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I made a mental note as well. You know…just in case.
I was dead tired, but eager to get back to Olivia. She’d been staying at my house while she worked to find a place. Usually Jolette would have arranged all her housing accommodations, but since the whole goal was for her to be around me as much as possible—that hadn’t happened. Olivia had no idea about that, of course, and since I was paying her realtor tonotfind a place for her to move into, I had myself the loveliest, most perfect roommate of all time at the moment.
Lincoln had parked near me in one of his sports cars, and he was silent as he walked, texting someone—i.e. Monroe—as we walked.
“See ya,” I told him as I unlocked my truck.
“Hey, I just wanted to say something,” Lincoln said, before I could climb in the cab.
He sounded like he had his “Captain Linc” voice on, and I was immediately nervous.
“What’s up?”
“I don’t know everything that’s happened with Olivia, but what I do know is that most likely she’s going to find out someday all about it.”
Well, fuck. Hadn’t expected this conversation today.
I eyed him warily.
“Just be prepared,” he said. “She’ll want to run…and I’d suggest not letting her.”
With those wise…and foreboding words…he walked to his car and got in.
I had fucking goosebumps.
I was deep in thought the entire drive home, going well over the speed limit because his words had made me fucking anxious.
What if she wasn’t there when I got back?
What if one day she left, and I never found her again?
As I pulled into the driveway and threw the truck into park, I’d all but convinced myself I was going to walk in and she wasn’t going to be there.
All my worries disappeared when I walked into the house.
And there she was.
Olivia was sitting in one of my t-shirts on the couch, strumming on her guitar. The way her eyes lit up when she saw me…if I hadn’t been in love already, I would have been now.
“Honey, I’m hoooome,” I called to her dramatically as I set my bag on the floor, trying to cover up the fact that I’d been freaking out for the past twenty minutes.
Her answering laugh settled something inside me.
“How was practice?” she asked as I stood there hesitantly.
Finally, I decided, “fuck it”, and embraced my desperation by walking over to the couch and lifting her up, settling her on my lap so I could wrap myself around her.
I took a second to breathe her in, until my heart stopped pounding and I’d convinced myself she was really here.
She was quiet, probably sensing my mood even though I was trying my best to hide it.
“How was practice?’ she asked softly, as the mood in the room drifted into some sort of dreamy subspace.
“The team’s fucking incredible. I can just feel it, ya know…this year is going to be special.” She laid her head back on my shoulder and softly stroked my arm.
“Stanley Cup all the way.”
“Shhh. You can’t say that. It’s bad luck!” I said, putting a hand over her mouth. She bit down on my hand and I growled, hardening underneath her.
