Page 72 of Tangled in Vows

“Truth for a truth?”

I cross my arms over my chest and nod.

He blows out a breath, almost unsure about this. “Fine. I’m worried about you and Olivia, okay? We’d talked about her, but seeing you together earlier felt different. I can’t pinpoint why. Maybe having her here made it more real, more serious. I don’t know. I might just be talking out of my ass, and it’s nothing, but I don’t want this to end badly for either one of you. No matter how much you deny it, I think you’re both attached to each other more than you think.”

My brain is still trying to process his words when he adds, “I’m also incredibly pissed I still haven’t made any progress figuring out who’s behind all the shit with Olivia.”

“Sugar coma it is then.”

The words sound like surrender, and maybe that’s what this entire thing with Olivia is. Pure surrender. Because telling her my secrets would be giving her the choice to leave me, but I hope against all odds she won’t run screaming for the hills.

While leaving me should be her choice, I also want to be selfish and keep her in my life whichever way I can. Archer wasright, I’m attached to her. I was her friend first and foremost, and that hasn’t changed on my end. But I want the other parts of her too, all of them. And that’s a risk that’s hard to take, but one that seems to be unavoidable.

Maybe I should ask Archer to make more than one cake, after all.

I grab one of the barstools on the opposite side of the island and sit. Archer goes to the fridge and gets two cans of sparkling lime water, pushing one across the granite surface to me.

“Thanks.”

He opens his with a whoosh. “No problem.”

The mixer continues to whirr while he gets the flour and cocoa powder and sifts them together. I didn’t even know we had a flour sifter or what it was until Archer lectured me on it.

Baking was his favorite pastime with his grandma, and she taught him everything she knew. I think, in the beginning, she did it to distract him from the fact his mom hadn’t come back yet. He was used to her dropping him off at his grandma’s at a whim. But usually, she’d pick him back up after a few days or weeks. The last time, she never returned. We were twelve.

He always had a good relationship with his grandma, much better than either of us had with our moms. Baking together bonded them even more. It became their thing, and they did it often in the years he stayed with her until she passed a day after his eighteenth birthday. Since I spent much of my time there to avoid my mom and her endless boyfriends, I reaped the benefit of their baking prowess and the reprieve of being around people who don’t want to smack you around whenever they felt like it.

“Hold, do I need to explain the rules of a truth for a truth again?” He doesn’t peek up from his task, already having moved on to the next step in the recipe.

I huff. I should have known he wouldn’t forget about the truth I still owed him in return for his. Shit. I could tell himanything. That I’m excited to eat the brownies he’s making. Or that I miss Evie and Phoenix because we’ve all been busy with our own lives and responsibilities, and they’ve been traveling a lot lately. All truths, yet not the kind of deep revelations the game asks for. At least, the way we play it.

It’s about being vulnerable, which is exactly why I started playing it with Olivia after I met her. That woman had her feelings locked away in a vault, but if I offered her something first, she would slowly open up in return.

Archer turns off the mixer while I say, “I’m absolutely terrified this thing with Olivia won’t end well. Especially once she finds out the truth.”

My words are followed by silence from Archer and a clattering noise from the hallway that immediately has me on my feet.

Chapter 23

Olivia

Why did you save me just to shatter me for good?

Shit, shit, shit.

I glare down at Stormy, who’s busy pretending she didn’t just make a bunch of noise. Holden and Archer probably think I was eavesdropping. Which I wasn’t, of course. Well, mostly.

After my phone call with Ian, I needed some time to gather my thoughts and composure. With every additional blow lately, it has taken me longer and longer to maintain my equilibrium. The result is a myriad of unwanted emotions and memories that keep bubbling to the surface.

To no surprise, loud footsteps hurry toward us, so I take a deep breath and brace for impact. Metaphorically speaking.

Holden. My husband. The person who can occupy my brain simultaneously in the best and worst ways.

“Hey.”

He gives me a once-over to check I’m okay, like he always does. Too bad for him, he can only see the damage on theoutside. He most definitely wouldn’t regard me with worry in his eyes if he saw the ugly wasteland that was my insides.

Are we feeling a bit dramatic today?

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