Summertime & Butterflies

Being so exhilarated from her date with Harry, Olivia was certain sleep would be impossible to find. Her mind was racing, her heart was fluttering, and all she wanted to do was wake up her sister to discuss every single detail of the night. But, despite Stephanie’s worrisome texts from earlier in the night, she’d managed to fall asleep, evident by the light snores coming from the master bedroom. Girl talk would have to wait.

With a dreamy sigh, Olivia flopped into her bed, feeling wide awake. Her mind was filled with thoughts of Harry. She could still taste his soft lips against hers, feel his hands on her, hear his adorable laugh. They’d only just said goodbye, but she found she missed him terribly already. She wondered if he missed her too. She wondered if she was crazy for missing him. Then, she realised she didn’t care.

Olivia rolled over, wrapping her arms around the pillow. She wondered if she should just stay up. There was no way she’d fall asleep…

*~*~*~

“Hey. Auntie Livvy. Hey. He-ee-ey!”

Olivia let out a groan and opened one eye. Mia was kneeling on the bed, bouncing slightly as she stared at her aunt. Seeing Olivia’s eyes open, Mia grinned triumphantly.

“Oh, good!” she exclaimed. “You’re awake!” She paused, looking at Olivia with scrutiny. “Why do you have mascara on your cheek?” she asked. “It’s for your eyes,” she added, proud of her knowledge.

Olivia sighed, rolling onto her back and stretching her legs. “I forgot to wash my face last night before bed,” she told Mia, wiping her hands across her cheeks and wondering how haggard the rest of her looked.

Mia made a face, but nodded sympathetically. “Is that why your face sometimes looks like this?” she asked, waving her hands in front of her face erratically. Olivia wasn’t sure what the motion meant, but she was certain it wasn’t a compliment.

“Totally,” Olivia answered, stifling a yawn. “Why are you in my room, anyway?” she asked, watching as Mia reached into her ever-present Paw Patrol backpack and pulled out a doll comb.

“Mommy said I could come wake you up,” Mia answered, taking a lock of Olivia’s hair and carefully dragging the comb through it. “Because we already had lunch, and you haven’t even had breakfast yet!” she added incredulously.

“Really?” Olivia answered, stretching again. She reached for her phone and peered at the time. Almost one in the afternoon. She was surprised she’d slept so long when she didn’t think she’d be able to at all, but she was more surprised her sister let her sleep as late as she did.

“Yeah,” Mia answered, still working the plastic comb through her aunt’s hair. “We had carrot sticks, and Violet didn’t eat all of hers, but I did,” she boasted, vegetable eating being a massive deal in the Gilbert household.

“Good job, kid,” Olivia replied, pushing the blankets off her and gently removing Mia’s hand from her hair. “Go tell Mom I’m having a shower and then I’ll come downstairs and eat all of my carrot sticks too.”

“Deal!” Mia chirped affirmatively, bouncing off the bed and bolting from the guest room, awkwardly struggling to pull her backpack back on as she ran. Olivia sat up, rubbing her eyes again and smiling softly at the memories of the night before. She touched her lips gently. They were chapped from the action they experienced, but deliciously so. The skin around her mouth was tender and raw from Harry’s bit of stubble, but she knew Stephanie had an arsenal of skin care products. Even if she didn’t, Olivia wouldn’t have cared. It was worth it.

~*~*~*

“Ah, there you are, my little Sleeping Beauty,” Stephanie cooed playfully as Olivia entered the kitchen, still bleary-eyed. “Sit down. Guzzle coffee. Tell me everything!”

Olivia grinned lazily at her sister before selecting the largest coffee mug from the cupboard. She filled it to the brim and took a large swallow. “Oh, my God,” she sighed, letting the coffee seep into her before refilling her cup and taking a seat at the island counter next to Stephanie.

“Is that oh my God for the coffee or the date?” Stephanie asked eagerly, leaning forward, preparing for the gossip. Having been with only her husband, Stephanie liked to live vicariously through Olivia’s dating life – though it had been awhile since she’d been able to.

“Well, for the coffee,” Olivia admitted with a laugh. “But… Oh. My. God!” she added, clutching Stephanie’s hand and letting out a girlish giggle. Stephanie squeezed Olivia’s hand and squealed excitedly.

“Okay, so I do know you had a picnic,” Stephanie told Olivia. “Harry texted me and asked me about all of your favourite junk food. I almost lied and told him shit you hated, but thought that would have been a dick move,” she admitted with a chuckle. “But kinda funny!”

“It wouldn’t have mattered,” Olivia answered, her voice still high-pitched and giggly. “The snacks were totally adorable, but like… everything was adorable. I felt like I was in a movie,” she added, her face flushing with exhilaration.

“Start at the very beginning,” Stephanie demanded, sliding a tray of veggies to Olivia. “So, he picks you up… Was he on time?”

“He was like ten minutes early,” Olivia answered, helping herself to a piece of cucumber. “Which, I know you would have freaked out about, but I was super happy,” she added, poking fun at Stephanie’s lack of punctuality.

“Yeah, yeah,” Stephanie said with a roll of her eyes. “Did he kiss you when he got here?”

Olivia shook her head. “No, but I wanted to,” she replied. “But it was like…” She held her hands up, mimicking a scale. “Does he want to? Is it too soon? But we hugged, and he smelled so good and, oh God, I almost melted right there,” she gushed, clasping her hands together.

“Oh, I bet,” Stephanie said with a dreamy sigh. “He’s so hot!”

Olivia held up a warning finger. “Back off,” she instructed teasingly. “But, I know!” She sighed again. “But he’s not just hot. Like, he’s actually the nicest guy I’ve ever met in my life. He’s so kind and so respectful. I don’t really even think he’s from Earth,” she added with a chuckle.

“He is pretty heavenly,” Stephanie quipped. “So where did he take you?”

Olivia paused to take a gulp of coffee. “This little beach, like ten minutes away,” she answered, gesturing. There’s just a wide spot on the road to park and this super narrow path down to the water. It was so private, and pretty romantic,” she admitted with a bashful smile.

Stephanie swatted her sister playfully. “Did the Queen of ‘I Hate Romance’ actually have fun on a romantic date?” she asked, pretending to be shocked.

It was true – Olivia had always harped about not liking romance, about how a date at a bar, playing darts and drinking beer was far superior to some lame beach date, watching the sunset. She prided herself on being an easy-going girl, one who didn’t need all of the pomp and circumstance to have a good time. The thought of a beach date, or a candlelit dinner, or a stroll through a park made her feel incredibly uncomfortable. But now, having been on the romantic date and feeling anything but uncomfortable, she realised it was the past men – and not the actual date – that was the cause of her discomfort.

Olivia shrugged sheepishly. “It was just…” She trailed off, trying to find a word to describe her date with Harry. “Perfect,” she determined, letting out another giggle.

Stephanie rolled her eyes good-naturedly at her sister. It was nice to see Olivia so happy after months of unhappiness. “So, how long did it take before you kissed again? And was that all you did?” she asked, wiggling her eyebrows at Olivia suggestively.

“That’s all,” Olivia assured her sister. “I mean, not all,” she corrected. “Kissing him is incredible,” she said with another dreamy sigh. “We were kind of like… you know when you just want to touch someone, so you find any excuse to? I poked his stomach and he…” she stopped, chuckling to herself at the memory. “He told me that tickling was against the law. And if I did it, he’d have to kiss me,” she finished, covering her face abashedly.

“Oh, Jesus Christ!” Stephanie exclaimed. “That is disgustingly cute!”

“I know!” Olivia exclaimed back, her voice muffled by her hands. “It was so freakin’ cute, I can’t even believe it happened!”

“It’s so incredibly cute!” Stephanie agreed with a sigh. “Shit, I need to get divorced,” she joked, standing up and walking around the island to the coffee pot. She refilled her coffee before joining Olivia again. “So, you just stayed at the beach? Til morning? And just talked?”

“I mean, mostly,” Olivia answered, giggling as her face heated up. “But we did talk a lot. About, like… everything. And… he sang, too,” Olivia added, the butterflies in her stomach fluttering at the thought of Harry’s voice. “I asked him to, and… he did.”

“What did he sing?” Stephanie asked, resting her chin on her hand, focussing intently on her sister’s story.

“Isn’t She Lovely,” Olivia replied. “It’s the song he sang on the X-Factor. It like… almost made me cry,” she confessed sheepishly. She shook her head, still confused by the emotions she felt. “I don’t know why. It was beautiful, but I…” She shook her head again, feeling the same lump enter her throat again. But this time, in the comfort of her sister’s home and her guard down, the lump prevailed and she felt tears well up in her eyes.

“Oh, my God,” Olivia said with a wavering laugh. She grabbed a nearby napkin and dabbed at her eyes beneath her glasses. “I don’t know what’s going on with me. I must be freakin’ exhausted,” she determined, uttering another high-octave chuckle.

“You’re actually crying!” Stephanie exclaimed, clutching Olivia’s hand tightly and shaking it up and down. “Oh, my God! You’re so smitten!”

“I’m not crying,” Olivia retorted, yanking her hand away from Stephanie. She took a shaky breath and waved her hands in front of her eyes to rid the pool of tears. “It was just a… I don’t know! This super sweet moment… I don’t know how to explain it,” she said, shrugging helplessly. “It’s kind of weird, isn’t it?” she asked, realising she hoped Stephanie disagreed with her. “Feeling all fluttery like this after just one date…”

“Well, it wasn’t really one date,” Stephanie argued. Olivia furrowed her brow with confusion. Stephanie wasn’t always a math whiz, but even she could count to one. “I mean, you were with him for, what, twelve hours? That’s like… at least three dates,” she explained, counting on her fingers. “And then the bar counts as a hangout, and then you guys kissed here and flirted all night, and had stupid jokes about cheese…” Stephanie rolled her eyes and chuckled softly, holding up five fingers. “It’s not weird to feel the way you’re feeling,” she assured Olivia.

Olivia giggled again, covering her mouth sheepishly. “Oh, gosh!” she laughed, her eyes wide. “I can’t believe how much I like this guy! I feel like I miss him, and I saw him, what, six hours ago? This is so weird,” she said again, unable to stop laughing but tears still forming behind her eyes.

Stephanie snickered, Olivia’s laughter contagious. “It’s adorable,” she corrected, rubbing her sister’s arm comfortingly. “When are you seeing him again?”

“I don’t know,” Olivia answered with a shrug. “We both said we wanted to see each other again. At the same time,” she added, giggling. “He said he was going to let me sleep and call me tomorrow. I wish he’d call me today,” she confessed, checking her phone.

“Call him,” Stephanie answered simply. “The whole thing about who calls who is just crap. If you want to, you do it. Plus, he likes you, so he’d totally dig you calling him.”

Olivia nodded slowly. Stephanie was right. She was also a thirty-one year old woman, and playing childish games about who called who, or who texted first, or whether there was enough hours between the asking and the actual date weren’t games she wanted to play.

“You’re right,” Olivia told her sister. “I’ll give him a bit longer to sleep, and then I’ll call him.” She giggled bashfully. “Oh, gosh, I can’t wait to hear his voice again!”

~*~*~*

A few hours later, Olivia was sprawled out in bed, toying with her phone. Despite her earlier pep talk about being a grown ass woman who doesn’t play games, she still felt unbearably nervous at the thought of calling Harry. She stared at his profile in her address book for ages, working up the nerve to press the little green phone icon.

“Just press the fucking button, you loser,” she told herself sternly, tapping her finger against the screen a beat later and feeling her stomach tumble with nerves. As she heard the first ring echo through her phone, she knew it was officially too late to chicken out and hang up.

“He-hello?” Harry greeted Olivia, his voice sounding peculiar, as though he was questioning why she was phoning him.

“Hi!” Olivia said, a bit too enthusiastically. “Uhm… it’s Olivia,” she added unnecessarily, mentally kicking herself.

“That’s so weird,” Harry said, laughing. “I was just going to call you. I had your name up and everything. I thought maybe I’d pressed the button without knowing I did.”

“Oh!” Olivia answered, relieved that was why he sounded off. “Good, I was hoping you weren’t sleeping or something.”

“No, no,” Harry assured her. “I’d have answered anyway,” he added, and she could hear his cheeky smile through the phone.

Olivia smiled. “Good, good,” she replied, the butterflies beginning to wake up and take flight. “Did you sleep well?”

“Eh,” Harry answered. “Not really. Tried to, but I kept thinking about this pretty girl I know. She’s a bit of a distraction,” he added cheekily.

Olivia squeezed her eyes shut, trying to supress the girlish giggle that was fighting to come out. “She sounds like a real brat,” she teased, uttering a quick chuckle.

Harry laughed loudly. “Yeah, she is… but she’s a really good kisser,” he teased back.

Olivia felt her face flush and the giggle managed to escape. “Oh, gosh!” she laughed. “Well, she sounds pretty awesome,” she determined, wanting to jump up and down at being called a good kisser.

“Oh, she is,” he assured her. “But how about you, did you sleep? I’m sorry for keeping you out so late,” he added, sounding genuinely apologetic.

“Don’t apologise,” Olivia told him. “I didn’t want to leave even when I did,” she told him, her thumb subconsciously finding its way to her lips as she remembered their goodbye kiss. “I did sleep a bit, but I… I was thinking about you a bit, too,” she confessed, another giggle escaping.

“You were?” asked Harry, sounding delighted at the thought. “What were you thinking about?”

Olivia blushed. She wasn’t going to tell him everything she’d thought about – not yet, anyway. “I was just thinking that… I had such a good time with you… and that I can’t wait to see you again,” she told him, feeling warmth throughout her body at her confession.

“I can’t wait to see you too,” Harry echoed, his words bringing a wide smile to Olivia’s face. “I wish I could tonight, but I’ve got the lads coming by,” he told her, sounding sullen at the thought.

“It’s okay,” Olivia assured him, rolling onto her back and climbing her feet up the headboard. “Steph wants me to go to a hockey game tonight, anyway. I’d probably have more fun with you, though,” she admitted, a surprising realization for her, as live hockey games were one of Olivia’s favourite things.

“Probably,” Harry agreed, the cheeky grin evident in his voice again. “Is it too soon to ask to see you tomorrow?” he asked, sounding hesitant. “’Cause… I’d really like to.”

Olivia smiled, placing her hand on her stomach, as though to calm the butterflies. “I’d like that too,” she answered, certain her own smile was apparent over the phone line.

“What would you think if I asked you over here?” he asked, still sounding hesitant. “I mean, I know it’s not probably, like… the greatest plan, but I just don’t want you to be… Like, if there’s photographers out or something… I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable. And I can pick you up, and I can bring you back. That’s not a problem at all. I just want you to be comfortable, so whatever makes you that, then… that...”

Harry didn’t speak terribly fast normally, but as he was describing his plans to Olivia, his voice accelerated to the point that she had a hard time understanding him. When he’d finished rambling, all she could do was gently laugh.

“That sounds perfect,” she assured him, appreciative that he was so concerned about her comfort. She knew if she spent much more time with Harry, photographers would be a factor, but she didn’t want to think about that right now, or think about what would be said about her. All she wanted to do was countdown the hours until she could see Harry again.

“Oh, good,” he said, noticeably exhaling. “Can I pick you up at, say, two?”

“Two sounds perfect,” Olivia smiled, counting quickly on her fingers. T-Minus twenty-one hours.

Notes