11. Final Countdown #2
Warm eyes hold mine for a quiet beat of silence.
“I’m sorry,” she murmurs. “I would never knowingly put you in that position. You must realize the irony of the situation though, no? You saw another man with his hands on me once. Twice we’ve been at a bar together where you’ve expressed interest, and twice you’ve ended up with another woman’s hands on you.
” She holds up a hand, stopping me before I can argue with her.
“It just happens, I know. But it happens because that’s the narrative you’ve created for yourself, Carter.
I mean, how many women have you slept with since we met? ”
“None,” I answer truthfully and without hesitation.
A snort of disbelief. “Bullshit.”
“What reason would I have to lie?”
“To get me into bed.” The duh hangs heavy in the air between us.
“I’ve never needed to lie to get a woman into bed before.
” I realize how it sounds as soon as it’s out of my mouth, but by then Olivia is already on her feet and halfway to the door.
My fingers circle her wrist, stopping her.
“Stop. Stay, please.” I run an aggravated hand through my hair.
“Look, I don’t know how to talk about this kind of stuff, which is hard for me, because I don’t filter my words before they leave my mouth, but if you give me a minute, I’ll get there. ”
I wait for her to sit back down, and then try again.
“What I mean is I’ve never needed to lie about how many women I’ve been with.
It’s never been a secret because of the way I’ve lived my life.
Women know what to expect with me. And you know, clearly, because I’m pretty sure that’s the reason you’ve been dead set on avoiding me like the plague.
Why would I lie now? It’s gonna get me nowhere with you.
You’ll just add liar to the list of cons under my name. ”
She nibbles the corner of her lip. “I don’t…I’m not keeping score or anything.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it. The odds were stacked against me the moment I approached you.”
“Well, to be fair—”
“Yes, I asked you to go back to my condo and fuck, I know. Not a great first impression. If I could take it back, I would.”
“Why?”
I spread my legs, resting my elbows on my thighs. “Because then maybe you could get past all the other shit and we could move forward.”
She honestly could not look more confused. She’s also seriously lacking in terms of sassy comebacks. Part of me worries I’ve broken her. “What in the world are you talking about?”
I gesture between us. “This. Me and you.” I drive a hand through the air like an arrow. “Forward.”
“Is there a me and you, Carter? A forward?”
“I…” My shoulders feel taut and cramped, and my body itches to move, to flee before I can bring myself any deeper. Instead, I hold her small hand in mine, my thumb sweeping over the blush polish on her fingernails. “I think so.”
“You think so,” Olivia repeats slowly. Her gaze rises cautiously, meeting mine.
“I don’t have time for I think so ’s. Nor the energy to wait around while you figure out what you want from me, especially when the chances are pretty damn high that you figure out a couple weeks down the road, once I’m already in well over my head, that what you want is not a relationship. ”
My expression must hold all the disappointment I feel, because her warm hand cups my cheek, guiding my gaze back to hers.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound rude. I’m just not sure if you understand, Carter. We’re worlds apart.”
My gaze floats down her face, over her high cheekbones, the dainty freckles that paint her nose. She’s so beautiful, sometimes I think it hurts. “Are we?” I finally ask.
“ Aren’t we ? We want different things.”
“What if we don’t?”
“Can you tell me honestly that what you want is a serious, committed relationship? Because I don’t do casual, Carter. I’m not built for it, and I have no desire to waste my time on something that doesn’t have the potential to move forward.”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “All I know is being with you here feels nice, and it felt nice last week too. Don’t you feel it too?”
A beat of silence lingers between us, and my pulse thuds in my ears while I wait for her to answer, to tell me I’m not alone in this.
She brushes a stray wave from my forehead and smiles. “I do. But as it stands, Carter, I think that’s all we’re on the same page with. Does that make sense?”
I nod slowly, wetting my lips. “Does that mean if I wanted to try to be in a relationship, you’d let me try it with you?”
A laugh gurgles from her throat, a little bit anxious, a little bit exasperated.
“You realize you’re making it sound like tryouts, you know?
A relationship is something two people try together, yes, but I’m not a test run to see if being in a relationship is something you actually desire.
You need to decide what you want first before you go after the girl. ”
“What if the only thing I’m sure about wanting is you?”
She sweeps her thumb over the indent in my chin. “Sometimes wanting something isn’t enough.”
* * *
I spend the next two hours trying to pretend like my gaze isn’t exactly where it is: glued to Olivia.
I watch her become friends with my friends so effortlessly.
I watch her put her heels back on just to ditch them all over again two minutes later in my kitchen.
I watch her dance and drink and play games, and I watch her fucking laugh .
Fuck, is she ever spectacular when she laughs, head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, her milky skin stained with pink as her loose curls cascade down her back.
I rub at my chest, trying to soothe the tightness that stretches across it when one of my teammates touches her lower back, bending to whisper in her ear. All this jealousy I’m feeling tonight is throwing me off kilter; I don’t know how to handle it.
But Olivia catches my eye, the corner of her mouth lifting as she sidesteps away from him, and for some reason, that’s it. For some reason, I know: no isn’t an option when she’s involved.
Because I can do better, be better , and I can do it for Olivia. I want to do it for Olivia.
Maybe that’s why I get a wild idea when Ryan Seacrest tells us there’s only two minutes to midnight, even though I lost our bet.
Maybe that’s why my grin splits my face when I straighten off my spot on the wall, catching Olivia’s wildly anxious gaze.
She’s looking at me, then at Cara, then down the hall.
I see the apprehension, see the way she spins, hands in the air like she has no idea what to do.
She starts slipping off toward the hallway, but Cara grips her arm, yanking her back.
Olivia’s chocolate gaze locks on mine.
And suddenly there’s only thirty seconds to midnight.
And I start moving.
And she’s still freaking the fuck out, feet cemented in place, eyes gigantic saucers that only grow rounder with each stride I take, eating the distance between us.
Fifteen seconds.
“Carter,” Olivia whispers, her fingers crawling around my wrists when I take her face in my hands. “What are you…what are you doing?” Her eyes bounce between mine, full ruby lips parting to let her tongue peek out, swiping across, getting ready, because she knows exactly what I’m about to do.
Ten.
“I-I…Carter, I—”
“Relax, Ollie.” I rake my fingers through her soft curls, and when I bracket her jaw in my hand, I swear I hear her heart thumping.
Five.
My thumb skims her lower lip. Her eyes flicker. “Can I?”
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
“Yes.”