Separate Like Stars

by Diana Kane

  “What’s on your mind?” she asks as she reaches out with her injured hand and brushes the backs of her fingers against my cheek.

  “I know we agreed that we should take this slow, and I’m not trying to trick you or be overly forward, or—,” Olivia’s chuckle stops my rambling, forcing me to take a deep breath before trying to make my request again. “Would you want to stay here tonight? You can use the guest room or share with me. I’d just really like it if you stayed.”

  “I’ll leave if you try to take advantage of me,” she bluffs, her playful smile giving her away.

  “That’s all right,” I say as I turn to open the door. “I’ll just ask one of them then,” I inform her as I turn the knob. I laugh as she quickly extends her arm, resting her right hand on the door just above the deadbolt.

  “You’d be in so much trouble if I had the use of both hands,” she whispers in my ear as she presses me against the door.

  “That’s the problem with having a clipped wing, you’re all talk,” I respond as I reach behind me with my left hand and grip her hip as I press my ass against her crotch. Her sharp intake of breath hisses against my ear as she pushes a little more firmly against me. “I had no intention of trying to take advantage of you,” I reiterate as her good hand drops to my hip and begins sliding around my waist.

  “Do you have any idea how impossible it feels to continue denying what I want so badly?” she asks as she trails the tip of her tongue down my neck.

  “Yes,” I gasp as her teeth graze against the juncture where my neck and shoulder meet. “Liv,” I growl as I close my hand around hers and allow my forehead to fall against the door.

  “I know,” she whispers as her hand loosens its grip on my shirt. “I’m sorry,” she apologizes as she takes a step away from me. “Maybe it’s not a good idea for me to stay,” she mumbles.

  “I’d still like you to,” I admit as I turn to face her. We study one another as she rakes her fingers through her hair.

  “I’m not sure we’re capable of controlling ourselves,” she argues.

  “Says the woman who had me pinned against the door a minute ago,” I remind her with a smirk. “I think the fact that we stopped before anything happened shows we have all the restraint in the world,” I offer. “The decision is yours to make though. I’ll be working on that puzzle for a little while longer anyway.”

  “Let’s do that, and I’ll think about staying,” she says as she offers her hand to me. “Any chance I could use that ice pack you offered earlier?”

  “For your hand or something else?” I question with a raised eyebrow and flirty smile.

  “You don’t have two, do you?” she asks with a chuckle, her face scrunched up in mock agony.

  “Nope,” I answer through a laugh. “I do have some ice cream though.”

  “You’ve been holding out on me!”

  “Well, delayed gratification does seem to be our working theme,” I observe as I tug her hand so she’ll follow me to the kitchen.

  “It does. Although I’m not finding myself to be its biggest fan,” she shares as she squeezes my hand and we make our way through the house.

  “Me either,” I agree. “Come on. I have some mint chocolate chip with your name on it.”

  Chapter 34

  “Jordan,” Olivia’s hoarse, sleep-laden voice causes me to stir as her hand rubs my back. “Wake up. There’s someone at your door,” she informs me with a little shake as the doorbell rings again.

  “For the love of god that had better not be a reporter,” I grumble as I squint against the bright light.

  “Jordan,” I hear my mother call out as she closes the front door. “I’ve brought you some groceries.”

  “Shit! I don’t want her carrying in a bunch of bags,” I inform Olivia as I give her a quick kiss before sliding out of her embrace.

  “Do you want me to hang out up here?” she asks as I approach the doorway.

  “I’ll be right down,” I shout down the stairs to my mother. “No,” I begin as I turn to look at Olivia, “I’m not hiding you. The whole world knows about us anyway. Come down and have some coffee with us. If you want to,” I add as I move back to the bedside and steal a lingering kiss. “I’m glad you decided to stay last night,” I inform her as my fingers trace her hairline.

  “Me too,” she whispers with a sleepy smile. “We should get down there before she comes looking for you. Plus, my hand is throbbing. I need some more ibuprofen and ice,” she adds as I rise from the mattress, allowing her to exit the bed.

  “Jordan, are you oh—,” mom shouts up the stairs, her shock at seeing Olivia and me at the top of the landing cutting off her query. “I’m glad I didn’t make it as far as coming up there to find you,” mom nervously jokes when she finds her voice again.

  “Relax, mom. Olivia snuck down here last night and stayed. We were only sleeping. Fully clothed,” I add as we descend the steps. “What are you doing here so early?”

  “Early? It’s after noon. I messaged you this morning to say I’d be over.”

  “Ah. I think I left my phone downstairs. I—.”

  “What happened to your hand?” mom interrupts me to question Olivia when we reach the bottom of the steps.

  “Occupational hazard involving a knife. I’ll be fine,” Olivia grins as she hugs my mom. “It’s good to see you.”

  “You too. Where’d you cut yourself?”

  “Here,” Olivia shows my mom by pointing to her palm. “It’s more of a stab wound than a cut,” she sheepishly admits, her eyes darting away from me.

  “I might have just gotten you into trouble,” mom informs Olivia with a grin as she watches my perturbed expression. “You missed all the tendons, ligaments, and nerves?” she asks when she focuses on Olivia again.

  “Yeah,” she answers mom as she looks at me. “See,” she says, grimacing as she wiggles her fingers.

  “Good. You should get some ice on that and keep it elevated. Come on,” she says with a tilt of her head toward the kitchen, “I suspect Jordan needs her morning coffee.”

  “Like I’m alone on that front,” I manage through a yawn as I make my way to the kitchen. “What’s the situation out front?”

  “A few stragglers, but I’m sure it’s a vast improvement over yesterday,” mom informs me as she and Olivia take seats at the table and start working on the puzzle. “I think you gave them what they wanted last night.”

  “You believe it was a bad idea?” I ask as I open the cupboard and pull out the coffee beans.

  “I didn’t mean it like that. I think it was brave of you to go out there and impressive that you did it on your terms. Not only that you did it on your terms, that you set the ground rules and stuck to them, even when they persisted. Hell, they were even discussing it on The View this morning and applauded you for it,” she finishes with a grin.

  “They what?” I ask, Olivia’s shocked expression likely mirroring my own.

  “They had a lot to say on the matter, but it was all positive. They supported your desire for privacy and sympathized with what it’s like to have that basic right denied. They were supportive when you and Addison announced your breakup, but they are doubling down on that now, reminding everyone that it was pretty clear she had several affairs throughout your relationship,” mom says, her dislike of Addison still clear.

  “There’s no need to vilify Addison. We had what we had. It’s over,” I remind her with a lift of my eyebrows to convey my point.

  “What do you think about all of it?” mom asks Olivia, stopping me from putting the beans in the grinder.

  “Oh…uh,” Olivia stammers as she nervously looks at me, earning her a smile in return. “I told Jordan my opinion of her relationship with Addison before they broke up,” Olivia confesses as her eyes quickly dart back and forth between my mother and me.

  “So you do agree that Addison was wrong.”

  “I think that what she and Jordan had, was between the two of them. I won’t cheat on Jordan,
if we make it that far,” Olivia vows.

  “If?” mom questions as she shifts her gaze from Olivia to me.

  “We’re taking things slow,” I inform her before quickly switching on the grinder, effectively shutting down whatever followup question she might have. She scowls at me before turning to Olivia, the grinder completing its cycle all too soon.

  “What about Jordan’s statement?” she asks Olivia, earning a silent thank you for letting the topic of our relationship status go.

  “I haven’t seen it,” Olivia admits as I start the pot of coffee.

  “Coffee?” I ask as I open the cupboard and start gathering coffee cups. “Liv, you’re welcome to use my laptop to watch the video. Or just turn on the television,” I add with an eye roll.

  “No need, I have the video right here,” mom informs us as she hands her phone to Olivia. “I’d love a coffee. You always splurge on the good stuff,” she observes as she watches Olivia for any sign of a reaction. I impatiently focus on the coffee pot, trying to ignore the sound of my voice coming from the phone a few feet away. Unable to tune out the video, I turn and pull the ice pack from the freezer, giving it to Olivia before heading to the bathroom for the bottle of ibuprofen.

  “Take a couple of these,” I whisper as I lean over to press a kiss to her temple as the video finishes.

  “Thanks,” she answers as she passes the phone back to mom.

  “Well?” mom impatiently asks her as I return to the coffee maker and fill each cup to the appropriate level, allowing room for the preferred amount of cream and sugar.

  “I think the women on that show were right. She did well,” Olivia answers as I pour the correct amount of creamer in each of the cups, Olivia’s coffee turning the color of a creamy latte, my mother’s remaining a deep, dark brown and mine loitering somewhere between the other two.

  “Thank you,” I give Olivia a grateful smile as I walk their steaming mugs to the table, careful to deposit each one in a puzzle free space.

  “You’re not bothered that they know who you are?” mom asks as she blows on the steaming brew.

  “They know my name, not who I am. The only person whose opinion matters to me is Jordan. The rest of the world can label me a home-wrecker, hate me or love me. It doesn’t matter,” Olivia replies before taking a hearty sip of her diluted brew. “Dana, I think you know that I’m in love with Jordan, that I’ve always been in love with her. I could have opened du Pays anywhere, but I chose Jupiter Falls because Jordan was here and I needed to know if I was still in love with her or if I was in love with what we once were. We aren’t the girls we were then, but I can say without a shadow of a doubt that I’m more in love with Jordan than I have ever been,” Olivia declares, causing my mouth to fall open.

  “I don’t doubt your feelings for one another,” mom begins, buying time before she continues by sipping her coffee. “Olivia, you know I adore you, but you weren’t here after you broke Jordan’s heart. Even though she tried to hide it from me, I know she was devastated. What happens if one of you decides that the relationship won’t work?”

  “So you believe we should just ignore our feelings for one another?” I ask, not bothering to disguise my irritation.

  “No, but I do wonder if you’ve thought about the what ifs.”

  “We have,” Olivia shares. “I’m not sure we can have a contingency plan in place for all possible outcomes, but we’ve discussed matters. We know there aren’t any guarantees.”

  “Ultimately, we’re adults, and as such, I believe we’re allowed to make decisions that have the potential to fuck up our lives in many imaginable ways. Liv loves me, and I feel the same for her. Right now we’re taking the time to see if we’re able to reestablish the trust required to make it work. Am I scared? Yeah, I’m scared shitless. I never imagined I’d be in this position with Olivia again. But it feels right. Given our feelings, we owe it to ourselves to try.”

  “Okay,” mom says a little loudly while holding up her hand in a gesture to indicate I should stop. Perhaps I did get a bit defensive, but I’ve never questioned a single decision she’s made regarding her love life. Shouldn’t she owe me the same respect? “You’re right. You’re adults and free to handle this in whatever manner you see fit. One more thing though,” she says as she focuses on Olivia. “Will you be able to handle the attention, the stress, the media and the lack of privacy that comes with dating my daughter?”

  “If you are asking if it’ll cause me to start using again, the answer is no. That road isn’t one I want to travel again. Even with all the attention thus far, I haven’t had an urge to use. In fact, I’m headed into the city for a meeting later today.”

  “I know you are,” mom acknowledges. “I’m just worried about both of you. If this goes south…,” she says with a shake of her head.

  “I know, mom,” I manage without sighing too loudly. “Right now you need to focus on your recovery. Don’t stress yourself over our relationship. We know you love us and neither one of us is going to ask you to pick a side. Please don’t cause a setback to your recovery by adding undue stress on your heart.”

  “And you need to stop worrying about me. I had an infection that damaged my mitral valve. I don’t have a blockage and am in no danger of suffering a heart attack. You won’t be rid of me that easily,” she morbidly jokes as she smiles at us. “My heart aside, I really do hope the two of you work this time.”

  “Thanks,” Olivia and I mutter at the same time. I understand my mom’s concerns. Hell, I even share them. I have no desire to hurt Olivia any more than I want to go through what I endured before.

  “Did you eat yet?” I ask mom, at a loss for what else I should say.

  “I had breakfast,” she shares. “But that was hours ago since not all of us slept the day away,” she adds with a laugh. “If you’re making waffles, I have room for one,” she says with a coaxing grin.

  “Want a waffle?” I ask Olivia, picking up on my mother’s obvious suggestion.

  “I can make breakfast,” Olivia says as she tries to push out her chair.

  “You have one hand, and you always cook,” I inform her as I stop her movement with a hand on her thigh. “I’m more than capable of making waffles for us.”

  “So you did pick up a thing or two in the kitchen when we lived together,” she observes before leaning her head against my shoulder.

  “One or two things,” I joke as I squeeze her thigh. “Where’s Scott?” I ask mom as I briefly lean my head against Olivia’s before getting up to start breakfast.

  “I sent him back to work,” she informs me with a wave of her hand. “He was starting to drive me crazy.”

  “You’re serious, aren’t you? Mom! Are you supposed to be alone for extended periods of time? Are you supposed to be driving? Grocery shopping? Or anything other than couch surfing for that matter? You had your chest cracked open a few weeks ago,” I exclaim, trying to keep calm, but failing miserably. If I had known she was sending Scott back to work, I would have been over there first thing this morning.

  “Jordan,” she begins as she rises from her chair and moves to stand in front of me. “I. Am. Fine,” she assures me as her hands grip my shoulders. “I can’t imagine how frightened you were when they called you, but I’m okay and will be for a long time to come. You have to stop fretting over me and trust that I know my limits. I’m a nurse after all,” she concludes with a wink.

  “Rumor has it that people who work in healthcare make the worst patients. Plus, it’s my job to worry about you,” I inform her. “If Scott is back to work full time I’d feel better if you’d let me get someone to clean the house, prepare meals and check in on you more than twice a day.”

  “I can help with the meals,” Olivia helpfully chirps.

  “Stop. Both of you,” mom issues as her attention swings from me to Olivia and back. “I appreciate that you want to help out, but it’s not necessary. I know my limits and am not pushing myself beyond what I can handle. If you want to check
on me, by all means, call or stop by.” I watch as she extends a hand to Olivia before clutching one of mine with her other. “Your job is to live your lives. I want you to focus on being happy. Don’t waste so much energy worrying about me,” she commands. I sigh as I turn for the kitchen, knowing that arguing with mom is pointless.

  “You gave everyone a scare, Dana. It’s gonna take some time to put everyone at ease that you’re all right. I’m here if you need anything and I’ll always be here for Jordan,” I hear Olivia share as I pull a mixing bowl out of the cupboard. I jump at the sound of a phone ringing but remain focused on my task as I know it isn’t mine. “Sorry,” Olivia says as I pull some fruit and buttermilk from the refrigerator.

  “You planned this all along, didn’t you?” I accuse mom as I hold up the fresh quart of buttermilk for her inspection. To her credit she simply smirks and lifts her shoulders, her eyes darting in the direction of my phone as the text alert fills the room.