We eventually get back on task making the bracelets, and I stay turned away from Olivia so the design I picked for hers will be a surprise.
We work in cozy parallel, on separate projects but together in the space we’re taking up and the air we’re breathing. When I finally get serious, the bracelet is easy to make, even when I add in beads for extra flair.
It doesn’t take long before we’re ready to unveil our creations. Olivia goes first. She pulls the bracelet from behind her back.
“The blue is for your eyes, obviously,” Olivia explains as she points out the features she’s included, “and the yellow reminds me of your sunshiny personality. You always make my day brighter, and the way you’re lighting up my life this summer is something I’ll always be grateful for.”
Her eyes sparkle, but the blush on her cheeks tells me it’s an effort for her to be this vulnerable with me. My heart stretches and crackles in my chest. This woman. Doesn’t she know that I’d rather spend every day reliving my worst-ever at bat than leave her?
No, she doesn’t, a voice in my head whispers,because you’re afraid telling her will push her away.
“And I added your name, of course,” she finishes, indicating the white alphabet beads with black lettering that spell outGage.
I smirk at the irony and give her a one-armed hug, careful to keep her bracelet hidden behind my back. “Thank you, babe. I love it.”
I hold out my wrist, and she immediately fastens the bracelet around it. “Look at that: a perfect fit.” I grin at her.
Olivia bounces in her seat. “My turn!” she chirps, leaning forward to try to peek behind me.
“Drumroll, please,” I tease. She giggles, and I wait. I clear my throat. “Seriously. I need a drumroll.”
She rolls her eyes but raps her fingers against the table for a makeshift drumroll.
I bring my hand forward with a flourish, the bracelet I made for her lying flat against my palm. I used one color—a deep green flecked with silver glitter. Without a color pattern, the woven design of the rubber bands is more apparent, wrapping over and under each other in beautiful synchronicity.
“I’ve always loved seeing you in green.”
I watch her face closely as she delicately lifts the bracelet from my hand and turns it over in her fingers. Her features are soft, her eyes hooded and unblinking as a slow smile spreads across her lips.
She examines the black alphabet beads with silver lettering. “It saysGage,” she points out, her mouth quirking up and a question in her eyes.
So everyone will know you’re mine, I think. Out loud, I say, “So you’ll always think of me when you wear it.”
I take the bracelet from her and slip it onto her wrist, making sure the plastic clasp is secure. I let my touch linger, caressing the soft skin on her arm.
Finally, I lift my head and look at her. I’m half afraid of what I’ll see, nervous that I’m coming on too strong.
But she’s glowing under my gaze, peering at me with a look of wonder and love that echoes what I feel for her.
It’s almost too much to hope for, too much to expect, but I push her even further. “Come to dinner with us tonight.” My voice is low, infused with a confidence born from reckless, optimistic longing.
Her eyebrows pull together. “Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude on your family time.”
The way she says it sends a surge of warmth through my chest. A family dinner. Maggie and her husband and two kids are clearly a family, and sometimes I struggle to see where Annie and I fit into that. Sometimes I feel like I’m the one intruding.
But Olivia’s simple acceptance of my place in Maggie’s family, like it’s a given that I belong with them, makes it easier for me to accept it, too.
I lean my forehead against hers. “I’m positive. I always want you to be where I am.”
Chapter twenty-eight
Olivia
Thatevening,GageandI take his Jeep into town to meet his family for dinner. We both wear our new bracelets, looking like a couple of lovesick saps with the kitschy rubber bands on our wrists. An impression I’m not saying would be completely inaccurate.
As we tiptoed around each other in front of our families at the party last weekend, separate but together, all I could think was how much I hated the act. My reasons for avoiding a real relationship with Gage faded into the background, still present, but not what I wanted to focus on.
All of the little moments and hints throughout the summer that have made me think Gage wants more than a fling meld together into a flashing neon sign, especially after our craft session earlier.
