Page 70 of Mending Hearts
I don’t.
“That doesn’t mean anything changes overnight,” I add quickly. “And it doesn’t mean sex. Or declarations. Or?—”
“I know,” he says, fast. “I know. I’ll take anything. I mean—” He stops himself, visibly reining it in. “I’ll take… what you’re offering.”
Good. Because if he’d pushed, I might have bolted.
He takes a sip of coffee, then sets the mug down like he needs his hands free. “I should tell you… I’m flying to San Francisco today.”
I stiffen. “Today?”
“Yes. The loft is ready for the final stage of renos.”
“Loft,” I repeat. “You bought a place.” He mentioned something about San Francisco yesterday, but in the middle of everything else, the words didn’t really compute.
He nods, nervous again. “I’m staying at a hotel for now. My sister’s going to be there. And her husband. And my niece.”
I blink. “You’re an uncle?”
His smile is soft. “Yeah. Amelia. She’s—” He hesitates, then grins. “She’s loud.”
Something warm spreads through my chest. “I love San Francisco,” I say quietly. “It’s home.”
Ollie’s fingers tighten slightly around his mug. “I know.”
That lands harder than it should. I look at him. “You know?”
He nods, a little sheepish, a little too honest. “I heard you had a place out there.” He hesitates. “I figured… if I was going to choose somewhere to land, it should be somewhere that already mattered to you.”
The room tilts. What the fuck do I do with that information? Should I be flattered? Terrified? Angry that he made a decision that close to my heart without telling me?
All three collide and leave me standing there, stunned. “You bought a place there,” I say slowly.
“Yes.”
“Because of me.”
“Because of… us,” he corrects gently. “Or what we were. And what I hoped we could be, if I ever stopped being an idiot.”
My lungs stall painfully. I look away, focusing on the counter, because if I don’t, I might reach for him—and that’s still dangerous territory.
“I need to be there,” I say finally, anchoring myself to something practical. “This week. I’ve got meetings. And I don’t want us doing this long-distance again, especially with the news about to go shit crazy.”
Even as I say the words, I wonder what I’m suggesting here. If I’m not willing to do long-distance, does that mean I’m willing to head out to Minnesota? If I do that, isn’t that me giving in and doing the chasing?
I’m so fucking confused and tired that my brain hurts.
Ollie’s breath stutters. “You want me there at the same time?”
“Yes.”
Notwith me. Notfor me. At the same time.
He nods immediately. “Okay.”
“Separate places,” I add.
“Of course.”
