Page 23 of Inked Nights

He didn’t know what he was going to do about Olivia, but he knew he needed to do something…before he lost her and perhaps himself forever.

And before he could think himself into a headache, his phone buzzed, and he groaned. It was like the woman knew exactly when to call in order to make Derek hate himself even more.

He answered on the third ring. “Mom.”

“I want to make cookies, but I’m out of peanut butter. Can you pick some up?”

It was seven at night, and the woman wanted to make cookies. Didn’t even think about if Derek might be working or if he had plans. But that was his mother now, and there was nothing he could do about it or he’d risk losing her forever.

“I bought you some last week,” Derek said. “And it’s late, Mom. You should be relaxing before bed.” It wasn’t late, but it felt like it for his mother.

“I’m the mother. You’re the son. You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

Jesus. “I know, Mom. But it’s late. Get ready for bed and we can make cookies tomorrow if you want.”

“Never mind, I don’t want to make cookies now.”

Then she hung up, and Derek looked at his phone, wondering how exactly he was going to deal with his mother for the rest of his life. It wasn’t always this bad. He could go weeks without hearing from her because she’d ingrained herself into society and a healthy life. But, sometimes, it was like how it had been this past month.

He’d never tell his mother about Olivia. Ever.

Olivia didn’t need that in her life.

And that was just one more reason it might be good for him to never see Olivia again. The thing was, though, he wanted to see her again. Wanted her in his life. He just wasn’t sure if he could handle the cost or what that cost might even be after he thought more about it.

His mother would always be a part of his life. He was the only one left for her, and she was still his mom no matter what had happened in the past. That meant if he had Olivia in his life, as well, there would always be that tension. It would be something they’d either work through or not be strong enough for.

Olivia was already so damn strong, and now he was afraid that he’d be the weak one.

He’d once again thought himself into a corner, and knew that if he didn’t just breathe and maybe have a beer so he could relax, he’d end up with an ulcer and still no decisions.

Memories of every time he’d had Olivia in his arms and how he felt when he wanted her to know his name came back to him. He’d wanted her as part of his life. He’d wanted more. He’d gone tonight knowing that she might not be there but hoping she would be. He’d gone to ask her to be in his life and to be more than just a single night a month. He’d broken all the rules and had laid himself bare for her.

And though he hadn’t known every part of her—clearly—he’d known enough. The woman who had stood in front of him had been broken more than once, had shaken when she told him the truth. But she had told him. Had known that everything could and would change when she did so. He could never fault her for that.

And the thing was, he’d fallen for her. He fucking loved her and wanted more from her, wanted to give more of himself to her in the process. He just hoped that he’d be able to not think of Stacey when it came to Olivia.

So he would sit, and he would wait. He would think, and he would talk it out with himself until it all made sense. And if it never became clear, then he’d know his answer.

Because he hadn’t fallen for the idea of Olivia, he’d fallen for more. They knew more about each other than they’d planned because there had been no way not to learn more with four years’ worth of meetings. He knew the kind of woman she was, and knew that if he could find the strength to remember what they could have rather than what he’d lost, what they’d lost, they could be something great.

He just needed to get over himself and make that happen.

At least, he hoped.

Chapter Nine

Olivia had known the night before could’ve gone worse, but she wasn’t sure how. Well, Derek could have thrown something, could have yelled, could have done a lot more than he did. But that wasn’t him. He’d asked the questions he needed to, the ones that had come to him in the moment, then he’d left without a word, leaving her alone in the hotel room where any other time they would have shared each other’s bodies and learned little snippets of who they were.

Because she knew she’d been lying to herself when she thought she hadn’t given him a part of herself along the way. She might not have known every detail, but she knew the heart of him and knew she’d been transparent enough for him to learn the heart of her.

They’d known each other despite the rules.

She’d fallen for him against her subconscious wishes and surely against his, as well.

And he’d left. But it wasn’t as if she could blame him. She’d gone through what felt like her entire life learning not to blame herself—at least not entirely—for what had happened with Stacey, but seeing Derek again, knowing who he was, had forced her to revert back to the young girl who only blamed herself.

She’d had therapy, she’d talked through her feelings until she was a wrung-out shell learning to fill herself back up with a new version of who she could and should be. But one breath, one look at Derek, and she was back to the girl with daisy chains on her head, chasing butterflies with her best friend. Then, the next breath, she was no longer the woman who had found her strength, but the younger woman, the child, who couldn’t sleep without screaming.