Count Your Lucky Stars (Written in the Stars, #3)(10)



It was Olivia’s favorite movie. No matter how many times she watched it, that kiss in the rain still made her shiver and Paul Varjak’s speech about belonging putting an ache in her chest that persisted long after the credits rolled. It was the same ache she’d felt when she thought about Margot over the last decade.

Olivia wasn’t surprised Margot caught the reference. She’d forced her to watch the movie a dozen times, easy.

“I found her by the trash outside my apartment the week after I moved here.” They were both alone in the big city, and Olivia had figured they could be alone together. “It seemed fitting.”

Margot’s lips quirked. “You can let her out of the cage, if you want.”

Olivia cast a glance at the open door that led out into the main hall. Brendon, Annie, and Darcy had made one final trip out to the parking lot, offering to grab the last of Olivia’s boxes, most already stacked in her new bedroom.

“Here.” Margot flattened her palm against the door, shutting it with a soft snick. “No chance of her making a run for it.”

“Thanks.” Despite her squat little legs, Cat was wily. She had a tendency to explore, no space off-limits as long as she could fit. But even that was open to interpretation because Olivia had once found her wedged between the refrigerator and the wall. Cat was better at getting herself into trouble than out of it. Olivia could relate.

She dropped to her knees and unlatched the door to the carrier. Cat unfurled herself and crept closer. She stuck her nose in the air and sniffed, then sneezed. The smell of patchouli was faint, a stick of ashed incense poking up from a ceramic holder shaped like a lotus. Cat took a tentative step into the living room, appraising her new surroundings.

“This is where we live now.” Olivia stroked the fur between Cat’s ears. “You like it?”

Cat mewed softly and circled Margot’s ankles before slinking deeper into the apartment. She leaped onto the sofa and batted at a bright blue beaded accent pillow.

“I hope that’s okay,” Olivia offered belatedly, cringing slightly. “It’s hard to keep her off the furniture.”

More like impossible. Cat did what Cat wanted to do. Olivia could fuss, but Cat had no keeper.

Margot shrugged. “It’s fine with me.”

The front door swung open and Brendon stepped inside, cardboard boxes stacked two high in his hands. Annie followed, carrying Olivia’s vase of flowers. Olivia had drained the water, but the purple variegated carnations were fresh, purchased just yesterday. It had seemed a shame to throw them away. Annie set them atop the breakfast nook and smiled. “That’s the last of it.”

“Thank you so much.” Olivia tucked her hair behind her ears. “I—I really appreciate you all helping. You didn’t have to.”

“You’re helping make the wedding of our dreams happen, and in under a month.” Brendon shook his head. “Hauling a few boxes a couple of blocks is the least we can do.”

“I mean, that’s my job.” She laughed. They were paying her to help. Well, they were paying Lori, and Lori was paying her, but same difference.

“Still.” Brendon rocked back on his heels. “Any friend of Margot’s is a friend of ours.”

Margot averted her eyes.

Friends. So that’s the story Margot was going with. All right. Nice to know.

“Well, thank you.” She drummed her fingers against the outsides of her thighs. “Really.”

Brendon smiled, eyes crinkling. He turned to Margot. “We should probably get out of your hair. Let you settle in.”

“It’s been a long day,” Annie said, nose wrinkling softly in sympathy.

“You have lots of catching up to do,” Elle added. “Even more so now, considering . . .”

They were roommates.

Funny how years ago—before they’d grown apart and long before they’d fallen into bed—they’d talked about what it would be like, living together. It had been the plan. Graduate and move to the city, together. Margot had painted a pretty picture with her words. Late nights and libraries and watching the sunrise from rooftops, of all-night diners and coffee shops, parties that offered more than beer and Everclear. A city where all their dreams could come true. Olivia still had a corkboard hidden away in her closet back home, covered in purple-and-gold UW paraphernalia.

Olivia had never dreamed they’d live together under circumstances like these. It would’ve required her, at fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, to have imagined a future where she didn’t get that scholarship she needed, where she went to WSU instead so as to not burden Dad financially, where she and Margot stopped speaking, where she married Brad and spent a decade stuck in neutral, spinning her wheels before divorcing him, moving back home—a million bad decisions she tried not to beat herself up over because the past was the past.

Everyone slowly migrated in the direction of the door.

“See you for the cake tasting,” Brendon said.

Olivia nodded. “Looking forward to it.”

Elle waved as they disappeared down the hall. Margot shut the door, fingers lingering on the lock, her back to Olivia. Reality set in, and along with it, an oppressive shroud of silence. For the first time in eleven years, she and Margot were alone together. Really, truly alone. No one to barge in, no interruptions.

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