Ferrari (Completed)

Exhaust: 15

We're about halfway through this book now 😱 How are you all finding it?? And how are ya'll coping with quarantine? Are you all okay???

Hope you're all safe and healthy. 

Lots of love ❤️🥰

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We hurry over the sidewalk, speed walking towards Pablo's Pizza. It shouldn't be open this late, but everything is open when you have money.

Oliver leads the way, his body much more agile than mine. I'm being weighed down by this dress and these impossible heels. He's patient, though, making sure our hands stay intertwined. The bell above the door rings as we barge into the restaurant.

"Pablo!" Oliver cheers, smiling brightly at the man behind the counter.

"Oliver and Lucy," he grins. "It's nice to see you two again."

"Thanks for opening up for us tonight."

"Oh, that's not a problem. I've already got your pizzas in the oven."

"Thanks, man! You're the best."

We walk further into the restaurant, sitting down in the back, at the same table the whole football team used to sit at after their games. In fact, the current Westchester Prep players probably sat here today, too.

"Oh my god, my feet are killing me," I complain, collapsing in my seat.

"Take your shoes off, baby. Make yourself comfortable."

"Baby," I repeat, loving the sound of that word.

"Yes," he grins. "Baby."

Argh. I'm so happy. He's so perfect. I love him so much.

I kick off my shoes but cross my legs in my seat to avoid touching the floor. I'm still in my dress. It feels weird sitting here in these clothes, but it's not like there's anyone else here to judge us. Besides, Oliver looks hot as fuck in a tux.

"I can't believe we're back here," I say.

"It feels overdue, don't you think?"

"Definitely," I nod.

"I should've taken you here as soon as your flight landed," he jokes.

"Would you actually have done that?"

"If I knew you wanted to be with me, yes, definitely."

"Weren't you mad?"

"About our break up?" he scowls. "It hurt, but I knew it was the best thing for you."

"What about me not telling you I was coming?"

"No way," he scoffs. "I was just glad to have you back."

"Were you really, or are you just saying that?"

"I mean it," he chuckles. "I was surprised but happy. It was time for you to come home."

"I think so too," I smile. "Thank you for being so understanding."

"Thank you for coming back."

"What?" I scowl. "Don't say that. Of course, I'd come back."

"I didn't always know that," he tells me. "I mean, I always hoped you would, but I couldn't be sure. You were gone so long."

"I'm sorry about that. I tried to come sooner, but I didn't have the guts."

"It's okay, I don't blame you. But it was hard. We didn't end things badly. Our breakup was amicable, right? It was for your mental health, so I kept hoping you'd come back whenever you were ready. But the months kept passing, and then a year, and I hadn't heard anything from you."