A Love Like Ours

by Micalea Smeltzer

  Ari takes a seat beside Liam, tossing her legs across his lap. He smiles and leans over to kiss her. She relaxes into his touch and it makes me happy to see her look happy.

  Ollie looks over at me and pats the space beside him on the couch.

  I bite my lip. I’d planned to head upstairs and shower before heading to bed, but sitting with Ollie and my friends sounds like an even better idea. We used to hang out all the time before everything happened and I miss the normalcy.

  I jump over the back of the couch and tumble down onto the cushion beside Ollie.

  He grins. “Hey, stranger.”

  “Stranger?” I echo. “Funny, because you look awfully familiar.”

  “Really? Who do I remind you of?”

  “My fiancé.”

  Ari gasps and Liam mutters, “What the fuck?”

  My eyes widen as I look at Ollie. We both slowly turn to look at our friends on the opposite side of the couch.

  “Surprise?” I say, but it comes out sounding like a question.

  “Oh, my God!” Ari cries and throws herself at me. I’m not prepared for her tackle hug and we fall off the couch and onto the floor. We disentangle and she gives me a proper hug—well, as proper as she can give with us sitting on the floor. “I’m so happy for you.” When she pulls away, I can see the tears in her eyes, but for once, they’re tears of happiness.

  “Congrats, man.” Liam fist bumps Ollie. “It’s about time.”

  Ari grabs my hand and her brows crinkle in confusion. “Where’s your ring?”

  I snort. “This is us; do you really think he’d get me a ring?”

  “Hey,” Ollie groans, offended.

  I smile at him. “You know me. A ring isn’t important to me.”

  “Dude.” Liam smacks Ollie’s arm—harder than necessary, might I add. “You have to get the girl a ring.”

  I laugh. “Seriously, it’s not important.”

  Ollie frowns. “Nah, everybody’s right. I should’ve gotten a ring and done it right.”

  I snort. “Ollie, it wouldn’t be us if we didn’t do it wrong first.”

  He grins. “True.”

  “Ugh,” Ari groans. “You guys are too cute. I can’t stand it.”

  She hugs me again and stands up, offering me her hand to help me up.

  We move back to the couch and to our original spots. I snuggle close to Ollie and he opens his arms gladly to welcome me.

  “I’d love to help you plan the wedding,” Ari offers.

  I nod. “I’d like that.”

  I think the happy distraction of planning a wedding will be good for both of us.

  I tilt my head back and look up at Ollie. He brushes his lips against my forehead and his fingers rub against my thigh.

  “I love you,” I tell him.

  He kisses me and murmurs, “I love you too.”

  This life I live is crazy and imperfect but absolutely beautiful.

  Sunlight filters in between the cracks in the curtains as I slowly blink my eyes open. I reach out, my fingers grasping at the sheets as I search for Ollie. My fingers encounter the warmth of his skin and I roll toward him. He lets out a little groan in his sleep as the bed dips. I lay my head on his shoulder, draping my leg over his. He moves his hand to my hip and gives it a small squeeze. His eyes open and he blinks away the sleep.

  “Morning, cutie.” He grins and kisses the end of my nose.

  “Morning.”

  His arms wind around me and it feels good to let him hold me.

  “What’s on the agenda today?” he asks. “Do you know?”

  I laugh. “No, they never mentioned anything yesterday and I headed up to bed with you, so …” I trail off.

  “Right.” He chuckles. “Dumb question.”

  I roll over onto my stomach and prop my head on his stomach. “I want to get a mask.”

  “A mask?” He repeats, confused.

  “Yeah,” I laugh. “You know, a Venetian mask. It’s sort of a thing you have to do when you come to Venice.”

  “Oh, I remember now.” He wraps a strand of my hair around his finger and rubs his thumb against it. He does that a lot—touches my hair. I think maybe it reminds him that I’m here and I’m okay. I don’t know if it’s a real memory, or just a dream, but when I was in the hospital, I remember him rubbing my hair.

  “There’s a lot to do in Venice,” I muse. “Too much.”

  “Like what?” he prompts—though he already knows since we’ve talked about coming here many times.

  “Well,” I grin as I launch into my explanation. “We have to go on a gondola ride—that’s a must.”

  “Of course.” He smiles crookedly.

  “We have to visit the piazzo San Marco, and go to at least one art museum—”

  “At least one?” he interrupts me.

  “Well, if it were up to you, we wouldn’t go to any.”

  His chest shakes with laughter and my body moves up and down because of it. “That’s true,” he agrees. “Carry on.”

  “Um …” I bite my lip, thinking. “The food is supposed to be some of the best in the world, so we need to eat every hour.”

  He laughs again. “Every hour? And where are you going to fit that?” He pokes my side. “Huh? You’re too small to fit that much food in you.”

  “Don’t underestimate me.” I pout. “I can eat a lot.”

  “I know I can.” He pats his stomach a couple times, the sound echoing through the room.

  I trace my finger over his abs. “Sure looks like it.”

  He chuckles and lifts my chin with his finger so I have to look at him. “Don’t underestimate me, baby. I only work out so I can eat whatever I want.”

  “Like two bags of Cheetos within an hour?” I raise a brow.

  His lips spread into a grin. “Exactly.” Clearing his throat, he asks, “So after we gorge ourselves on food, then what do we do?”

  “Hmm … Well, after we eat all that food we’ll need dessert. I’m thinking some true Italian gelato and while we’re eating the gelato we’ll hop on a vaporetto to tour the Grand Canal.”

  “Say that again.” His eyes flash with a flicker of naughtiness.

  “What?” I ask. My tongue slips out to moisten my lips.

  “That V word.”

  “Vaporetto?”

  “You’re cute when you say Italian words—I like the accent.” He grins and his dimple flashes.

  I scoff. “I didn’t have an accent.”

  He laughs. “You so did.”

  “Vaporetto,” I say again. “Shit, you’re right.” I cover my mouth, horrified by the atrocious Italian accent I had while saying the word.

  “What exactly does vapototo mean?”

  I laugh and correct him. “Vaporetto is a waterbus.”

  “Man, not as exciting as I hoped.”

  “And what were you hoping for?”

  “Strippers.” I slap his chest lightly and he laughs. “I was kidding.”

  I sit up on my knees, biting my lip seductively. “The only naked woman you’re ever going to see for the rest of your life is me.”

  He grins and crosses his arms behind his head. “I’m okay with that.”

  I slowly ease the shirt I’m wearing up my body. It’s one of Ollie’s shirts and way too big for me. It falls past my hips, hiding my underwear. He hisses between his teeth when the pale-pink lacy material peeks out beneath the hem of the shirt. I lift it higher, moving slowly and swaying my hips, his eyes darken with lust and desire and it fills me with satisfaction to know that I make him feel that way.

  Soon my whole stomach is exposed and I keep going until the underside of my breasts show. Ollie looks like he’s ready to throw me down on the bed and fuck me until I can’t remember my name.

  And then I let the shirt drop back down and I shrug.

  “Show’s over.”

  “Like hell it is,” he growls lowly and grabs my hips. He rolls until I’m pinned on the bed, my head cushioned on the pillow.
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  I smile up at him. “What’s wrong? You didn’t like it?”

  He brushes his nose against mine. “I fucking loved it.”

  He takes my bottom lip between his teeth and bites softly, letting it go with a pop. My fingers wind into his hair and I tug him closer so I can kiss him. His lips burn against mine and my body arches up to meet his. I feel hot and achy all over, desperate to touch him.

  “Get your asses up! We have places to see and people to poke fun at!” Liam yells and bangs on the door. “Up! Up! Up!”

  “Cockblocker!” Ollie hollers back and buries his head into the crook of my neck. “I’m going to kill him.”

  I laugh and push lightly at his shoulder so he rolls off of me and flops onto the bed. “We can’t be too mad. We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him.”

  Ollie’s lips curl in distaste like that still isn’t a good enough reason.

  Liam starts knocking on the door again—hard enough that the ancient thing rattles on its hinges. “Are you guys up yet? I made fucking breakfast and you better eat it and like it before we go.”

  I raise a brow and look at Ollie as I fight a smile. “Did you hear that? He made fucking breakfast?”

  Ollie snorts. “I hope it’s edible.”

  “I heard that!” Liam shouts from somewhere down the hall.

  “I’m going to shower,” I tell Ollie as I tumble from the bed. “You better go check on Liam before he completely loses his mind. Maybe he has a fever or something.”

  “Because he made breakfast?”

  I raise a brow. “Liam doesn’t cook. At least, not for us.”

  Ollie snorts. “I think Ari’s turned him into a domestic goddess. We should get him a frilly pink apron for his birthday.”

  “Ooh, good idea,” I say seriously, making a mental note to get him just that.

  I head into the bathroom and shower as quickly as possible lest Liam come barging up into the room. As psychotic as he can be, I wouldn’t put it past him.

  The shower helps wake me up and I feel better equipped to start my day.

  I dress in a pair of jean shorts and a loose gray t-shirt that I tie on one end so a sliver of my stomach is exposed.

  Like usual, I don’t feel like messing with my hair so it ends up in a messy bun.

  I swipe on some mascara and a pink gloss and then dash out of the bathroom and downstairs.

  I find everyone in the kitchen sitting at the table.

  “Good, you’re here. I thought I was going to have to drag you down. Your breakfast is getting cold.” Liam brows are drawn tight and his lips turned down—clearly disgusted that I took more than twenty minutes to come down for breakfast.

  “Sorry,” I say, though I don’t know why I feel the need to apologize.

  I grab the plate of scrambled eggs and toast and sit down. There’s already a glass of orange juice on the table in the empty spot and I smile at Ollie, knowing that’s his doing. He dips his head in acknowledgement.

  “So what’s the first thing on the agenda for today?” I ask, taking a bite of egg. They’re surprisingly good and not at all rubbery like I was expecting. “Hey, these are pretty good,” I chime.

  Liam’s fork clangs against his plate. “Did you doubt my skills?”

  “Well …” I hedge.

  “Fair enough,” he complies. “I’m happy to have surprised you.”

  Ari snickers beside me. “I helped,” she whispers under her breath.

  Liam hears and grins. “She did,” he admits. “She’s a really good cook. She’s teaching me.”

  “Starting with the basics, I see.” I lift my toast in the air.

  Liam shrugs. “Gotta start somewhere.” Clearing his throat, he says, “As for what we’re doing today—first up is a gondola ride.”

  Ari claps her hands together excitedly and it fills me with happiness to see her happy.

  “I’m really excited about that.” Her cheeks are flushed and when she smiles at me, I can tell it’s genuine. There’s still a sadness in her blue eyes, but it’s not as prominent as it has been in the last ten months.

  “Me too.” I smile back at her. “You can’t come to Venice and not go on a gondola ride.”

  “Is the guy that rows the boat going to sing?” Ollie asks and we all turn to look at him. “What?” A forkful of eggs hovers halfway to his mouth. “What did I say?” We all continue to stare at him. “Come on, guys,” he whines. “Don’t look at me like that. They always sing in the movies,” he mutters.

  I shake my head. “Something tells me that’s only a movie thing.”

  “It might not be,” he grumbles. “It’s not like any of you have been on a gondola ride before.”

  “Actually, I have,” Liam chirps.

  All of our heads whip in his direction.

  “Really?” I ask. “I want to hear this story.”

  He chuckles and swallows a bite of food. “We were in Italy while my dad was on tour with the band. Willow and I snuck off from everyone else because being stuck in a hotel room all day was super boring, and went on one. There wasn’t any singing—at least, not from that guy. Then again, he was probably irritated to have to deal with two almost teenagers. And you’ve met Willow so you know how outrageous she can be,” he says, referring to his cousin.

  “So, then what happened?” I prompt.

  “What?” He looks at me stupidly.

  “Well—” I prop my elbows on the table “—you snuck away from your parents and the other kids, I assume, so what happened? Did you get in trouble or were your parents cool with you guys traipsing over Venice by yourselves?”

  “Oh, they were pissed.” He laughs. “My dad and the other guys were at rehearsal when it happened, and our moms were busy dealing with the younger kids. With that many kids running around it was easy for us to slip out. We were older and quiet so they didn’t pay us much attention. My mom was super upset when we finally turned back up, though. I don’t think she’s ever hugged me so hard in my life. My dad ended up having a long talk with me that night about not doing stupid fucking shit to scare your mother,” he mimics his dad’s voice and then laughs. “My dad wasn’t much of a lecturer but on the rare occasions where he did, it usually involved a lot of fucks and shits.”

  “I love your dad.” I laugh, shaking my head. Ollie and I have only met his parents a few times but they’re cool people.

  “He definitely wasn’t your typical dad,” Liam muses. “But he was pretty fucking perfect in my book.” He grins.

  “I guess we all know where you get your love of the word fuck.”

  He grins. “You fucking know it.”

  It’s nice to see Liam not cringe at being compared to his father in some way. He struggled for a long time feeling like his own person. When your father is a world-famous rock star, people tend to think that all you’re good for is being a celebrity’s kid. Liam didn’t want to be known that way. He wanted to be viewed as his own person and taken seriously in the surfing community. I think he’s done that pretty well.

  We finish our breakfast and the guys head off since Ari and I volunteered to do the dishes. She scrubs, and I dry.

  We’re quiet as we work and she hums softly under her breath.

  She hands me a dish and exhales a sigh. “I keep hearing your voice in my head today, reminding me that it’s okay to be happy—because here I am, in another country with the love of my life and my friends, and I am happy, so of course the guilt comes along. But it’s okay,” she whispers. “I’m allowed to be happy.” She looks at me with a worried expression, nibbling on her bottom lip like she’s worried I’m suddenly going to tell her I lied and she shouldn’t be happy.

  “That’s good,” I say, laying the clean plate aside. “When you have those moments of … bad thoughts, remind yourself of that. Everyone has good days and bad. Everyone feels happy and sad. We feel anger and worry and a million other things. It’s our right as human beings to feel those things and for anyone to tell you can’t feel a cer
tain way, that’s wrong. We’re our own worst critics, though. We think we should do and say and behave a certain way. We box ourselves in and that’s wrong. We should be free to live without that burden.”

  She smiles and tucks a piece of dark hair behind her ear. “You’re pretty smart about this kind of thing.”

  “I had a rough childhood,” I state. It’s not something I’m ashamed of, or angry about, it’s simply a fact. “I see the world in a different way because of that. I don’t judge people so easily.”

  She shakes her head back and forth, and I can tell she’s deep in thought about something. She hands me another plate to dry and finally speaks. “He robbed me of so much of my life. I thought once I knew that he was gone for good and could never hurt me that I’d finally live again. But I’ve let him rob me of my last ten months of life too because I haven’t been able to let things go.”

  “It’s human nature to dwell,” I tell her. “You have to make the conscious decision to let go of the bullshit and just live.”

  She nods and gives me a small smile. “Thanks for listening to me.”

  I smile back and bump her hip with mine, giggling. “I’m here anytime you need me.”

  “That means a lot.” She flashes another smile. This one even bigger.

  Ari got dealt a shitty card in life, an even shittier one than Ollie and me, and she might not be able to see it, but she deserves her happily ever after as much as anyone. If not more.

  “You promised me unlimited Cheetos on this trip and you failed miserably. How do you expect me to function without their cheesy goodness?” Ollie rants to Liam.

  He and Liam walk only a few feet in front of Ari and me. We look at each other and shake our heads.

  Liam glances at Ollie with a grin. “I booked you nice places to stay and I decided I couldn’t risk you smearing your Cheeto-covered fingers on the wall like you’re five.”

  “Once. I did that once,” Ollie defends, holding one finger up in the air.

  Liam snorts. “Once? What planet are you living on? You do it practically every time you come to my house.”

  “Well.” Ollie pouts. “I can’t help it that your white walls are so inviting. They need some color.”