One thing hadn’t changed: Olivia still made me laugh.
“And over in the East wing, you’ll find our home’s private theater.” She drew ‘theater’ out to three syllables and did this sweeping gesture with her hands as she showed off the small living room with its faded couches and small TV.
“Very nice,” I said, nodding and stroking my chin as I pretended to study the room critically. I did my best impersonation of my dad when she was giving a tour of our house. “All state of the art technology, I hope.”
She scoffed, her expression offended. “But of course.”
We stood there for a second and shared a goofy grin. It was the same goofy grin I’d been wearing ever since I’d talked my parents into letting me come here. I couldn’t describe what it felt like to have it reflected back to me. Olivia never made me feel alone--which is the state I was always in when I was around my parents or their friends.
Her cheeks flushed which caused my heart to pick up speed. Man, she was beautiful. Even prettier than in her pictures. Probably because she wasn’t crossing her eyes or sticking out her tongue. But it wasn’t only that. In her pictures, she was cute, and the girl had always been objectively pretty with her dark, almond-shaped eyes, her full lips, her heart-shaped face, and that perfectly wild hair.
She’d never not been pretty. But standing here with her now...alone. She was so much more beautiful than I’d remembered. So much more than any photo could ever capture. Olivia had this energy about her that was impossible to describe, but that affected everyone around her.
At least, it affected me.
Right now it made my chest tight and my veins fill with fire. Crap. Had I really thought I could stay here with her and keep my distance?
Her head tilted to the side as her smile broadened.
It took everything in me not to reach for her again. This time, without her friends and little brother around, I could hold her close and bury my face in her hair. I could have her in my arms and tell her—
“Derek!” Her mom’s voice cut into my thoughts and made us both jump. Before I could say anything, her mom was tackling me with a hug.
“It’s so good to see you again, Mrs. Vargas,” I said. I meant it. This woman had been a staple in my life growing up. Basically, my second mother. And I’d missed the heck out of her when they’d all left.
She pulled back and cupped my cheeks in her hands. “Look how much you’ve grown. I can’t believe it.”
“And you look exactly the same.”
She laughed and patted my cheek. “Ever the charmer, just like your father.”
Olivia and I followed behind her into the kitchen where Tank was already eating, and Mr. Vargas got up from the table to give me a hug.
This family was big on the hugging. Mine? Not so much. But even after several years away from their touchy-feely brand of love, it didn’t feel weird at all. In fact, it felt great to be back in their warm, welcoming family. The house itself might have been different, but it still felt like home.
“Derek, I hope you’re hungry because I’ve made your favorite,” Mrs. Vargas said.
My favorite these days was sushi but since Mrs. Vargas hadn’t seen me since junior high, that meant—
“Cheeseburger helper,” Mrs. Vargas announced as she handed me a bowl and fork.
“Wow, thanks,” I said.
Before I could say anything more, Olivia had grabbed her bowl along with my arm and was pulling me back toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms. “We’re gonna eat in my room, ‘kay?” She didn’t wait for an answer, and her grip was surprisingly strong.
Actually, she’d always been strong. I was the one who’d been a weakling. I let her lead me down the hallway as my mind rushed back to all those wrestling matches and stupid competitions.
I had a feeling wrestling matches would be a whole new experience now that we were grown up, and the mere thought of it had my blood burning again.
She pulled me into a room that had purple everywhere. Which made it obviously hers. “Still your favorite color, I see.”
Her mom’s voice interrupted. “Olivia, keep that door open when you have a boy in there.”
I couldn’t help it. Heat crept up my cheeks at the implication in Mrs. Vargas’s comment. Did she think that I was going to make a move? Did Olivia think that too? I turned to her to see if she was just as embarrassed and caught her rolling her eyes as she leaned out into the hallway. “Relax, Mom, it’s just Derek.”
She shook her head and grinned at me when she came back into the room, and I tried not to acknowledge the sinking feeling in my gut.
It’s just Derek.
I guess that answered my question at least. She was definitely not expecting me to hit on her. I cleared my throat and made a point of looking everywhere but at Olivia as I got a grip.
Of course she didn’t expect me to make a move. As far as she was concerned, I was still Dorky Derek, the guy who wrote her long, nerdy emails and who’d made her take every quiz imaginable to determine which Harry Potter house she’d be in.
Ravenclaw, by the way. She always got Ravenclaw.
Me? Hufflepuff through and through.
This, of course, was not common knowledge amongst my new friends, and I sincerely hoped Olivia hadn’t shared these fun facts with her friends.
I still had the bowl of cheeseburger helper in one hand and was looking for a place to sit so I could eat it in this cramped bedroom when I felt her hand on my arm.
I tensed, and then cursed myself for it. I mean, it was a hand...on my arm. This was not exactly an intimate moment.
But we were in her bedroom. It was tight living quarters. Plus, she smelled so good, and she was so freakin’ gorgeous.
I was alone in a bedroom with Olivia Vargas.
My brain might have shorted out because next thing I knew I was being steered over to her desk and being shoved unceremoniously into her desk chair. Our new height difference meant that my knees were knocking against the desktop but considering it was the only chair in sight, I smiled my thanks.
“Eat, eat,” she said. “My mom would kill me if I didn’t let you eat your dinner.”
I happily obliged. It was funny. Even cheesy noodles with chunks of meat was better than I’d remembered.
She sat on the edge of her bed and for a few moments we ate together in companionable silence as the far-off sound of dishes clattering and her parents talking made a sort of cozy backdrop to this experience.
“I can’t believe you’re actually here. In my house,” she said, her eyes wide and lit with happiness.
My heart squeezed painfully in response. “I can’t believe it either. It’s crazy how three years can feel like an eternity and like…”
“No time at all,” she finished.
I nodded. “Exactly.”
She gave a sweet little sigh as she leaned forward. “Can I just say how happy I am to have my bestie back?”
I grinned. “Right back atcha.”
She shook her head with a laugh. “No, I mean it. This year more than ever I’ve been missing you like crazy.”
“Me too,” I said.
I wasn’t sure if she heard me as she stared down into her bowl of cheesy beefy goodness. “I love all of my friends here. I really do.”
“I know you do,” I reminded her. “I’ve been hearing about them for ages, remember?”
She laughed. “Oh, I remember. Writing to you is better than any journal.
“I knew which one was which with just a glance,” I said, rifling through the little snapshot pictures I’d taken of her friends in my mind.
“Well, yeah,” she said in a ‘no duh’ sort of tone. “That’s because I’ve sent pictures.”
“I still would have known,” I said with full confidence. “Pretty sure I could pick Bianca out of any crowd after all your stories about her diva attitude.”
“Well…” She dragged out, causing my ears to perk. This was never good. “They’ve heard a lot about you, too.”
I winced. “Not everything, I hope.”
“Ummm.” She shoved a fork full of food in her mouth, and I cracked up at her look of fake innocence.
“Great,” I said, still laughing. “Do they know exactly how much of a dork I am?”
She shrugged. “Sorry not sorry?”
I laughed again, but my mind was racing with a question I wasn’t sure how to phrase. How much do they know? Do they know who I am? That sounded weird. Like I thought too much of myself or something. I shifted in my seat as I tried to figure out how to wade into this new territory.
Back when we were younger, who my parents were didn’t matter at all. It didn’t now, either. That was one of the things I’d missed most about being with Olivia. When she looked at me, she saw me. Just me.
I freakin’ loved that about her.
“Since you know so much about my friends, I’m sure you can guess why I’m extra happy to have you back in my life, and not just on the other end of a computer screen,” she said.
I nodded. We’d talked all about her changing social circle in emails and lately in texts. “You’re still feeling like the odd man out?”
She nodded, and my heart lurched. I hated seeing her unhappy in any way, shape, or form. She was such a naturally effusive, caring, passionate person; a dejected Olivia was just...wrong.
For the last three years, I’d been helpless whenever she was down. Aside from pep talks on the phone when she failed a dance audition or an email version of a morale boost when that crush she’d had didn’t like her back, there wasn’t much more I could do.
Until now. “Hey,” I said, reaching out to nudge her knee. “You’ve got me now. No more third wheel because I’ll be your plus one.”
Her answering smile made everything right. Seriously, everything. Suddenly, the birds were chirping, the sun was out, and the world was nothing but sunshine and roses.
All because I’d made her smile.
I had to drop my fork into my bowl because there was no way I could swallow. I couldn’t even breathe.
Her gaze was fixed on mine, and she set her bowl down too. “Hey Derek…”
I arched my brows at the change in her demeanor. Her expression was somewhere between mischievous, flirtatious, and mysterious.
I freakin’ loved this look.
“There’s something I’ve been wanting to say to you ever since I saw you there on the doorstep lookin’ all…” She waved a hand in my direction, and the appreciation in her gaze as she eyed me from head to toe had my chest swelling with pride.
I wasn’t normally a vain guy, but right now I was so flippin’ glad I’d spent all that time in the weight room. It was more than worth it to have her looking at me like this. Like I was a guy, not just another one of her girlfriends.
Now she wanted to tell me something. My mouth went dry, and my hands felt numb as my heart lurched. “Yeah?”
Her teasing little smile was so freakin’ cute, I couldn’t look away. “I carried a watermelon,” she said.
I stared at her. She stared back. Her brows arched, and her eyes lit with hopeful anticipation.
“Um...what?”
“Derek!” Her head fell back as she groaned. “Dirty Dancing. Come on, that’s the best line. You have to remember.”
She shot up to her feet and reached behind me to pick up a DVD of the 80s classic. She waved it in my face, and oddly enough, that was the moment that I noticed the Dirty Dancing posters that were framed above her bed.
“Tell me you remember.”
“Do I remember the movie you made me watch eight thousand times?” I deadpanned. “Yeah, I think it sounds familiar.”
She beamed at me. “I knew you’d be up for it.”
“Up for what?”
“Movie night,” she said with exasperated impatience. Rightfully so. I was having a tough time keeping up with the conversation. Some part of my brain—the incredibly unhelpful part—was remembering the last time we’d watched this movie together.
It was in our family’s movie room in our old house, and we’d both known we didn’t have much time left before we both moved away. It had been a bittersweet night, but I’d spent the better part of it in a cold sweat as I’d debated whether or not I should lean over and kiss her.
I hadn’t. Obviously. Because back then, she hadn’t seen me like that, and I knew it. I hadn’t been so dumb as to think a kiss would magically make her see me as something other than a friend.
And now?
She was dancing around the room, clearing our dishes, and giving me instructions on how I had exactly ten minutes to dump my luggage in the room I’d be sharing with Tank and then she was starting movie night with or without me.
It was official. Some things really hadn’t changed between us. And the way Olivia saw me? That was clearly one of them.
I got to my feet and followed her to my new bedroom.
It was for the best. Definitely.
Anything more between us was just as impossible now as it had been then.
“Tick Tock, Taylor,” she called as she danced out the door humming that last song from Dirty Dancing.
Yup. This was definitely for the best.