by Cole Lepley
Ollie smiles as he slides onto a barstool at the counter. “You know I’m not picky.” He winks at me. “Whatever you make will be just fine.” He bites his lip and his eyes light up. “Do you have that twisty garlic bread you bake in the oven? That shit is bomb with spaghetti.”
I laugh. “I doubt it. I can butter you a piece of sandwich bread.”
He shakes his head. “No, that won’t work. I can call my mom to run some over.”
“You’re joking!”
“No,” he says, completely serious. “I know she keeps a stockpile in the freezer downstairs. She like fucking hoards it or something.”
Setting the box of noodles down on the counter, I start to laugh. I can’t help it. “You haven’t changed much, have you?”
The question wasn’t meant to be malicious, but his face falls a little anyway. He tries to brush it off with a short laugh. “Yeah, I guess not.”
Silence falls between us once more, so I turn to the stove and get the water boiling. I stare into the steamy pot until his voice cuts through the air again.
“Did you sell the house already?”
My body stiffens with the subject I desperately wanted to avoid. I hate lying but telling the truth doesn’t feel right either. So I shoot for somewhere in between.
“It’s not ready yet. There’s a lot of paperwork involved, and we have a few more steps to get through before it can go on the market.”
“Are you going to stay here until it does?”
Yes. “I’m not sure. Depends how long it takes.”
“Can I see you while you are here?”
This makes me turn around, the pot bubbling behind me. “What do you mean by that? Like, you want to fool around?”
“No,” he says immediately, his brow creasing. “Not like that at all.” He puts his hand on his chest. “When I said I miss you, it’s you I miss. I want to spend time with you, talk to you. That’s what I want.”
I turn back to the stove to momentarily ignore him. I need a second to process what he’s asking. After stirring the noodles into the water and adjusting the burner, I take another breath before facing him.
“So, you want to be friends?”
“Well, yeah…I guess so. That’s how it started before, and I thought maybe this time we could do it right.”
I laugh once. “And what would ‘doing it right’ mean to you?”
“Simple,” he says, and then his voice dips lower. “At the end of it, you’re still mine.”
Despite every attempt to not let his words affect me, my mouth goes dry. “What if I never let you be more than a friend? What if that’s as far this goes?”
Ollie studies my face for a moment, and I pray my uncertainty doesn’t show through. He can’t know how weak I already am, and we’ve barely spent any time together at all.
After another beat, he shrugs. “I’d rather have you in my life as my friend, than be nothing and never see you again.”
He sounds sincere and it makes me less hesitant than I was a second ago. But I need to set boundaries.
I lean closer and point at his chest with a serious expression. “If we’re going to do this, we need to have some ground rules.”
“I get that.”
I sputter a laugh. “Do you? If we’re going to be friends, then we need to act like friends. A lot of what we used to do will be off limits.”
“That’s fine,” he says and then smiles. “But I want you to know that I routinely make out with my friends. So that’s probably going to happen.”
I huff. “You’re still ridiculous.”
“It’s true.” He nods back to his house. “Ask Hunter, he’ll tell you.”
This makes me laugh harder. “You probably do make out with Hunter. It would explain a lot.”
Ollie pretends to be offended. “He wishes.”
As amusing as this conversation is, it’s already making me question considering this deal. Acting the way we did is what got us in this situation in the first place, and I know from experience how easy it is to get lost in him.
I shake my head. “I’m serious, Ollie. If you want to do this, we can’t cross any lines. At least not until we’re both on the same page with what it means.” His lips curl up, but I raise a finger and continue. “And I’m not saying that’s what’s going to happen. I’m not promising you anything.”
He rises from his stool and walks around the counter. His arm reaches behind me and shuts off the burner on the stove, before taking my hand.
He takes a breath and then looks me dead in the eye. “Charlie, I swear I’m capable of respecting any kind of boundaries you need to set with me. I’m just asking for the chance to show you I’ve changed.”
Even though this is probably the worst idea ever, I nod anyway.
“Yeah?”
The hopeful smiles on his face breaks away any speck of resolve I have left, and I smile right back at him. “Yeah.”
Chapter 15
Perfect
Oliver - Then
It’s the last summer before senior year and it’s going way too fast. I’ve been busy with football, which took a lot of time away from what I really wanted to focus on—Charlie.
As far as I know, she and Liam still haven’t slept together. I’m sure it’s ridiculous to even be worried about it, considering the things that I do, but I can’t help it. I don’t want that experience to happen with him. With someone she doesn’t actually love. I want more for her, even if I can’t be the one she has it with.
I have practice twice a day until our first game, and the guys are starting to notice I’m distracted. We’ve been running the same play for over twenty minutes now, and I can’t seem to get the ball in the right place. I clamp by jaw down on my mouth guard and set up for another run. Jimmy Wilson, my running back, gets in position, and I take a deep breath before bending down.
“Green eighty! Green eighty! Hut-hut!”
The ball flies into my hands, and I grip it tightly before drawing my arm back to throw a pass. Jimmy takes off down the field and hits his mark, but the ball falls short, and once again the whistle blows.
“Fuck,” I mutter, and catch Hunter looking at something off the field uneasily.
My eyes follow his and my stomach instantly drops. Someone is standing beside coach and it’s obvious he’s angry. That someone happens to be my father.
Typically, parents aren’t allowed on the field during practices, but no one questions Mason Monroe. Once a star quarterback himself, he takes football as seriously as he takes his business—in a lot of ways, maybe more. Since he’s convinced himself football is the only thing I’m actually good at, he’s a little more than pissed at my current performance.
I can feel the glare from behind his aviators when he crooks his finger at me. With a heavy sigh, I level a helpless look at Hunter before jogging over to him. He grabs the facemask on the front of my helmet when I get close enough, and drags me toward him.
“What are you doing out there, huh?” When I don’t answer quick enough, he slaps the side of my helmet. “Answer me.”
“I’m sorry, I’m just a little distr—”
“Don’t give me that bullshit,” he seethes, interrupting me. “You want to ruin your ride? Scouts will be here in a few weeks. Do you really want to fuck that up because you’re worried about shit that doesn’t matter, when you need to get your head in the game?”
You know what also doesn’t matter? My ride. This isn’t about money, it’s about winning. It’s about being the best at something because status is more important than happiness. If I don’t get recruited next year, I’ll still go to college. Fuck, my father could pay my tuition to any school in the country without batting an eye. But I know better than to question him.
I shake my head quickly. “No, Sir.”
He points his finger at my face. “You need to focus. I’ve seen you run that play flawlessly a million times.”
“I’m sorry,” I say again.
He laug
hs once. “Don’t give me sorry. Get out there and fucking do it right.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He gives a stiff nod toward the field. “Go. Don’t embarrass me.”
My jaw is clenched tight and the adrenaline that usually runs through me is replaced with rage, but I don’t argue. I turn to rejoin my team and I don’t let the anger show on my face. Living up to perfection is what I’m supposed to do. Monroe’s don’t lose, and they never show weakness. Anger is a weakness, fear is a weakness—love is a weakness. Those are all emotions that you’re not supposed to feel. So I don’t.
Hunter watches me carefully, waiting for the freak out. But I don’t let it come. I calmly call the play again, and this time, I don’t fuck it up.
Almost every night, I spend my evenings with Charlie. Sometimes she comes over to swim or we go for a ride on the four-wheelers, but tonight I’m too exhausted for any of that.
My body is drained after I shower and change into a T-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts. I take my time walking down to her house and even use the front door because I’m not sure I have enough energy to climb up to her window.
She’s lying on her bed, scrolling on her phone, when I knock on her half-open door. I peek my head inside and she smiles. Her entire face lights up like I’m the most important person in the world. She has no idea how much that means to me. To feel like I’m important to someone. It’s not something I’m used to.
“Hey,” she says brightly. She sits up and scoots to the edge of the bed, tossing her phone on the nightstand. Her expression shifts to concern when she eyes my posture, and she frowns. “Practice was brutal, huh?”
I let out a bitter laugh and step inside the room, closing the door behind me. “You could say that.”
“You want to watch a movie?”
I nod, flopping down on the bed beside her, and leaning back to rest on her pillow. “Just let me close my eyes for a sec.”
The sound of her laugh fills the room after my heavy eyes drift shut. I reach out my arm blindly for her. “Lay with me. Watch whatever you want while I rest for a minute.”
The bed dips beside me, but she stays out of reach. “You could have stayed home and slept if you’re tired. I feel bad you came over.”
I peek my eyes open and give her a look. “Get over here and relax with me.” My fingers inch across the comforter until they reach the bottom of her cotton shorts. She smiles at me before sliding over and curling into my chest. I tilt my head down and smirk at her. “See? Comfy, right?”
She buries her face into my chest and then sighs, turning so she can watch the television. The theme song of some realty show starts to play, and I let my eyes close once more. When her hand begins moving through my hair, my body gets tingly and every over-worked muscle relaxes. She feels like home to me, and it brings me peace.
The next time I open my eyes, it’s dark outside. The room is silent and a slight breeze blows through her open window. I watch the way the cool air makes the skin on Charlie’s bare leg prickle while it’s wrapped around me. Sometime after I fell asleep, our bodies became entangled. I’m not complaining, but I remember what happened the last time we crossed a line. I’m not willing to risk my friendship over some intense cuddling.
I pull back a little and rest my head on the pillow facing her. It only takes a second for her lips to curl up around the edges, her eyes still closed.
“Oliver, why are you watching me sleep?”
I laugh softly and brush her hair behind her ear so I can see her entire face. “I’m sorry I passed out so hard. I really wanted to hang out with you last night.”
Charlie’s eyes flutter open and her hand reaches over and laces with mine. “You did.”
“Yeah, but I was sleeping.”
“That’s okay,” she whispers. “At least you were here.”
My eyes drift down to our hands and I rub my thumb along hers. “Good, because I really miss you. Football is fucking intense right now.”
“I’m sure you’re doing amazing. You always do.”
I shake my head, still not meeting her eyes. “No, I’m not. My dad’s been riding my ass about it, too.” When I look up at her, she has that perceptive look on her face. She knows when I’m fucked up about something without me needing to say it. “Scouts will be here soon, and I want to play for LSU.”
She smiles. “Then you will. There’s no way they’d pass you up. You led the team to win State last year.”
I shrug my shoulders. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean anything. I can still fuck it up if I play like shit.”
Charlie leans over and grabs the sides of my face so I have to look her. “You won’t fuck it up, Ollie.” Her lips catch mine briefly before she pulls back. “I believe in you.”
Her declaration is nice and all, but I can only focus on one thing—she kissed me. I decide I can’t let this go. When she releases her hold on me, I hook my arm around her waist and draw her closer.
Her eyes are wider when I lean down to her face. “I thought I wasn’t allowed to kiss you anymore.”
She looks down for a beat and then back to me. “I know, but you looked like you needed it.”
She seriously has no idea how true this is.
I’m not usually one to take advantage of a situation, but I don’t want it to stop. I gently run my hand down to cup her chin and inch my face closer to hers.
“You’re right. I do.”
Her breath hitches before she leans the rest of way in and presses her lips to mine. She kisses me slow at first, pecking lightly over my lips. When she slides her tongue in my mouth, I lose the rest of my composure.
My hands threads through her hair, drawing her into me as close as she can get. I kiss her breathlessly for so long my jaw begins to ache. I’m not sure what made us so vulnerable in this moment, but I don’t regret it.
I know we’ll eventually have to talk about what this all means and where it’s supposed to go. But right now, I’m exactly where I want to be.
Chapter 16
Butterflies
Charlotte - Now
“So, how many times have you let him kiss you so far?”
Scarlett laughs after asking the question, and I stifle a groan. She called while I was getting ready, and now I’m sitting on the front porch swing waiting for Ollie to pick me up. It’s been four days since I agreed to try and be friends again, and this is the first time we’ve made real plans to hang out. I also made the unfortunate mistake of disclosing this information to my sister.
“He hasn’t kissed me at all.” My voice is distant, and I twist a long strand of hair around my finger while staring across the street. “I think he’s wanted to, though.”
She laughs again. “Of course he has. To be trying so hard means he obviously still has feelings for you.”
“Is he trying though? I mean, yeah, he’s sorry, but that doesn’t mean he’s changed. He was sorry a million times. It never meant shit.”
“True, but you guys aren’t seventeen anymore. Guys take longer to figure things out. It usually doesn’t happen until after high school and after four drunken years in a frat house. That’s how they discover the meaning of life and learn to start appreciating what they have.”
It’s my turn to laugh. “And when does this happen? During a beer pong tournament?”
“I think so.”
“Okay,” I say with heavy sarcasm.
I stand to check my hair in the reflection of the window, suddenly feeling nervous. Ollie didn’t tell me where we were going. He just said to dress casual because there’s a possibly of getting dirty. I could feel the smirk through his text. He thinks he’s so clever.
“You worried?”
Scarlett must be able to read the anxiety in my silence and there’s concern laced in her voice. I sigh deeply. “Yeah, I’m freaking out. This is a mistake.”
She pauses for a beat. “You don’t have to do this for me. If this is going to hurt you, then I want you to come home. Evan just got
a pay bump, so I think we may be able to swing it in a couple months.”
I shake my head even though she can’t see. “No, you don’t need to feel that way. It’s not the only reason I’m doing this.”
“Do you mean that?”
My chest tightens. “Yes. I’m already second guessing myself, but I can’t deny how good it feels to see him. My heart missed him way more than I’d like to admit.”
“I think you just did.”
Before I can discredit her comment, the loud rumble of an engine roars in the distance. I can’t help but smile because I know exactly what he’s doing. Moments later, Ollie comes riding across the street on two wheels, and screeches to a stop in the center of my driveway with a grin.
“You ready?” he calls to me, the grin on his face spreading wider.
I hold up a finger and lean into the phone. “I gotta go, Scar. I’ll call you later, okay?”
She laughs. “Have fun.”
I end the call without responding and shove my phone in my back pocket. When I start walking toward him, Ollie reaches back for a helmet and hands it to me when I make it to the edge of the sidewalk.
“You wanna take a ride with me?”
The glint of mischief in his eyes is so heartbreakingly familiar. It makes my chest squeeze. I nod and take the helmet from his hand and then strap it on. When I climb on behind him, my heart beats faster as I wrap my arms around his waist.
His hand closes over mine and he tilts his head back to me. “Comfy back there?”
I smile, nodding. “Yeah, I’m ready.”
He heads out slowly around the back of my house and to the trail that leads into the woods. He picks up the pace, gliding through the trees and down the hill toward Cherry Bridge. It’s the only part of the road we have to cross before we reach the orchard.
It’s a place we used to go to often when we were young. Before Ollie was old enough to drive a four-wheeler, we took our pedal bikes along the path and chased each other under the trees until the sun went down. When we got older, the days usually progressed with roaming hands and stolen kisses beneath the moonlit sky.
