Page 30 of Time To Live Again

LEO

Ispin around one more time and open my eyes to scan the room. Olive is nowhere to be seen. When Bethany sways toward me, I hightail it off the dance floor.

I step over to a dark corner where I can catch my breath. Sweat drips down my temples, and my shirt sticks to my back and chest. I rake my fingers through my messy, wet hair. I can’t stop smiling. It’s been ages since I’ve felt the blood pump through my veins this way. Nothing matters when I get lost like that. No drug could ever accomplish the adrenaline rush and stress relief I experience after dancing.

It was always my happy place…until it wasn’t.

I became a different person on that dance floor—someone I miss every day. Dancing was an integral part of my life, but when Corey died, the energy and thrill died with him. I packed up my memories of dancing—and everything else Corey and I loved to do—and stored them all in Mom’s and Aunt Betty’s attics. I haven’t touched them since I put them there. But tonight?—

Tonight is Olive’s fault. She zapped me with lightning and ignited that dormant part of me. She’s troubled, insecure, innocent, caring, and gorgeous. Mix them all together, and she’s the perfect storm. It’s like, all the walls I’ve built up since Corey died came crashing down with that one brush of her lips against mine. The reaction is snowballing. What’ll happen when I spend more time with her? Because I promise you, I will be seeing her again after tonight.

I roll my arms and shoulders, then head to the bar where Ellie and Sam are. I ask for some water and scan the room again. Still no Olive. I hope she’s okay. She didn’t leave, did she?

“Are you sure you’re my friend Leo?” Ellie threads her arm through mine and gently pulls me away from the crowd. I grab the water bottle off the bar. “I didn’t know you could dance like that. What else are you hiding?”

I shrug. “It’s been a while. I took classes when I was a kid.” And in college.

“I’d guess you took a lot of classes. Those weren’t basic dance moves.”

I shrug again because I don’t want to talk to Ellie about this. Not now. “It’s not a big deal,” I say, hoping to sound like I don’t care, even though I do. I swig my water to stop myself from saying anything else until the bottle is empty.

Silence ensues, which doesn’t often happen when I’m with her. My good mood is plummeting. I scrape off part of the bottle label to busy myself.

Ellie frowns and rests her hand on my arm again. “I talked to Sam about Bethany’s behavior and how you felt pressured to pretend you had a girlfriend. It’s partly my fault; I was hoping you two would hit it off. You haven’t dated anyone since I met you. I promise I’ll talk to her and set it straight.”

“Thanks. With my travel schedule, you know I’m not boyfriend material. Can we drop it?”

“Well, I do have to wonder,” she says, tapping her chin. “Are you sure it’s fake with Olive? You were holding hands when you came to the party and smiling at her the way Sam does me. That look suits you. And she was doing the same. Even Sam noticed.”

“It was because of him. Not me,” I joke.

“Don’t try to divert the conversation, mister.” She punches my arm.

I explain to Ellie how I met Olive and how she’s here alone. “I’ve felt this deep connection with her since the moment we met. It’s weird. I don’t know what it means or what I’m doing, but fighting it seems pointless.”

“Then don’t.”

I sigh. It’s not that easy.

She rolls her eyes. “I know I sound like a hopeless romantic, but anything is possible. Look at how Sam and I met and how most people think we’re lying about it. I fought against my attraction to him, but our lust turned to love within what felt like seconds. Every couple has their own unique love story. Who knows what yours could be? If you like her, don’t pretend it’s fake. Life’s too short for that shit.”

Don’t I know it.

As she finishes that sentence, Olive comes into view. She scans the room, perhaps searching for me. When she finally sees me, the smile I think Ellie mentioned transforms her face, and I respond the same. I wave her over.

Ellie pokes me. “See—that’s what I’m talking about. She’s around here somewhere, isn’t she?” She giggles in excitement. “Yep, I hear wedding bells.”

I snort. “I’ve had enough of you. Go back to your perfect husband.”

Ellie sneaks away, singing,“Daa dum da dum.”

Wedding bells. No way. That’s fucking insane.

Then why does my heart skip a beat and my chest fill with warmth when I hear them too?

13

OLIVE

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