CARTER
“STOP SMILING LIKE A JACKASS.”
“You can’t prove shit, old man.”
Hank finds my face, covering it with his hand and shoving it away. “I know you like the back of my hand, Carter.”
Chuckling, I finish rearranging the food on his plate before sliding it over to him. “Steak is at twelve o’clock, scrambled eggs at three, hash browns at six, and toast with jam at nine.” I wait for him to locate his fork before I answer him. “Might be smiling a bit, but never like a jackass.”
He snorts, stabbing at his steak. “I highly doubt that, but why don’t you go ahead and tell me why you’re smiling.” He gestures at me with his fork. “Does it have anything to do with why you showed up three hours early today and we’re having breakfast instead of lunch?”
Dublin’s head whips back and forth between me and Hank, watching every disappearing bite. Poor guy’s got a puddle of drool so big gathering at his feet that I’m beginning to worry it might be a slipping hazard, so I let him eat a breakfast sausage from my hand.
“You feeding my damn dog again? You spoil him.” Hank’s own fingers find a piece of steak, and he smiles when Dublin doesn’t hesitate to devour it.
“I have a date today. A lunch date.” An all-day date, really, but Olivia doesn’t know that yet. Pretty sure I only said lunch.
I glance at Hank, his hand gripping his fork in midair, halfway to his mouth, which is hanging open. He doesn’t have to look so shocked. I’m date-worthy. I can date. It’s not a big deal.
“Olivia?” he finally whispers. “You got the girl back?” “I did.” My voice sounds as excited as I know I look.
His fork clatters to the table when he claps his hands together, before he reaches out and grasps mine. His smile is so broad, so genuine that it makes mine grow.
“I knew you would, Carter.” He twists toward Dublin. “Didn’t I tell ya, Dubs? I told you Carter would win her back. I said you were wrong, that he isn’t a pansy.” He pats Dublin’s head. “You shouldn’t talk like that about him when he’s not around, buddy. He’s an okay guy.”
I roll my eyes, grumbling under my breath. “Did you kiss her?”
“Mhmm. Didn’t mean to, though.” A perfect example of how in control I am, which is to say not at fucking all. Frankly, it’s a miracle I didn’t fuck her in the bathroom at the party. The scrap of silk she was wearing between her legs was a sorry excuse for underwear.
“What the hell do you mean you didn’t mean to? Who doesn’t mean to kiss a beautiful lady you’re trying to win over?” He crosses his legs, kicking me in the knee in the process. Pretty sure it’s deliberate.
Why didn’t I mean to kiss her? That’s a good question.
Oh yeah. ’Cause I’m trying to remind us both who’s in charge. Right. Except I’m not sure it’s me. I think it might be her.
Pretty damn sure it’s her. “I’m trying to take control.”
Hank snickers into his napkin. It spirals quickly, and suddenly he’s keeled over the table, everybody in the diner looking to see what’s so funny. “Control? You? A man?” He slaps a palm down on the table. “Shit, I’ve never heard something funnier. Carter, let me tell ya something, son.” Leaning on his elbow, he braces his hand out between us, pointing my way. “In a relationship, the only person ever in control is the woman. She always
—always, always, always—has the power. She owns you and those dangly things between your legs.” He cups both hands side by side, around imaginary balls, I presume. Leaning back in the booth, he sighs. “The sooner you realize that the better.”
“I don’t think so. I did a pretty good—”
“No, you didn’t. You kissed her even though you didn’t mean to. Why? Because she has the power. Because you took one look at that pretty face and you crumbled to the floor at her feet. And you always will, because you’ll put her before anyone and everything else.”
Well, that’s kinda scary. Hockey’s my number one. Or I guess my family is, and hockey’s a real close second. Still, could Olivia be as important? Could she overtake hockey?
That’s a stupid question. She already has. It’s evident in the way losing her before I really had her fucked with my game. And that’s scary because we weren’t even together at that point. There was no us, only a blatant lack of us.
“When do I get to meet the special lady?”
“If I want to keep her around?” I swipe my rye toast through my egg yolk and pop it in my mouth. “Never.”
He chuckles, tossing a balled-up napkin at me. “Son of a bitch.”
Hank and I head out for a walk before I take him home, and I help him settle in his La-Z-Boy. Dublin tucks himself into his dad’s side while I get Hank set up with his audiobooks. He loves listening to smutty romances. He says it’s the only action he gets anymore.
“Have fun on your date, Carter. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
I look down at the cover of the book that’s displayed on the tablet I got him two years ago for his birthday. Fifty Shades Darker. “I don’t think we need to worry about that.”
His hand searches for mine, and when I take it, he squeezes. “Love you.”
“Love you, too, you dirty old man.”
I’m not anxious; I’m in control. There’s a difference.
If I were anxious, would I have gotten here twenty minutes early and stayed in the car? Maybe.
If I were anxious, would I just be staring up at Olivia’s house? Also maybe.
It’s not as if I don’t know how to go on a date. It’s not like I have very real feelings for her that scare the living shit out of me. If I were anxious, would I—okay, I’m fucking anxious. I get it. But it’s not a big deal. Everyone feels this way before their first date, right? Whether they’re sixteen or nearly twenty-eight.
Right? Right.
There’s a startled half scream from inside the small house when I finally ring the doorbell.
“Shit. Fuck me. He’s early. I’m not ready.”
I glance at my watch. I’m one minute and thirty-two seconds early. And as I mentioned, I’ve actually been here for twenty minutes, sitting in my car. I got out three times, made it up the front steps, and then turned around and hightailed it back to the car.
But it wasn’t because I was anxious.
Olivia still hasn’t answered, but she obviously knows I’m here, so I ring the bell again, three times in quick succession, grinning at the curses flying from her mouth as her footsteps stomp closer.
The door swings open, revealing Olivia in all her glory. In her pajamas.
She’s wearing an oversized University of BC tee with a hole on the side of her waist, and a pair of striped long johns that are so long for her they completely cover her feet, except for her tiny pink toes. In her defense, when I called this morning, I did tell her to dress casually.
“This is slightly more casual than I was going for, but we can make it work.” I shake the little bit of snow off my toque and step inside. “You’re rocking the whole I-woke-up-like-this vibe.” Flashing a grin and a wink, I lean close. “Kinda makes me wanna take you back to bed.”
I never know what I’m going to get with Olivia, and I think that’s one of the things I like about her. Sometimes she’s quick with the sassy comebacks, and sometimes, like right now, she just stares up at me while her face floods with heat.
And she’s still not talking.
I thought I was nervous? Psssh. I’ve got nothing on Olivia.
“Oh my God,” she whispers. “I haven’t said a word yet, have I?” “You’re just kind of staring at me,” I confirm.
She buries her face in her hands. “I’m a fucking mess this morning.”
Chuckling, I haul her into my arms, hugging her tightly. “That’s okay. It makes me feel better about the fact that it took me four tries to actually knock on your door.”
“I thought you were in control.”
“Can I tell you the truth?” Hooking a finger beneath her chin, I tilt her face up. “I’ve never felt so fucking powerless. That’s why I’m gonna kiss
you now instead of waiting until the end of our date like I promised myself I would, okay?”
The corner of her mouth tugs up, and I bend my neck, touching my lips to hers. It’s tentative at first, a slow exploration, testing the boundaries. But then her lips part on a sigh, letting me in for a taste, and her fist grips my coat to keep her upright.
“Ol,” I whisper against her lips. “Mmm.”
“Go get dressed.”
An unimpressed noise rumbles in her throat, and I watch her ass bounce in those thin pants as she struts down the hallway, disappearing behind a door.
I take in the small entryway, smiling at the lanyard I gave her for Christmas that’s hanging beside her coat. She’s got two keys attached to it and an ID badge, and I trace Olivia’s bright beam.
I’m kinda nosy, so I open the hallway closet and am pleasantly surprised to find her hockey skates exactly where I hoped they’d be. My thumb glides over the blade, pleased to find them sharp. I quietly slip out the door and tuck them in my trunk, all before she finishes getting ready.
I peel my coat off and wander into the living room, trying to ignore the biting chill in the air as I take a seat on the couch. There’s a stack of romance novels that would likely pique Hank’s interest on one side of the coffee table, a pile of papers that appear to be graded tests on the female reproductive system on the other, and the pen that rests on top has perfect teeth marks engraved in it.
Picking up the frame on the side table, I examine the picture inside that I think is from this past Christmas, judging by the tree in the background. Olivia’s got a smiling baby in her arms—terrifying—and that small brown- haired girl from Cara’s picture glued to her side. I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen her look so utterly happy as she does in this picture.
“That’s my niece and my nephew,” Olivia tells me from the doorway. “Alannah and Jem.”
This woman before me is so effortlessly gorgeous I don’t know what to do with myself. Dressed in a pair of leggings and an oversized cream knit sweater that hangs slightly off one shoulder, she’s utter perfection in my eyes.
She fiddles with her hands. “I’m sorry it’s so messy in here.”
There’s a timidness in her voice that’s different from all the other times she likes to get a little quiet with me. A vulnerability that lets me know she’s ready to start letting me in, and I have a feeling that I’m about to see some pieces of her I’ve never seen. What doesn’t sit right with me is that she seems worried that I might not like all of her once I know her.
I pat the cushion beside me. “Come here.”
“Okay,” she whispers, but her feet remain rooted firmly in place. “One foot in front of the other,” I tease.
Her grin is broad and beautiful, goofy. She slaps a hand to her forehead before she ambles on over, and as soon as she’s within reach, I pull her down to me.
“I know we talked on Friday night, but I think we should air everything out so we can start fresh and keep on with those explosive kisses, yeah?”
I give her hand a squeeze when she doesn’t answer. “Ollie?”
She blinks, jolting. “Oh! Oh my God! I answered in my head. Yes, I wanna kiss you. Oh crap.” Her eyes widen and she jerks her hands back. “I mean, I want you to kiss me. No!” She grips her own face. “Talk! I want to talk! Oh fuck. This is awful.”
“You’re fucking adorable when you’re nervous.” I tuck a loose spiral behind her ear. “I just need to know how you’re feeling.”
“I’m scared,” she admits. “Scared that your feelings are temporary when I know mine aren’t.”
“I spent nearly two weeks trying to convince myself they were temporary, to let go of them and let go of you after you walked out. It didn’t work. I think they got stronger somehow, and that was really confusing for me, especially when I thought you were on a date. I didn’t know why it was so easy for you to move on, but impossible for me.”
“It was just Alannah,” she assures me. “My niece. She spends the weekend here sometimes and we go on all these dates, like out for lunch and to the movies.”
“Cara told me. If I’d just asked…” I scratch the back of my head, heat rushing to my ears. “Are you mad at me for what I did?”
Olivia covers my hand with hers. “No, Carter. I know you didn’t do anything, that you were hurting and you were trying to fix it.”
“I was so disappointed in myself.” A dull ache thuds in my chest, leaving me exposed. “Just for thinking about it, for considering it for even a
minute. I didn’t know how to handle what I was feeling. Everything is so new.”
“Sounds like we both need to be a little more patient with ourselves.”
I watch our fingers tangle together. “I want to date you, Ollie. I want to take you for dinner and go see Disney movies and dedicate my goals to you without feeling bad about it. I want us to give this a real shot.”
Her gaze is steady, assessing. “That’s a big change for you.” “One I’m ready to make if it’s me and you.”
White teeth graze her pink lip. “I’m kind of an all-in type of person, Carter, which means that I have to be able to envision a future with someone before I decide to take the next step. It’s why a genuine connection is so important to me, and I feel like I have that with you. So if that scares you…I just want you to know.”
I think about the lanyard hanging by her front door. I went shopping on Christmas Eve, the day after the fundraiser, because I knew I wanted to get her something. But beyond the gift, it was the words I wrote that meant the most to me. I was looking forward to the new year, because I was looking forward to a year with her in my life.
“I’m all in, as long as it’s you I’m all in with.” My lips meet hers with a gentle, sweeping kiss, and when she sighs, I break away, hugging her to me. “Are you still scared?”
She trails one finger along my collarbone. “Yes.” “What are you most afraid of?”
“Falling,” she answers quietly and without hesitation. My thumb skates across her lower lip. “I’ll catch you.” “Promise?”
Bringing her to me, I sear her with a kiss that feels every bit like a future I never knew I wanted.
“Promise.”
