Page 25 of The Love Penalty

“Goodnight, Olivia.”

I stand up and slowly move to the door, but before I can close it, Robbie says, “Olivia?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For letting me in.” My heart leaps, because I know he means more than just my house.

“Only you,” I whisper and close the door.

SEVENTEEN

Robbie

I wakeup to the smell of clean, unfamiliar sheets and—is that coffee? I must have slept like the dead because I haven’t heard Olivia make any noise in the hallway or the kitchen. I reach for the nightstand where I left my phone but something is stopping me from reaching all the way. I look down and realize I am completely tangled in the big fluffy blanket she tucked me in last night.

I hope last night really happened and that I didn’t just dream it. The way she let me in, I could tell it was hard for her, but I am so damn happy she trusted me enough to bring me into her home and tell me stories of her childhood. And the way she took care of me and brushed the hair out of my face as she was saying goodnight made my heart leap. I wanted to tell her to stay, to join me and cuddle me to sleep, but I know we’re not there yet.

Once I’m disentangled from the blanket, I reach once more for the nightstand, but instead of my phone, my hand brushes against a framed picture. I realize it’s a photo of young Olivia and a tall man with an impressive beard and mustache. He’s proudlygot an arm around her narrow shoulders while she holds up a trophy that says, ‘Little Olive’. Smiling to myself, I place it back on the nightstand.

I grab my phone and look at the time. Shit, it’s eleven already. I never sleep in like this, and while I was exhausted and clearly needed the sleep, I am kicking myself for not setting an alarm. The whole point of me staying an extra day was to spend it with Olivia not sleep the day away. I quickly get up and rummage through my overnight bag for some fresh clothes and toiletries, then head out to the bathroom.

My hair is a bit messy from sleep but at least I don’t need a shower so Olivia and I can get on with our plans for the day. I find her in the kitchen scrolling on her phone, a cup of fresh coffee nearby. She looks beautiful. The light coming from the kitchen window makes her brown hair shine brighter. She’s wearing black jeans and another cable-knit sweater, this one not brown, but dark green. She even has some makeup on, which is surprising because she usually doesn’t wear any. Not during games at least.

“Good morning,” I say while slowly moving into the small kitchen.

“Hey, how did you sleep?” she says with a smile and stands up from the table.

I rub the back of my neck and admit, “Really good, but you shouldn’t have let me sleep in so late.”

“Why?”

“Because, now I have even less time to spend with you,” I say as I look at the collar of her sweater. There’s a small hole there that draws my gaze. So I take in the rest of her sweater and notice it’s seen better days. The cuffs are a bit frayed and the color is a little faded. I wonder if she keeps wearing it because she likes it or if she simply can’t afford new clothes. I knew shewas being frugal, but I thought that was because eating out all the time is expensive. Now I wonder if there is more to it.

“I’d rather have you well rested than exhausted,” she says, breaking me out of my thoughts. I notice she moved to the coffee pot and is now holding out a cup for me.

“Thanks,” I take a few sips and turn towards her, each of us leaning into opposite counters. With how narrow the kitchen corridor is, I can extend one foot and tap hers with it, which I do. “So, what’s the first thing we are doing?”

“Well, I was going to take us to one of my favorite diners, but they get really busy around this time. So, I was thinking,” she says, tucking her hair behind her ears with both hands, “my grandma called me earlier and said she is making French toast casserole with bacon and eggs. So if you’d be okay meeting her, she invited us over.” She nervously peeks up at me.

A big smile takes over my face. Aw, hell. She wants me to meet her grandma? “That sounds delicious. What are we waiting for?” I say, patting my stomach.

She laughs and says, “Finish your coffee, then we’ll go.”

Forty-five minuteslater we are in front of a small townhouse knocking on a bright pink door. After telling me that Sunday brunches are tradition whenever she has the day off, I insisted she stop at the nearest grocery store. My mother would kill me if I showed up to someone’s house for the first time without a gift.

So here I am, with a bouquet of flowers and a box of donuts that Olivia assured me were her grandma’s favorite. My fingers drum on the side of the donut box as we wait for her grandmato open the door. Olivia notices and looks up at me as she says, “Don’t worry, I promise she doesn’t bite.”

I groan inwardly. Great, now she knows I’m nervous.But does she know why?Does she realize that every time I look at her, my breath catches and it doesn’t release until her eyes are on me too? Does she feel this pull between us? Does she also wonder what our kisses would be like?

Before I can respond with a joke and make this moment more lighthearted, the door swings wide open and there’s a petite woman with white hair and a bright pink apron with donuts on it that greets us.

“Oliviaaaa,” she says brightly and squeezes her granddaughter in a bone crushing hug. She then peeks up at me over Olivia’s shoulder and gives me a mischievous look. Once they break apart, Olivia moves to my side and touches my arm, the one holding the box of donuts and says, “Grams, this is Robbie.”

My mouth is dry and I swear I am sweating, but I manage to clear my throat and stick out the arm with the bouquet of flowers. “For you, Miss Elizabeth,” I say and give her one of my brightest, more sincere smiles. But my whole body is tense, because holy shit. This is Olivia’s only living family, and here I am being introduced to her. What if she hates me?

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