Page 30 of Olivia's Only Pretending
Victor continued, “You can’t always be sure of everything. I know you know that.”
“Of course, logically I know that.” But that didn’t stop me from trying. Logic was no match for my feelings, my heart. Sometimes, it felt like my heart was racing ahead of me, trying to come up with a safety plan while my mind was still only learning about the mere existence of a situation.
“Some of the best stuff in life is the stuff you didn’t see coming. The stuff that God knows you’re ready for, even if you don’t yet, you know? Like Watson.”
“Watson?” I instantly thought of Victor’s furry, playful golden retriever bounding to me when they came over. How had I never asked Watson’s origin story? I’d just taken the two of them as a package deal, no questions asked.
“Watson’s first owner got sick, really sick. She was an old family friend and couldn’t take care of him anymore. When she reached out to me, I impulsively took him in. I didn’t research golden retrievers. I didn’t have a dog bed or leash. I didn’t even know if my townhouse was cool with pets. I didn’t think about how inconvenient a dog might be. I just took him in. I took care of that other stuff later.” He leaned back on his elbows, stretching his legs out in front of him. “What if I’d waited to take him in and she’d called someone else? Could you imagine life without Watson?”
“No.” I shook my head.
Victor was passionate and impulsive, but in a way I trusted because he wasn’t carried by whims or desires. He was carried by his care and his values. His passion was an arrow pointed at whatever he cared about most.
Watson needed a home, so he gave him one.
I needed a copilot at a history department dinner, so he was my date.
“I don’t know if that helps. Or makes any sense.” He ran a hand down his face, questioning himself.
“It helps.” I stretched my legs out beside his, my freckled knees blue under the moonlight.
He tapped the toe of his dress shoe against my bare feet.
I’d left my high heels on the ground below. “You always help, Victor.”
He smiled to himself, unable to hide the pleasure he took in my comment.
Some students squealed from dorm rooms across the way.
Victor turned his head toward me suddenly, a curious gleam in his eyes. “Should we talk about the kiss?”
“We should talk about the kiss,” I complied. My heart sped up, remembering how it felt to have his lips against mine only days ago.
“I’ve got to admit. I have a few questions.” Our arms brushed with every minor movement, his heat warming me.
“Shoot.”
“Well …” He swallowed. “Was that kiss more about him … or me?”
“That kiss …” I licked my lips, searching for the right words. “Was about a lot of things. It was aboutme. And you. And, yeah, he’d been gasoline on the fire. But, in the moment, I wasn’t really thinking. He’d belittled you, and I think wanted to make him eat his words … and then …”
“And then it was a really good kiss,” Victor said.
I nodded. “I got a little caught up in the, uh …” Words escaped me. I had barely talked about this with myself.
“In the chemistry?” Victor breathed, his voice low.
“Yeah. But the whole little charade I was putting on when you came back into the office was an impulsive move,” I said. One of those rare moments I acted without thinking. Yet, it’d been with one of my safest people, so it hadn’tfeltlike a dangerous move. “But you saw, I even started second-guessing it right before the … kiss.”
As Victor pinned me with his gaze, I had to admit how reckless it was. I’d been playing with fire.
“Do you think it was a big deal? It kind of felt like a big dealto me.You seem to have brushed past it. I’ve had trouble getting a read on what you think,” he said.
I almost laughed. If the man could hear how fast my heart started beating every time I thought about the kiss, the way my mind had been playing the memory on a loop, he wouldn’t be asking.
“It wasn’t a small deal,” I said quietly. “By any means.”
His shoulders eased. “Okay, okay,” he said, then paused, before way too casually asking, “Do you think it’ll happen again?”
