Page 116 of The Truth of Us

"What?" I responded with a bit more bite than I intended.

"I watched him watch you tonight."

I looked away. "Don't."

His voice softened. "I don't think he knew what he had, or maybe he did but didn’t know what to do with it."

I closed my eyes. Because that was part of the problem, neither had I.

The car rolled to a stop outside my townhouse, and neither of us moved. After a moment, Oliver turned toward me. "I meant what I said."

I frowned. "About what?"

"Getting to know you." His smile was soft. "The woman you've become."

My chest ached because Oliver had always been safe; he had always been honest. He had always been the kind of man I thought I should fall in love with.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

He chuckled. "Why?"

"Because I think you deserve someone who looks at you the way my mother looked at my father."

His smile didn't falter when he replied, "I agree."

The honesty of it stole my breath. Then he reached over and brushed a curl away from my face, asking, "Can I do something stupid?"

I laughed, saying, "That depends."

"I'm going to do it, anyway."

Before I could respond, he leaned forward and kissed me. It was gentle, tame, and safe. When he pulled back, we both knew. There was nothing there. No spark or fire. No feeling that the world had tilted beneath my feet. Just affection, comfort, history, and friendship.

Oliver smiled first. "Well."

I laughed. "Oh my God. You kissed me."

"I did."

"And?" I asked, even though I knew.

He leaned back in his seat. "I think we just saved ourselves years of wondering."

The laugh that escaped me felt real.

"You aren't upset?" I asked.

He looked genuinely surprised. "Harper."

"What?" I whispered.

"I love you."

My breath caught, not because of the words, but because of how easily he said them. Without expectation, ‌manipulation, or fear.

He smiled. "But not like that."

Tears burned behind my eyes. "You'll still be my friend?"