Page 6 of The Shift Between Us (Covewood #2)

Chapter Two

Luke

I practice my strides, attempting not to limp as I walk toward Olivia’s little bungalow. As I straighten my back, a sharp pain shoots down my leg, causing my left knee to give out as I stumble, hissing in pain. Today will definitely go down as one of the worst days of my career.

“You alright there, officer?” a familiar voice calls from the house next door, and I instinctively hush her. The last thing I need is Olivia finding out what happened and hassling me about it.

I turn to see Edna leaning against her front porch railing, eyeing me curiously, smirking once her gaze lingers on my leg. I give her a small wave and straighten my spine, internally shouting as the pain returns.

“Yes, ma’am,” I reply as I continue toward Olivia’s porch steps.

I observe them for a moment, wondering how I’m going to make my way up without exposing that I’m hurt.

I peer over at Edna, who’s watching me closely, her smirk continuing to grow.

“How was book club?” I ask instead, deciding that stalling is my best tactic.

“All was well until Barbara and Faye started fighting over their book boyfriends and wasted a few of Olivia’s cupcakes in the process. I don’t mind when our book debates get a little heated, but wasting our girl’s hard work is where I draw the line.”

Our girl. Those words warm my core, but as quickly as it comes, I remind myself that Olivia isn’t my girl. She’s just my friend.

That’s what I deserve, right? After I blew her off the night of our graduation party, disappearing completely, I lost the right to call her anything more than that.

In my nightmares, I still see the way her smile had dimmed when she looked at me that summer, as if she were waiting for an explanation that never came.

I never thought I deserved her. She had big life plans and a future that didn’t include dragging around someone like me, who was barely holding his own life together. Even now, every time I look at her, I hear the echo of what I could’ve become if I’d been brave enough to meet her that night.

I nod in reply before turning back toward the porch and try to strategize how I can get up the three steps without injuring myself further.

“Rough day on the job?” Edna asks, and instead of denying it again, I take the first step, biting down on my lips as the burning sensation spreads from my knee down into the sole of my foot. “Here now, don’t let pride get the best of you.”

Before I can protest, Edna quickly moves down her porch steps and is at my side within seconds. “You’re pretty fast for an?—”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, or I’ll happily let you fall down these steps,” she grumbles and shoves against my shoulders before wrapping an arm around my bicep. She gives it a gentle squeeze before grinning up at me. “Never thought I’d be the one helping you up a set of stairs.”

“Yeah…” I start to say, but a groan escapes me as I lift my leg and am hit with a searing zap that radiates through my knee.

“Come on, let’s take this bull by the horns.”

My eyes widen, and I look down at her, searching her expression for answers, but instead she gives me an encouraging smile and leads me to the second step and then the third until we reach the top. I release a breath and lean against the porch railing to help take the pressure off my leg.

“Thanks, Eddy.”

“You’re welcome, honey. Livie will take good care of you, I’m sure.

But I’d prepare yourself before you head in there.

” She presses her lips together, and it’s then that I can make out the song that’s blasting from Olivia’s speakers inside.

It’s a song that’s on her “angry” playlist, which tells me her date must have gone horribly.

The gossip train, however, has been saying something different.

“That bad, huh? Why do you keep setting her up with these awful guys?” I ask, and the relief that I receive with knowing that Olivia’s date ended poorly instantly has me feeling guilty.

Edna replies with a smug smile, “Why do you think?”

“Eddy—” I protest, but she stops me by placing a bony finger against my lips. My eyes widen as she chuckles.

“Quit lying to me, boy. I’m not stupid. I’m seventy-seven years old and was married for fifty-four of them. I know what love looks like.”

The reminder of my true feelings for Olivia is more painful than the current throbbing ache in my leg.

If I can’t even hide my true feelings from Edna, how can I hide them from Olivia?

I’ve concealed them for years now, and Olivia still hasn’t figured it out—at least, I don’t think she has.

Or maybe she’s known this whole time and chooses to ignore it.

Either way, it sucks, and so does the painful reminder that I’ll always be in the friend-zone when it comes to her.

That’s where I belong. Each day, I seal my truths in a box, shove it into the shadows of my mind, and pretend I can’t hear them rattling.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know that I’m Team Luke, and that girl will be, too, one day.”

This grabs my attention. “What do you mean?”

Edna’s smirk grows as she pats my arm, giving my bicep a second squeeze before she makes her way down the porch steps. The little bit of hope that likes to live rent free inside of my heart flickers for a brief moment.

“What do you mean?” I repeat.

Without turning around, Edna gives me a wave and says, “Goodnight, Luke.”

I watch as she makes her way inside her house, my wheels spinning from what she said, before I take in a deep breath and proceed toward Olivia’s front door. I don’t even knock anymore. I waltz inside, and since Olivia’s music is blasting loudly, she doesn’t notice me limping inside her living room.

Her small home is an open concept. You can see every square inch of this place right from the front door.

Her living room takes up the left portion, and to the right is a spacious kitchen with a breakfast nook as her dining area.

At the back of the house are two bedrooms, each the same size, and between them sits a large bathroom with a his-and-her sink and clawfoot tub-shower.

I’ve always preferred her home over mine.

I live in a minimalistic cabin made up of wooden walls, wide windows, and a nice view of Lake Covewood.

The only decorations I have are two photographs of scenic views in Covewood, both captured by Raine, that hang up in my living room.

My floor plan is not an open concept, so everything feels stuffy and closed off, which is how my heart always seems to feel.

Hence why I don’t enjoy being at my place and usually end up at Olivia’s.

Her living room is painted a bright, sun-warmed yellow.

Burnt-orange throw pillows are scattered across a plush, oversized couch, and woven blankets in olive green and navy blue are always draped within arm’s reach, like she’s expecting someone to need comfort.

Macramé wall hangings, potted plants spilling over terracotta pots, and shelves stacked with books and half-burnt candles make the whole place feel like a warm embrace the moment you walk in. There’s always music playing low, and the air smells faintly of spices and whatever she’s baking that day.

It’s chaos, in a way, but intentional—much like her—and it always makes me feel more at peace than anywhere else.

Although, right now, Olivia is the complete opposite of inviting as she sings along to the music, her red hair swinging around as she punches the bowl of dough sitting on her countertop.

She gives the dough one final punch before turning to reach for something, but instead, my presence must startle her, because she screams then collides backward into the counter.

I give her an apologetic smile as she reaches over to turn down her music, clutching her chest.

“Knock much?” she scolds before taking a deep breath.

“You probably couldn’t hear me over the pandemonium happening in here, but I received a noise complaint from your neighbor,” I lie, loving how her nose scrunches at my words.

“You did not! Edna loves my loud music.”

“Edna isn’t your only neighbor.” I shrug, reaching over to grab a red apple from her fruit bowl and move to the sink to wash it. I take a bite, the crisp crunching sound filling the space between us, before I give her a smirk.

“Yeah, the others are random strangers who are only here during the tourist season,” she says.

My smile vanishes as I shift my weight onto my hurt leg and wince in pain. I bite my lip to hide the sound trying to vibrate from my throat. I catch Olivia smirking at me .

“What’s wrong? Did you pull a calf muscle?”

She knows. Of course she does. This town has no secrets, even when it’s none of their business. I huff in frustration, running a hand through my hair and down my face. All the while, Olivia’s trying her best not to laugh.

“Did Rick tell you?”

“No. He did one better.” She wiggles her eyebrows before pulling out her phone, tapping her screen a few times, then she plays a video of me being chased by an angry bull. She does laugh then, and it’s like music to my ears, the balm that I need on the hit my pride took today.

“Did he at least explain what happened?”

“Nope,” she says through a giggle as she hits replay, the sound of me shouting and jumping over a fence, landing wrong on my now throbbing leg, and a man yelling “Just show him your badge!” plays between us.

“Here’s what went down. I had to go inspect Harris' Farm today because we received an anonymous tip that they were growing illegal drugs.

Philip told me I was welcome to go everywhere but to a certain field.

Of course that was a red flag for me, and I reminded him that I wore the badge and can go wherever I need to.

Turns out there was a very good reason I shouldn't have gone to that certain field.

" I wave at the video that’s playing again in Olivia's hand.