Count Your Lucky Stars (Written in the Stars, #3)(96)

One hand braced against the headlight, chest heaving, her dark blond hair a halo of frizz around her face, stood Olivia.

Mud streaked the sides of her calves, caking her feet, and there was a tear in the side of her skirt along the seam, too ragged to be a slit. Even filthy, totally disheveled, and standing beside a monster truck, Olivia had never looked more breathtaking because she was here.

Margot opened her mouth and gestured weakly to the monster truck parked partially on the curb. “Truck?” She huffed and tried again. “Since when do you drive a truck?”

Was this thing even street legal? Fuck it. Margot couldn’t care less, because Olivia was here, and she was looking at Margot like she’d never been happier to see someone in her life. She was here.

Olivia stepped closer on wobbling legs, and when she laughed there was a frantic edge to it that made Margot’s heart clench. She stumbled over the curb, and Margot rushed toward her, catching her with both hands around her waist, steadying her. Olivia melted against Margot, her whole body shaking as if there were a current running through her, clearly adrenaline and who knew what else. “I stole it.”

Margot jerked back and her jaw fell open. “You stole a truck? Olivia.”

She wasn’t sure whether to be scandalized or proud or a little turned on or terrified or some dizzying combination of all of the above.

Olivia sputtered out another laugh and dipped her chin. “I stole a truck.”

That was—Margot didn’t have words. Or, she had words, but she wanted to hear what Olivia had to say. Needed to hear it. “Start from the beginning. Please.”

Olivia’s tongue darted out, sweeping against her bottom lip. “My dad is fine. You were right. You were absolutely right. He’s selling the house, but he’s okay and we cleared it all up. We’re fine. This morning I dropped my phone in the toilet while I was getting ready and now it’s a waterlogged hunk of junk and then my car wouldn’t start because of my plug sparks or something and I couldn’t call you because I don’t have your new number memorized and my neighbor was trying to work on the car but he couldn’t fix it and my dad had already left for his fishing trip and—and—”

“Hey.” Margot reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind Olivia’s ear. “Breathe.”

Olivia nodded and sucked in a rasping breath. “My car wouldn’t start. I didn’t know what to do. I was going to go to Brad and ask to borrow his car, which I didn’t exactly relish the idea of”—her lips twisted in a wry smile—“but I figured he owed me one.”

He owed Olivia several, but Margot held her tongue.

“He wasn’t home.” Her throat her jerked. “I had no idea how to get here, and I couldn’t contact anyone, but then I saw his truck in the yard and he left the keys inside and I—I thought about what you said. About not needing to ask anyone’s permission to be happy, so . . . I didn’t. I just took the truck.”

The pressure in Margot’s chest didn’t so much disappear as it was replaced with laughter that built until she couldn’t contain it. It burst from her lips. “You stole Brad’s truck.”

Olivia laughed. “I stole Brad’s truck!”

A throat cleared from behind them. Standing in the doorway, Brendon smiled crookedly. “Look, I’m really happy for you guys, but maybe you should talk about your grand theft auto at a slightly lower volume.”

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” Olivia said, cringing sharply.

Brendon waved her off. “No worries. We’ve got a little cushion.”

“We’ll be in in a minute,” Margot promised.

He winked, both eyes shutting instead of just the one, and ducked inside.

Margot’s cheeks ached from smiling. “That’s kind of hot, you know.”

“Me stealing a truck?” Olivia’s eyes crinkled at the corners.

“You stealing Brad’s truck,” she clarified.

Olivia brushed her fingers against Margot’s wrist and goose bumps erupted on her arms. Her lower lip wobbled gently. “I should’ve listened to you. Instead I almost didn’t make it and—I don’t know.” She ducked her chin. “I was standing there on Brad’s porch and it just hit me, how badly I want all of this. To be here. My whole life is here, and I love it here, I love what I do, and I—I’ve worked too hard this last year to just give up on it all. To throw it all away. When I was standing there and I realized I might not make it on time, I realized how badly I wanted everything I’ve worked for and how far I was willing to go to have it.” She tangled their fingers together and squeezed. “How far I was willing to go to keep it.”

Keep it. Margot’s heart soared. “Keep it, huh?”

Olivia laughed, free hand skimming Margot’s waist and wrapped around her, palm settling against the small of Margot’s back. Her smile fell, and her eyes went serious. “I am so sorry, Margot. For what I said. I—you were coming from a good place and I reacted poorly. When you said I was overreacting, it felt like you were belittling my feelings, and I lashed out. It was no excuse.”

Margot swallowed hard and brushed her thumb along the curve of Olivia’s cheek. There was a mysterious smudge that might’ve been grease, maybe mud, but Margot didn’t care. “I’m sorry, too. What I said about you overreacting was shitty, but everything else? Please tell me you understand that everything I said, I said because I care about you. You know that, right?”