“I know. I wanted to.” I set the pastries on her kitchen counter. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m fine.”
“Olivia.”
She sighs, setting the coffee down. “I’m terrified. I barely slept. And I keep thinking about that message, wondering if it’s real or if someone’s trying to set me up for something worse.”
“That’s why I’m coming with you.”
“I know. And I’m grateful. But Carter—” She stops, biting her lip. “About last night. What I said—”
“We don’t have to talk about it right now.”
“Yes, we do.” She moves closer, and I force myself to stay still. To let her come to me. “I was scared. I am scared. And I pushed you away because that’s what I do when things get hard. Maya called me an idiot last night, and she was right.”
“You’re not an idiot.”
“I am. Because I have this incredible man who’s willing to fight for me, and I keep telling him to leave.” Her eyes glisten. “I don’t want space, Carter. I never wanted space. But didn’t want you to get hurt because of me.”
“Too late.” I close the distance between us. “I’m already hurt. But not because of the scandal or the media or any of that bullshit. I’m hurt because you keep trying to protect me by pushing me away, and that’s the one thing I can’t handle.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing.” I cup her face, forcing her to look at me. “Just promise me something.”
“What?”
“That you’ll stop running. Whatever happens today, whatever we find out from this meeting, we face it together. No more pushing me away. No more trying to protect me from consequences I’m willing to accept.”
She nods, tears spilling over. “I promise.”
“Good.” I kiss her forehead, then her cheeks, tasting salt. “Now eat something. We’ve got an hour before we need to leave.”
We sit at her small kitchen table, sharing pastries and coffee, talking about nothing and everything. She tells me about Maya’s visit, about the wine and ice cream and the harsh truths her best friend delivered. I tell her about Derek’s attempt at comfort and how I threw him out.
“He means well,” she says, picking at a croissant.
“He’s an idiot.”
“He’s your friend.”
“He’s an idiot who happens to be my friend.” I lean back, studying her. “You look tired.”
“So do you.”
“I am. Spent all night thinking about you.”
Her eyes soften. “Carter—”
“I know we’re supposed to be taking things slow. Giving you space to figure things out. But I need you to know something.” I reach across the table, taking her hand. “I’m not going anywhere. Whatever happens with your job, with my career, with any of this, I’m in. Completely.”
“What if it doesn’t work? What if we can’t fix this?”
“Then we’ll deal with it. Together.” I squeeze her hand. “But I’m not walking away from you, Olivia. Not now. Not ever.”
She stands abruptly, rounding the table. Before I can react, she’s in my lap, arms around my neck, kissing me like she’s drowning and I’m air.
I kiss her back just as desperately, hands sliding into her hair, pulling her closer. She tastes like coffee and sugar and something that’s purely her, and I never want to let go.
