Chapter 37
Reed
DECLAN: Classic Eastwood. Eating your words.
COLE: I cannot believe this.
COLE: Actually—wait. I can believe this, because we literally both warned you this would happen.
ME: Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.
I sit back in my office chair in the penthouse, my feet up on the desk, my phone pings in my hand. I just told Cole and Declan about the situation between me and Olivia, and they’ve both been giving me shit for the past fifteen minutes.
Giving me shit is the guys’ favorite pastime, but this time, at least, they’ve earned it. After all, Cole does have a point—they did both see this coming.
DECLAN: Ok, but in all seriousness, man—congrats.
COLE: Oh, yeah, one hundred percent, we’re happy for you.
ME: Thanks guys. I appreciate that.
DECLAN: It’s an incredible thing to find the right woman. Worth celebrating. I know how that feels firsthand.
COLE: Btw, Riley is totally thrilled about this, which is a plus.
I chuckle at that—yeah, I bet she is. The double-date potential just went through the roof. She’ll definitely be seeing a lot more of Olivia now.
I start to type out a reply, but pause at the sound of Olivia’s voice from the other room.
“Shit!”
I lower my phone, frowning, and get to my feet. When I emerge into the living room, I find Olivia sitting cross-legged on the couch. Her laptop is open in front of her, and her head is resting in her hands. She’s scowling, clearly frustrated.
“Hey—everything okay out here?”
She looks up, heaving a sigh, and gestures to the laptop.
“I was looking into the steps for starting a business. Trying to figure out how to set up my own domain name, and stuff. But I ended up going down a rabbit hole reading articles about taxes for small businesses, and now I’m just… ” She trails off, shaking her head.
“Overwhelmed?” I guess.
“Yes. That.” She bites her lip, staring at whatever is plaguing her on the laptop’s screen. “This is just crazy, isn’t it? Like… it feels like it’ll never be worth it. There’s no way I can succeed at this.”
“What are you talking about? Of course you can.”
“That’s a nice platitude, but… what if I can’t? Running a business seems so complicated. What if it all goes to shit? What if…”
“Hey.” I cross the room and sink down onto the couch beside her.
Over her shoulder, I can see the article open on her computer—Eleven Major Mistakes First-Time Business Owners Make.
Gently, I reach over and close the laptop, hiding the article from view.
“This may be complicated, but it’s still worth doing. ”
“Are you sure?” She looks at me worriedly, her eyes round. “All of these articles make it sound like I’m going to fuck it up. One of them said that one-fifth of all small businesses fail within the first two years. That’s scary!”
“Of course it is,” I say, nodding. “It’s terrifying. But it’s worth taking the leap. If you want something bad enough, then it’s worth the risks.”
Over the past few months, I’ve become more aware of that fact than ever. I could be talking about business… or I could be talking about the two of us, the leap we’re taking together.
She breathes in deeply through her nose, seeming somewhat mollified. “Okay. Yes. You’re right. I just… I have no idea where to start. There’s way too much to do.”
“There’s no need to jump straight into the deep end,” I point out. “Just start slow. I’ll help you. Let’s just start with the website, okay? Build it up little by little.”
She nods. “Okay. If you say so.”
“Listen, I know you can do this.”
“Well, that’s a nice vote of confidence.” She chuckles, her cheeks flushing, and adds, “Are you really ready to talk me off ledges like this for the rest of our lives?”
I grin at her. “Of course I am. I like doing it.”
Her smile widens, becoming more genuine, and she leans against me. I let my hand run through her hair once before tilting her chin up and kissing her gently.
I try to go in for the second kiss, but she stops me. She pulls away, and I make a quiet sound of dissent in my throat.
“Sorry,” she says sheepishly. “I’ll be right back. I just remembered that I have something for you.”
“For me?”
“Yeah.” She heads toward the hallway, shooting me a wink over her shoulder. “For you.”
“What is it?”
“I thought I was the one who did the surprising around here,” I call after her as she disappears around the corner.
Her voice floats through the hallway: “Just be patient for five seconds!”
With a sigh, I lean back on the couch, smiling. After a few moments, Olivia reappears, grinning from ear to ear, with a flat, beige box in her hands.
“For you,” she says, handing it to me. “A belated Christmas gift.”
I take the box, raising an eyebrow at her as I pry the lid off.
Inside, folded expertly, is a thick, beautifully-knit black aran sweater.
The yarn is woven together into braided patterns throughout.
It’s classy enough that I could probably wear it to work, but simple enough that I could wear it anywhere.
“Did you make this?” I say, stunned. I hold up the sweater, marveling at it.
“Of course!”
“It’s incredible.”
And it really is. It’s so well made that I can only describe the work as professional. There are no visible mistakes, no loose threads.
“Try it on,” she says eagerly. “I want to make sure it fits.”
I’m more than happy to oblige. I slip it over my shoulders. It fits like a glove; I’m blown away by how perfect it is.
How did she manage this? It’s unreal.
“Oh, you definitely have to start a business,” I tell her. “I’m glad I bought you that storefront. That was a good investment, because the world needs these sweaters.”
She beams, her face reddening with pleasure at the compliment. “You think so?”
“You’re gonna blow up. Mark my words.”
She laughs, waving a hand. “You’re gonna make me blush.”
“I’m serious,” I say. “This is amazing.”
She wiggles her shoulders in a little victory dance, a goofy gesture that makes my heart swell.
And suddenly, before I can think about it, the words roll off my tongue. “I love you.”
She freezes midway through her dance, her eyes flying wide. “What did you say?” she whispers, stunned.
“I love you,” I repeat, on purpose this time. Emboldened by the way her eyes start to shine, I continue, “I love you more than I could’ve ever imagined loving someone. You’re the only woman I want to wake up next to, and the only one I want to fall asleep with at night.”
She lifts her hand to her mouth, but I keep going.
“I love absolutely everything about you,” I say. “I wouldn’t change a single thing.”
For a few seconds, she’s motionless. Then she steps closer to me, pressing herself against the soft, woolen sweater. She wraps her arms around me.
“I love you, too,” she says, her voice small.
I twine my fingers into her hair, holding her close. I feel like my heart might explode, or like the warmth inside me will come spilling out of my chest.
I sink back down onto the couch, pulling her with me, and let my lips do the rest of the talking. I kiss her neck, her jawbone, her cheeks. I can feel her breath close to my ear.
Right now, in this apartment with Olivia, wearing my new sweater and kissing the fuck out of my fake-almost-real fiancé, I feel like I’m on top of the world.
Like I have absolutely everything.