission, but all I’ve done today is think, and I don’t want to think anymore, not when she’s within arm’s reach.

So I choose not to think. Instead, I move across the kitchen, closing the distance between us, and crash my mouth on to hers.

Olivia responds immediately, her hands fisting in the collar of my flannel, giving it a tug so I can move closer to her.

A groan escapes from the back of my throat, and she murmurs something inaudible against my mouth as she uses her fingers to scratch up and down my scalp before moving to my neck and sliding across my shoulders.

I continue to kiss her because words can’t possibly express how I feel right now. I let my hands crawl up her thighs, and she hums in approval. It drives me crazy, how easily she responds to me, and my mind grows dizzy with possibilities.

Instead of acting on them—even though I very much want to—I pull away and set my forehead against hers. We take a few seconds to catch our breath before we open our eyes and look at each other.

“You weren’t lying when you said you missed me more,” she says breathlessly, quirking a brow, a grin tugging on her kiss-swollen lips.

I search my fuzzy brain for the words I came here to say, my eyes settling on all the places on her face that I want to touch instead. I press my lips together. They’re still warm from her kiss, and I cup her jaw in my hand.

“I love you.” The words slip out of me so quickly, my brain still deciding that we’re done with thinking for today. Maybe we should go back to making out for a few more minutes to help us figure things out. I like the sound of that.

“I’ve always been,” I add.

She opens her mouth to say something, her eyes widening with my confession, but instead of letting her reply, I press my lips to hers. My brain is running on want, and right now, all I want is Olivia.

I kiss her like I’ve wanted to since we were teenagers, all the years of built-up emotions unraveling through me.

All the years I wanted to kiss her but couldn’t flood every nerve ending in my body.

She pulls back, long enough to say breathlessly, “I love you too,” before she leans into me and kisses me again.

To know that she feels the same way about me is all it takes for my control to snap. I’ve waited for what feels like a lifetime for this moment.

I’ve spent most of our relationship waiting. Waiting to be the person I always thought I was on the verge of becoming, waiting to be what she deserved, waiting for the life I thought I would have. In my head, I was always one step away. And finally, Olivia knows how I feel, and I can act on it.

I place my hands onto her hips and lift her up. I’m thankful that I could walk the layout of her house with my eyes closed, because I’m practically doing that, until my legs bump into the couch, and I pin her against the cushions.

This is more than just a physical desire with her. This goes soul deep. I want to memorize every part of her. I want to know Olivia in ways that I’ve never known her before. To know her better than anyone else. I want to be her everything, because she’s always been mine.

I move my face down the slope of her neck, placing a kiss onto the shell of her ear, feeling her shiver against me, and I’m overcome with a primal surge of satisfaction.

I lift up until I can see her face. Her lips are dark and swollen, her chin and neck are red from my facial hair, and she looks completely undone.

Her lips part as I move closer until my mouth closes over hers.

I’d happily get lost in Olivia, and that's exactly what is happening. I’m not thinking about anything but her—her curves that are pressing against my chest, the material of her sweater as I stroke her back, the way her soft lips open, inviting me in.

I could feel her against me every day for the rest of my life, and it would never be enough.

“Luke,” she utters as she leans away from me.

I move forward, seeking to feel her lips again, but she places a hand onto my chest that sends a warning to my brain. Oh, now it decides to work. I freeze, my eyes snapping open, my breath hitching as I sense the fear behind her green eyes.

I lost control. I took things further than she wanted. How did I allow this to happen?

“It’s okay,” she says softly, reading my sudden panic, and places the palm of her hand onto my cheek. “As much as I’d love to continue this, there’s something I need to tell you.”

I can practically hear the shattering of glass as reality hits me full force. I didn’t come here to make out with Olivia. I didn’t mean to move so fast with her. I came here to talk to her, to clear the air between us so we can finally move forward.

I pull back, settling into the couch, putting some much-needed space between us. Heat travels up my neck and settles into my cheeks with embarrassment. I inhale and drop my head as I add, “I’m sorry, Liv. I sort of lost control there.”

“It’s okay. We’re both humans who are attracted to each other. It’s normal to feel these urges and to want to act on them. Trust me, I could have lost control right along with you.”

Why didn’t we, then? my subconscious asks.

“I know we don’t talk about intimacy. It’s like this unspoken rule in our friendship. But since that just happened”—a blush spreads across her cheeks—“you should know something.”

She looks away from me, her eyes landing on the floor, and her fingers begin to drum against her thigh nervously. I sigh, palming the back of my neck, guilt pricking at me.

“I know you don’t remember that night ,” she starts, not having to explain what that night means, and my guilt grows and presses against my chest. “But I didn’t tell you the whole story. With Barry.”

Every muscle in my body stiffens, and my breath catches in the back of my throat as I see the emotions she’s fighting to keep at bay.

I wait, giving her time to gather her thoughts, and am terrified of what she’s about to reveal.

Then her eyes lift up to mine, and what’s behind them feels like a physical slap to the face.

“I waited for you, for hours, and once I knew that you weren’t coming, that you didn’t choose to be with me, I was completely wrecked.

I didn’t really understand it then, how much I truly loved you, until you didn’t show up.

” She sucks in a breath, the rims of her eyes shining with the tears she’s trying to hold back, and I want to reach out and take her hand into mine.

For some reason, I can’t move. I sit there, completely rigid, and allow my guilt to continue festering inside me.

This guilt has sat in my chest like a heavy stone that’s impossible to ignore.

I have carried it for so long that it’s almost started to feel like a part of me, but now, being only a few feet away from her, it feels unbearable, as though it’s pressing against my ribs, squeezing every bit of air out of my lungs.

My fingers curl into fists at my sides, not from anger but to stop them from shaking. Every word from her feels like we’re both walking into something we can’t come back from.

She exhales before continuing. “I was about to leave when Barry found me. We sat in my car, and he was saying all the right things, and I thought to myself, here is a guy who wants to be with me, who, at the time, seemed like he really cared about me. I started to convince myself that I was wrong before, blinded by the confusing feelings I had for you, and that I needed to make things right.”

She takes a breath, exhaling slowly, as if mentally preparing herself for what she’s about to say. “Barry was a smooth talker. He knew all the right things to say. And then things moved so quickly that before I could even think about what I was doing…we, uh…”

My hands flex at my sides, balling into fists and then releasing as I try to resist the urge to reach for her.

Because although I haven’t heard this part of her story, I knew how completely wrecked she was that next morning.

Had I known that my decision would have done this to her, I would had made a different decision that night.

“And then afterward, he laughed at me, told me that he was just getting back at me for dumping him in front of his friends, and then he left me. All alone. I gave him something that I can never get back…all because I was young and confused and hurt.” She fights against a sob, trying to stay strong as she finishes her story, but I’m not sure I want to hear any more.

“I vowed to myself the next day that I would wait to have sex again until I knew I was going to marry that person. That's why we can’t keep going like we just were.”

Her words slice through me, cutting me right to my core.

I’m not sure how to respond. My stomach is in knots, nausea is starting to roil inside of me, and my heart feels like it’s beating faster than it should.

I don’t want to tell her my side of the story, not after she revealed hers, but I know that if I keep this from her any longer, when she does find out, it’ll hurt her even more. She deserves to know the truth.

She continues, “I haven’t broken that promise to myself.

It’s why I got baptized that summer, hoping I’d feel a little bit better about myself.

It’s also why relationships haven’t worked out in the past. I’ve become super picky, and most of the guys would leave when they didn’t get what they wanted.

I figured the one who’s worth my time would stick it out until marriage.

I wanted to tell you before things get heated like that again. It’s silly, I know?—”

“It’s not silly,” I say, finally reaching out to take her hand into mine, wanting to jump in to defend her. “I’m glad you told me. I admire your commitment to yourself. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been for you, everything you’ve had to go through. I’m so proud of you, Liv.”

She lets my words sink in, her eyes dancing over my face, and her brows furrow together. “Then why do you look so sad?” she asks, almost in a whisper.

She must feel the way my body tenses, because she moves closer to me.

My heart is thumping in my ears so loudly I’m sure she can hear it over the soft sounds of Christmas music in the background.

There's a nudge deep within my gut, letting me know that this is the perfect time to open up to her, to finally tell her the truth. And for the first time, I want to tell her the secret I’ve been keeping from her.

I want to let this go so that it might lose some of its power.

So it can loosen its hold on me. On us .