Count Your Lucky Stars: A Novel

Margot glared at the purple bruise mottling the side of her left foot. Her pinky toe was swollen, double the size it was supposed to be. It throbbed in time with her pulse, an annoyance more than anything, though when she put pressure on it, pain licked at the top of her foot, radiating all the way to her ankle.

A knock sounded against the door. Not the one that led out into the hotel hall, but the door adjoining her room to Olivia’s.

Margot tried to swallow, her mouth suddenly dry. She stole a stuttered breath in, air whistling between her lips. “Come in.”

Olivia poked her head into the room. In the time since they’d returned to the hotel, she’d changed into a pair of leggings and an oversized hoodie. The arms were too long, slipping past her wrists and over the back of her hands, hiding all but the tips of her fingers. She shoved her sleeves up to her elbows and shut the door, leaning against it, leaving the entire room between them. The space felt larger than it really was. “Hey. How are you doing?”

Awful. Better now that Olivia was here.

Margot sniffed and shrugged, dropping her gaze to the embroidered coverlet folded at the foot of the bed. “You know. Been better.”

“Your foot?” Olivia shoved away from the door, approaching the bed where Margot lay, three pillows behind her back keeping her propped up, another stack keeping her foot elevated. “How’s it doing?”

Margot pressed her lips together, offering a wry smile. “Hurts like hell. Looks even worse.” She sat up, adjusting the pillows, wincing at the sharp twinge that traveled along the side of her foot from her pinky to her ankle. “Gnarly, right? I took two extra-strength Advil and am hoping they kick in sometime this century.” She snagged a spare pillow from beside her and hugged it. “But I think Luke’s assessment was right. It’s not broken. I can move it, it just hurts like a bitch when I do. I guess it’s only badly bruised.” She bared her teeth in a grimace. “Same as my pride, apparently.”

Talk about feeling like a complete idiot. Not only had she wiped out, but she’d done it publicly, in full view of a dozen skiers. Olivia and Luke had had a front-row seat, and granted, she’d been more focused on the pain that anything else in the moment, but she had a vague recollection of several small children pointing at her. Yikes.

Olivia nibbled on her bottom lip. An hour after their kiss and Margot would swear she could still taste the buttery sweetness of Olivia’s vanilla-flavored ChapStick.

“Why would you do that, Margot?” Olivia asked. She shook her head slowly. “I mean, no offense, but you are terrible at skiing.”

“I—”

“The worst.”

Margot pursed her lips. It was on the tip of her tongue. Not everyone can be perfect at everything like Luke, but that would’ve taken bratty to a whole new level, even for her. Jealousy and insecurity had gotten her into this mess in the first place, leaving her with a swollen foot, bruised pride, and a tender heart.

Maybe it was time to try something new. Take Elle’s advice. Be honest.

“There isn’t a chance we could put a pin in this conversation and circle back around in, say . . . a few days?” she joked.

Olivia didn’t laugh. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip, no longer nibbling, but biting down on it outright. Her lashes fluttered with every rapid blink, the skin around her eyes turning pink. “Do you realize how scared I was?” Her voice broke and Margot’s chest splintered open. “Watching you hit that barrier? Not knowing if you were okay or hurt or—”

“I was fine, Liv.” She gestured to her propped-up foot. “A little bruised, and I’m going to have to limp down the aisle on Saturday—no heels for me, un-fucking-fortunately—but I’m fine.”

Olivia sniffed hard and scrubbed the side of her hand under her eyes. “I didn’t know that. How was I supposed to know you were fine? I saw you careen down a hill, collide with a barrier, and collapse. My mind went to the worst places, but can you blame me?”

Margot hugged the pillow tighter, chest panging with remorse, a sharp stab between her ribs that stole her breath for a split second. She hadn’t meant to make Olivia worry, to give her any cause for concern. Hurting Olivia was the last thing she wanted, right up there with losing her.

Collapse might’ve been a bit of an overstatement, but what had Margot told Elle this morning in the gift shop? Not to underestimate Margot’s ability to catastrophize? Margot could definitely relate, imagining the worst possible scenarios, watching them play out inside her head.

Contradictory to the ache in her chest, her stomach fluttered. The timing was completely terrible, but the proof that Olivia cared about her enough to get choked up made Margot hope that maybe all of her worst-case scenarios were as far-fetched as Elle had guaranteed they’d be. The way Olivia had kissed her at the base of the slope, trembling hands cradling her face, was the first sign. This was the second. Now all Margot needed was confirmation.

“I’m sorry, Liv. I didn’t anticipate crashing. Who would? You can’t see something like that coming.” She swallowed hard, the analogy hitting a little close to home, making her pulse flutter wildly inside her veins, nerves turning her stomach queasy. “You and Luke made it look so easy, and I was doing great on the bunny slope.” When Olivia’s brows rose, her expression calling bullshit, Margot amended, “I was doing okay on the bunny slope. I figured I knew how to stop at least.” But it was different, stopping after gaining that much speed. “I just . . .”

Saw Luke with his hands all over Olivia, watched her put her number in his phone at the top of the taller slope, saw red, didn’t think. Naturally, Margot was a competitive person. At the time, it had made perfect sense to push herself a little harder, put the skills—she was being generous, in hindsight—she’d acquired to the test. Prove that she could be every bit as athletic as Luke, as desirable as Luke. She wasn’t proud of it, but that’s where her brain had been at, what had driven her to ride that people mover to the taller slope before she was ready.

Olivia crossed her arms, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Aside from that small show of impatience, Olivia seemed content to wait Margot out.

Here went nothing.

“I was jealous, okay?” Margot clutched the pillow tighter. “I was jealous, and it’s stupid. I’m not proud of it. The opposite. I mean . . . hell, Liv. You think I like feeling this way? Because I don’t. I hate it.” She swallowed before her voice could crack. “Luke keeps flirting with you, and I thought I could handle it, but then I saw you give him your number—I mean, I think that’s what you were doing?—and I just . . . I didn’t think.”

She’d acted on impulse.

“So what?” Olivia crossed her arms, teeth scraping her lip, abusing it further. “You’re upset because someone else wants me?”

“No.” Her heart stuttered, her stomach dropping. “That’s not it at all. I’m halfway convinced the whole world wants you, Liv. You have no idea, the—the appeal you have. I don’t want you because Luke wants you. I want you because I . . .” Fuck. Margot took a deep breath in, air shuddering between her lips. “I’ve always wanted you. I have feelings for you, okay? I care about you. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. No one gets me the way you get me. I’ve never felt like I’d die if I didn’t touch someone. You make me feel that way.” Margot’s jaw clenched and slid forward in a bid to keep her tears at bay. “This isn’t new. This isn’t because of Luke. It just—it just is. It’s how I feel.”

Olivia crossed her arms and scoffed. “You’re ridiculous. Do you realize that?”

Fuck. She’d known this would happen. Knowing didn’t dull the ache in her chest. Her pulse pounded painfully in her throat, the ache worsening when she swallowed. “I’m sorry, okay? I can’t help the way I feel about you. If you think I’m so ridiculous—”

“Shut up.” Olivia laughed and pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. “You are the most infuriating person I’ve ever known, Margot.”

Margot hunched over her pillow, breath coming too fast. She sniffed hard, eyes burning and vision blurring. Fuck. “Got to admit, not the superlative I was aiming for. Best at delivering a witty repartee or greatest at giving head, but most infuriating. Whew.”

God, she’d fucked up. Stepped in it. Crossed a line. Gone too far. All she’d wanted was to keep Olivia, but in trying, she’d pushed her away. How fucked up was that? Jealousy was never an attractive trait in a partner, and they weren’t even that. They were friends—and Margot would be lucky if Olivia even wanted to remain that after her atrocious behavior. She steeled herself for rejection.

Olivia dropped her hands, letting them hang limply at her sides. “Luke is a really nice guy.”

Shit. Here it was. Tension knotted in the pit of her stomach, her insides churning. She didn’t need to hear the rest. “You don’t need to—”

“Oh my God, Margot, please, for the love of all that’s holy, be quiet.” Olivia huffed, and her hair, gathered in a high ponytail, skimmed her shoulders as she shook her head.

Margot bit her tongue, all the words she wanted to say clogging her throat.

“Luke is a nice guy,” Olivia repeated, twisting the knife a little deeper. Her shoulders rose, and her spine straightened as if she was fortifying herself to deliver the final blow. Her gaze locked on Margot, and the look in her eyes—steely and determined, a flicker of something Margot couldn’t name flashing through them—snatched the air straight out of Margot’s lungs. “But I don’t want Luke.” Her throat jerked and a small smile tugged at her lips. “I want you.”

Margot’s heart rose into her throat like a helium-filled balloon.

Olivia wanted her.

Her heart stuttered.

Olivia wanted her how?

She clutched her pillow like a lifeline.

“I don’t think I can do casual, Liv,” Margot confessed, laying her cards and heart completely on the table. “I’m, uh, apparently not capable of keeping things casual. Not when it comes to you.” She laughed and scrubbed a hand over her face. “I’m really terrible at it. Almost as bad at it as I am at skiing.”

Olivia laughed, and the sound loosened the knots inside Margot.

“I don’t know how to be anything but all in when it comes to you, Liv,” she confessed.

Olivia took a slow, hesitant-looking step toward the bed, and then another, this one a little surer, faster. Every step caused Margot’s nerves to ratchet. Olivia sat on the edge of the bed and wiped her palms against her thighs. “All in, huh?”

“All in,” Margot confirmed, voice shaking. She tossed the pillow aside and shifted, facing Olivia as best she could with her foot propped up, elevated above her heart. Doctor’s orders. “Any time you want to, I don’t know, say something reassuring, feel free.”

She reached out and grabbed Margot’s hand, lacing their fingers together. That gesture, in and of itself, gave Margot hope. People didn’t often hold hands with someone they were planning on letting down gently. “I kissed you, remember?”

“How could I forget?” Margot teased.

“I don’t . . .” Olivia blushed. “I’ve only ever been with you and—and Brad. I’ve never done casual.” She smiled. “I guess, suffice it to say, it was never casual for me, either.” Olivia squeezed her fingers and laughed. “We could’ve avoided this by talking about it. I’m going to blame your dirty mouth for distracting me.”

Margot’s ears burned, and a laugh bubbled up past her lips. “My bad?”

“If it wasn’t what you wanted, how come you acted like it was?”

“I didn’t know what you wanted, and I worried that if I told you what I wanted and we weren’t on the same page, you’d . . . I don’t know . . . feel weird about it and it would mess up Brendon’s wedding. Or you’d feel uncomfortable and want to move out of the apartment. And I didn’t want that. I don’t want that. So I thought I’d play it safe. I thought I could keep feelings out of it.” Her lips twisted in a wry smile. “Considering . . . you know, I really should’ve known better.”

Hand still gripping Margot’s, Olivia frowned. “Considering what?”

Margot dropped her eyes to her lap and huffed out a laugh. “I don’t really want to rehash the past, Liv.”

“Not to be pedantic here, but I think we’d have to have hashed it before we could rehash it.”

Margot shut her eyes, cringing inside. “We slept together. Brad wanted you back. You got back together. End of story.”

Olivia dropped Margot’s hand, her face cycling through a flurry of expressions before she shook her head, jaw hanging open. “I’m sorry. What?”

“You were there. You know what happened.” Please don’t make her spell it out.

Olivia scoffed softly. “The way I remember it, I texted you, told you Brad wanted to get back together, asked you what—”

“You shouldn’t have had to ask,” she blurted, cringing almost immediately. God, she couldn’t believe they were really doing this. “We spent the week together. We—I thought it meant something. I thought—” Fuck. Margot exhaled harshly and met Olivia’s eyes. “You were my first, you know? And it’s not like I ever planned to put a lot of stock in that sort of thing.” She licked her lips. “Or, I didn’t, until it was you. So yeah, it meant something to me. And I thought you knew that. Then you text me telling me your ex wants to get back together and you ask me what I think you should do? I’d have hoped the answer would’ve been obvious, but the fact that you asked, that you asked me . . . fuck, Liv. How do you think that made me feel? How do you think it made me feel when a few weeks later when I found out—secondhand—that you weren’t going to UW like we’d talked about, like we’d planned? That, instead, you’d thrown all our plans away to go to WSU instead. To be with Brad. How do you think I felt?”

As if Olivia choosing Brad hadn’t been bad enough, Margot had felt like her best friend, the girl she loved, the person she believed would always be there . . . suddenly wasn’t. Like Olivia was abandoning not just their plans, but Margot, too. Like maybe Margot hadn’t meant as much to Olivia as Olivia had to her. Not if she was so easy to move on from. So easy to forget.

Olivia guppied, mouth opening and shutting before she blurted, “That’s not what happened at all.”

Margot crossed her arms. “I was there, Liv. I’m pretty sure I know what happened.”

Olivia pressed a hand to her forehead and sighed. “Okay, first, I didn’t follow Brad to WSU. The scholarship I applied for? I got rejected.” Her lips twisted and she dropped her eyes. “Even with the scholarship, UW was going to be more expensive than WSU. Without it?” She shook her head. “If I had told Dad I had my heart set on UW, he’d have tried to figure something out, but I couldn’t ask him to do that. I couldn’t ask him to burden himself financially when I’d gotten into another perfectly good school that was offering me a scholarship.” Olivia scratched the tip of her nose. “Did it help that Brad was going there, too? That we were back together and that—at the time—he wanted me? That I knew he wanted me? I won’t lie and say that wasn’t a perk, a point in WSU’s favor. But it wasn’t the reason, Margot.”

Margot swallowed over the lump in her throat. “Oh.”

She bit back the next words that almost came out of her mouth. Why didn’t you tell me that? But she already knew the answer. They were barely talking back then, mostly because post-hookup, Margot had avoided Olivia, preferring to lick her wounds in private. To suffer in silence. Look how well that had served her.

“As for why I asked what you thought I should do, it’s because I wanted you to tell me that. I wanted you to tell me you wanted me. That’s why I asked. We hadn’t talked about it. What it meant. How we felt. I’d hoped you’d tell me . . .” Olivia’s teeth sank into her bottom lip. “All I wanted was for you to want me the way I wanted you.”

She had. God, had she ever. “I did. I . . .” She shook her head. “That was eleven years ago, Liv. We were eighteen and—”

“We shouldn’t waste time on what-ifs.” Olivia’s lips quirked, smile small and subdued. “You’re right. Who’s to say what would’ve happened? There’s a million ways it could’ve gone right and a million more ways it could’ve blown up in our faces.”

Margot nodded. As much as she’d wanted Olivia back then, she hadn’t been ready for a serious relationship at eighteen. Clearly, her communication skills had needed some work—in all likelihood they still did, but she was a work in progress and she was trying and wasn’t that half the battle, really?—and all that teenage angst had been a recipe for disaster. “But now?”

Olivia leaned in, lips brushing the corner of Margot’s mouth in a kiss that was far too brief. She drew back and met Margot’s eyes. “Now.”