A/N: I'm struggling here, but I made a promise & I keeps my promises.

Chapter 5

Olivia completely understands why he hasn't answered any of her text messages. She gets it. She's stretched the relationship a little thin and they're already on unstable ground as is. And if the roles were reversed, she probably wouldn't be responding to his messages either.

Bloodshed and a slightly fractured nose will do that to you.

Instead of using the extra key on her keyring, she rings his doorbell and she waits, hopeful that he's actually in there. And that he forgives her intrusion and he invites her inside. It's not long before the door is being whipped open and he's standing there in a t-shirt and sweat pants, his features questioning her unannounced visit and his face only slightly bruised. Under his eyes is darkened, but it isn't that bad. She's seen worse. On both of them, actually.

"Hi," Olivia blurts and his eyes narrow at her before they drift down to the boy standing between them. "Elliot, this is my son, Noah. Noah, this is—"

"Uncle Elliot?" Noah asks, tilting his head back to get a glimpse of his mother's face.

"Yes," she tells him.

"Hi, Noah," Elliot says, offering his fist to him. Noah smiles up at him and they bump fists and instantly Olivia exhales, relieved. She could've called Lucy, but it'd been a part of her plan. How angry can you be when there's an adorable child around? How angry can you be when you are being fed a homecooked meal?

Olivia has two brown paper bags in her arms and Elliot reaches for them, silently offering to carry them for her. He eyes her suspiciously but he drops his head to the side, signaling inside his apartment. "Come in," he steps aside and allows them to walk into his home. "What's all this?"

"We brought food," Noah explains. "Do you like spaghetti? Mom's making spaghetti and meatballs. I got to choose."

Elliot chuckles. "I love spaghetti."

"Me, too! I love spaghetti!" Noah says. Olivia watches from the kitchen as Noah walks into the Stabler residence like he's been there before. He fiddles with random trinkets lined on the desk and television stand in the living room, his big blue eyes temporarily fascinated with the new space.

"You're cooking?"

Olivia drags her attention from her son to Elliot and she offers him an apologetic smile, despite his insulting emphasis on 'you're'. She's sorry and she's said it a dozen times or so, so she bites back another apology. "Just spaghetti. I'm sure you probably haven't eaten."

"I ate."

Her eyes narrow as she tries to gauge how upset he really is. It's only been a day and they did spend three hours in the emergency room together last night at her insistence. He'd told her repeatedly that he was fine, that his nose would be fine, but she forced him. I'll call a bus right now, she'd threatened. So they spent hours waiting to see a doctor only to be told he'll heal just fine on his own. "You're still mad at me," she decides.

"I am not."

Her hands drop onto the counter and her head tilts as she takes his face in, from his worried eyebrows on down. She drums her fingers for a moment before fisting them into balls. "I can tell."

"It was my fault. You said no." He's saying it's not her fault but the look on his face tells her otherwise.

"I did say no," she agrees anyway.

"So, I shouldn't have... I'm sorry."

Olivia smiles. "It's okay."

"I uh…" Elliot twists his mouth to the side and she watches as he mulls whatever it is in his head. His left eye squints and his head drops.

"Just say it," she snaps.

"A few people have mentioned that you've been through a lot of shit," he says, one hand rubbing over his beard. He draws his eyes up and he finally looks at her. "You've never hit me before. And I've probably deserved it a couple of times."

Olivia turns her attention to the brown bags and she reaches in, pulling out a package of ground turkey that she pretends to inspect, just to keep her eyes off of him. "What is your question?" she asks, though she knows exactly what he's talking about.

"You're not violent," Elliot offers before smirking. "Generally speaking," he adds, his voice dropping an octave. When she doesn't smile at his joke, his head dips down and he tries to catch her eyes. He waits for as long as he can before he gives up and he just requests, "please tell me what happened."

"Nothing happened, Elliot. My concern is you. Not me. I'm fine."

"You sound like me," he accuses softly. "You got 'I'm fine' from me. You forget who you're talking to?" His voice is gentle but she feels the anger in her flare regardless.

They always do this. Never once has he said to her, 'hey Liv, it's been raining a lot lately.' It's never about the weather and the innocuous chatter never lasts. It's always about ruffling her feathers and addressing everything head on now.

She hates it.

"If there is anything I feel like sharing with you, I'll share it with you... when I am good and ready." Olivia finally pulls her eyes away from the vegetables she's unloading from the bag and they rest on him only for a beat before she looks just beyond him. She nods her head in the direction of her son as he walks over to them and their conversation is over by default. They both watch as he climbs onto to stool just to the left of Elliot.

"I Declare War?" Noah asks holding up a deck of cards. "Can we play?" he asks Elliot.

"I'm really good at this game," Elliot brags. "But if you don't mind losing..."

"No! I never lose! I always beat Mom. Ask her." Elliot and Olivia silently watch as Noah deals the cards. "Is this the only game you have? After I beat you, we could play something else."

Elliot chuckles. "We've got tons of games. When Eli comes over we can play one," he promises.

Olivia turns her attention back to unloading the groceries. Items for a salad, bread, spaghetti pasta, tomato sauce, and a handful of seasonings. She moves around his kitchen, peering in cabinets, taking out what she'll need while Elliot and Noah play behind her. She's smiling because it almost sounds like her and Elliot as her son accuses him of cheating every other minute. They fall into an effortless rhythm and as they laugh together, she finds herself laughing along with them... until deja vu settles over her and she's back in the squad room as a detective watching Elliot play Rock, Paper, Scissors with Calvin Arliss.

She hates this part of PTSD because no matter how much work she's done, things still trigger her. She still gets overwhelmed, still has to ground herself and push forward, despite all of the gnawing in her mind.

"You alright, Liv?" Elliot's voice brings her back to present day and Calvin's face diminishes. He'd given her the first taste of motherhood and she'd loved it and grieved deeply when she lost it. Elliot had been there for that and he had supported her through that loss and so many others.

What if he'd been here for her most recent losses? Would she be who she is today? Would she have suffered the same?

"Noah, I don't think your mother has ever cooked for me," Elliot says and Olivia drags her eyes back to them, forcing herself to blink, to accept that the image of her child and Elliot Stabler playing cards is in fact real.

"She cooks only sometimes. A lot of times we eat delivery!"

Elliot snorts. "I believe that."

"That's not true," she finally says, finding her voice. "Noah, I cook," Olivia defends, forcing a smile to her face.

"Okay," Noah appeases, if you say so dripping in his undertone.

"I've never cooked for you? Ever?" she asks Elliot and he shrugs. The longer she looks at him, the less she has to force the smile. This is real, she thinks.

Elliot taps at the half-deck of cards in his hand as he thinks about it. "You've made coffee and ordered me takeout."

Olivia leans onto the counter, her cocoa-brown eyes narrowing, her mouth smirking. "And what the hell have you ever cooked me?" Noah laughs at her naughty word, but he says nothing. His focus is on the card game that's never stopped.

Elliot's face splits into a grin. "I think I bought you every lunch you ever ate as my partner."

"Well, you know what it's like to work with you. I think I earned that."

Elliot motions to his nose and the bruising under his eyes. "I think I've earned this dinner, too."

—

"What are you doing?"

"Where are the plug-ins I bought? Smells like socks in here."

Elliot ignores her jab. "You don't have to do this because you broke my nose."

"It's not broken," she whispers and she steps forward, cupping his jaw in her hand, inspecting him. A little swollen, a little bruised but still straight. His bushy brows furrow and he pulls his upper lip into his mouth as her brown eyes continue their inspection.

It's uncomfortable being under her gaze. Especially if he is to not kiss her again. Jesus. He'd been left with a bloody nose the last time he kissed her without her approval and he finds himself actually considering kissing her again. She's so close, her eyes so big with worry. "Liv, I'm fine."

"I know. I just." Her hand drops from his face and she slips both of her hands into her back pockets.

"What is it?" he asks. She'd beckoned him to his bedroom after only being there for five minutes. She already had his worn t-shirts and undershirts in a pile, preparing for a load of laundry. He'd recognized her nervous energy instantly. The second dinner was simmering on the stove, she began picking up around the apartment, light cleaning, a little reorganizing and he'd let her. "Liv, I'm looking at you and you've been on the verge of tears since you got here."

"I'm fine," she repeats.

"Fine my ass."

"It's ancient stuff. Stuff I've dealt with. I'm fine." She shrugs and she shakes her head as she tries to calm herself down. Should she tell him about all of her losses over the last decade? Does that shit even really matter? William Lewis doesn't deserve to have his name spoken, he doesn't deserve her tears, and even still her nose burns as she tries her damndest to keep a straight face.

"You're not okay," he tells her softly. He watches as her face crumbles and tears slip down her cheeks and he sees the shock read on her face by her own emotion. "Jesus, Liv, what is it?" He hears his heart thundering in his chest, his blue eyes are wide and concerned, but she just stands there with two perfect streams slipping down her cheeks. "Come here. Please," he tells her, opening his arms to her. When she doesn't step forward, slowly, cautiously, he wraps her in his arms, embracing her warmly. She melts into him, her eyes closing, her hands grasping at the back of his shirt. "What happened?" She shakes her head against him. The words are at the tip of her tongue, but she trips. She doesn't know where to start. "Please tell me."

"I told you, El. This is too much."

"What's too much?"

"Everything."

Elliot's arms tighten around her, before finally she taps his sides and she pulls away. "I just need a second," she whispers.

"Whatever has happened, Liv... is that what this has been about?"

"No. I'm sorry," Olivia whispers, wiping her face. "Can you give me a second? I promise I am fine. Go check on the food. I don't want your apartment building burning down," she jokes tearfully, plastering a smile on her face.

He doesn't want to leave. He wants every single detail. He almost tells her this, but her shiny, brown eyes beg for a moment alone.

He gives it to her.

—

Eli is visiting and he likes Noah enough to keep up a conversation. It's surreal watching the young adult in front of her. He's almost a man and she'd been there to witness his birth. She almost blanches at the thought.

She should be enjoying dinner with Elliot and his son, who she practically delivered, and her son, who is happy to just have guys to talk to. But her mind is stuck and she's replaying her life from the moment she joined SVU and questioning every major decision she's ever made. She tries to pinpoint when she fell for Elliot because it hadn't always been that way. They were just partners for a long time before she ever started wanting more. How could she let herself fall?

The lines on his slim face, the ease in which he steers the conversation between Noah and Eli, how comfortable and rooted he looks as an older man makes the years expand in her mind. Ten years feel like a lifetime and when he offers her a smile, she smiles back. She thinks about how she begged him to get help and she wonders why she hadn't taken her own advice? Why hadn't she scheduled time to talk all of this shit out because suddenly she felt it all seeping through her pores. Fury, anguish, regret, it all was coming out at once and she feels his eyes on her as she fights through it.

He sees that she's counting down the seconds until she's able to grab her son and make her escape. He's seen her run before, he knows exactly what it looks like. When Noah is asking to be excused from the table, before Olivia tells him to get his sneakers back on, Elliot bribes Eli to take Noah to his room and to keep him busy. When they are gone, he and Olivia clear the table in silence.

"Let me," he says, pulling her away from the sink. She stands behind him for a moment shifting uncomfortably. "Take a seat," he says, his elbow jutting toward the counter just behind him. "We don't have to talk about it, but please don't leave."

Olivia nods and eases herself onto the counter. "I'm sorry about that earlier. I didn't expect to be so emotional today."

He chuckles and he turns his back to her to begin washing their dishes from dinner. "Me either. You laughed last night."

She finds herself laughing to herself again. "I should've hit you like that when you screamed at me in the squad room."

"If I remember correctly, I wasn't screaming by myself."

"A lot of shit happened when you were gone," she rushes out in a small, hushed voice. She sees his shoulders go rigid and his spine straightens. "I uh... I went through hell. I still... sometimes I think about how some things shouldn't have happened. And then I get on this 'what if' kick and that really just sends me…"

He turns around to look at her and he's wide-eyed with a tense jaw, but he says nothing.

"One day, I'll give you the details. All of them."

Elliot nods as he turns the faucet off and he turns to face her, leaning on the edge of the sink.

"But it.. the experiences, they changed me."

"Olivia."

"I didn't mean to hit you and I didn't even think about it until I got home. Why I'd hit you. And then from there, my mind has been in a downward spiral…" she sighs. Her fists ball between her legs and she lets out a shuddering sigh. "Say something."

He turns to look at her again and he sees that her tears are falling again. "It was on the job? Did you get hurt on the job? Because I swear to God, that was my biggest fear. That nobody would have your back like me."

"I know in my heart things wouldn't have been the same had you been there."

"Damn right."

"I know you would've raised hell for me."

"I would've," Elliot agrees.

"But you didn't," she barks, but it's quiet. Despite the subject matter, their voices remain hushed. "I don't mean it's your fault... but the truth of the matter is that you didn't. You couldn't have. Because you left."

"I was out of options, Liv."

"Well, I can't have a crutch again. I'm great now. I'm good. I'm solid. I have my people. I fought for this stability and-"

"I'm not here to take any of that away from you," he says, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You don't know what it's like to be alone. Or to put everything into just one person," she says, her voice small and shattering. "And then to have that person just go? The most important person?"

"Liv."

"I don't want to get hurt and I don't want to hurt you. There's so much swirling between us, I don't even know which way is up."

"What do you want me to do? I can't guarantee you I'll never hurt you. No one can."

"I know that," she whispers. "It's just better for me if we stay friends. Just friends."

"Can we just be honest here for a second?" Elliot poses and she nods quickly. "I've loved you for the last twenty years, Liv."

"Me, too," she blurts and then they just gaze at each other. Now another I love you hangs between them and this time, they both feel relief. The smile on her face mirrors his and as his smile grows, so does hers. "I love you, too," she clarifies softly. She's saying the words for the first time and it feels good to finally be able to reciprocate what's true. Maybe all she needed was to break under pressure a bit, be human, be heard, and let a little bit of pressure off her shoulders.

She loves him and the world hadn't ended and maybe they'll be okay if she just fucking breathes.

"I'm so sick of staying away from you. I did that already. Tried it and failed. My biggest regret over the last ten years is that we never got the chance to figure this out."

"What about Kathy?" she asks. There will be a day, she hopes, that she won't feel like she's taking from Kathy Stabler the closer she gets to him. It makes her cringe inwardly to even ask about his wife, but she has to. They're addressing things head on, right?

"You know that I loved her. Please don't do that. I respected my wife. I miss her every day."

"I'm sorry." She'd never meant to imply otherwise. "I've just been a little…" she uses her finger to draw circles by her temple, "crazy," she finishes. "I've been so stuck in my head and-"

"You don't have anything to apologize for."

"Come here." By now her tears have run dry. The paper towel in her hand has wiped away the remnants and she looks good as new, aside from the redness in her eyes and her nose. Elliot kicks off the cabinet and he steps between her legs. His fists land on the outside of her thighs and her hands cover his. She runs her fingers across his knuckles before his hands turn upward and he grasps her hands in his. Her eyes drag from their hands up to his face and with just one look, one beat, she feels her eyes fill again.

"Don't cry again. Please." Her eyes are closed when she leans forward, resting her forehead onto his. "Please."

"I'm not crying," she lies.

"I'm looking at you."

She smiles and her eyes flutter open to find his glistening blue eyes staring right back at her. There are a plethora of things that she could say. She considers joking with him, telling him something cliche like big girls don't cry. She wants to shake off all of the emotion still festering between them, laugh it all off, tell him that she's fine but she knows it won't work.

Instead, she makes a request. She asks for something that she knows they both want. "Kiss me."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," she whispers.

He pulls his head back to look at her and he takes in her face, the freckles she keeps hidden under makeup, her red-rimmed eyes that have somehow darkened in the last minute. Her hair is lighter, he notices. She looks younger than before, lighter on her feet and maybe this is what she's needed all along. To share her burden with him. He leans forward, their noses brushing slightly and she tilts her lips for him, bringing them slightly closer to his, but not touching. It feels like they spend an eternity, a lifetime, breathing the same air before he captures her lips in a kiss.

Her hands are on his face, her fingertips touching his ears. She grins against his mouth for a second because they're hot to the touch, like he is scared to do this, like a blush has crept up his body at just the touch of her lips.

He kisses her with his reins pulled tight and she senses the hesitancy. Instead of pulling away, she pulls him closer, taking over for him. She thrusts her tongue into his mouth, leaning backward just to get him a little bit closer. She grasps at him, holding him closer, her thumbs rub over his ear lobes, over his beard before her hands drag down his neck, grabbing onto his t-shirt.

When his knees hit the cabinets beneath her, she wraps a leg around his hips. His hands are on her bare back, burning trails to the front of her torso, stopping just underneath her breasts. It escalates quicker than she expects and before she finds herself naked in his kitchen, she breaks her mouth from his. "El," she groans into his neck. They embrace in a hug, her forehead dropping down to his shoulder.

"We can't."

"Right," Olivia agrees. "The kids. We can't."

—

"Are you going to Garland's tomorrow?"

Olivia looks up at him, her eyes connecting with his. "Yes," she answers softly.

Elliot nods once and his eyes shift back to the television. "Cool." Her head is in his lap and his fingers brush her hair absently. After their exhausting conversation, she threw herself across the couch and after he finished washing dishes, he joined her. He picked her shoulders up and slid beneath her head and she fanned her hair out over his lap. Since then his fingers have been buried down to her scalp.

"He called Edgar, too. Invited him and told him that he'd already spoken to me. It was out of my hands."

"You could've said no."

"El," she sighs. "I don't want to argue with you tonight."

"This isn't an argument."

"Look, I kept forcing this Edgar thing because I knew he wouldn't hurt me and quite honestly I needed the distraction. I tried with him but my heart isn't in it. Couldn't even get my body to react for him unless..." Her eyes are closed and she bites at her lips before she continues. "I can't believe I'm saying this," she whispers. "I had to think about you to…"

"Say it, Liv."

"No."

"You had to think about me to get off?" He says it for her, a cocky grin gracing his face. "I could just make you come, Liv. Right now."

"The boys," she reminds him.

"They're sleeping now."

She licks her lips. The idea that he's willing and ready to drop down on his knees right here for her is a turn on. In fact, it makes her want to do the same. "Don't I owe you one?"

"What?"

She lifts up and she turns to look at him over her shoulder with her eyebrow lifted and a smirk on her lips.

"Liv?"

"You sure they're sleeping?"

"Snoring," he answers quickly.

She climbs off of the couch, landing gracefully onto her knees in front of him. Her eyes dart to his crotch and then to his eyes as she begins gathering her hair into a ponytail. "Take your pants down."

When he hesitates, both of her hands slide up his legs until they loop around the hem of his pants. The tips of her fingers hook and she tugs softly until his hands cover hers. He wants this. He's dreamed of this. Of having Olivia on her knees, at his mercy, but she's still red from fucking crying. "Liv—"

She laughs, humorlessly and she doesn't need him to say the words. "You're being noble again?"

"Or incredibly fucking stupid," he chuckles, sitting up, cupping her jaw in his hands. "I want this but I'd rather it be when you're ready. When you haven't just told me how scared you are of me... of us."

"That's never going to change," she whispers.

"I want it to feel right." He leans forward and he kisses her lips, but it's her tongue tasting his, her tongue in his mouth as she grasps onto his t-shirt. "Oliv-"

"Shut up," she mumbles against his lips. It just makes her want him more. That he's so invested in her wellbeing that his physical release means nothing to him. She tugs his hands away from her face as she climbs onto the couch with him, boldly depositing a knee on either side of him. "We can kiss right?"

Elliot smiles.

"I mean it's not the kiss I was going with," she teases, smirking. "And I promise, you'd have liked that kiss a whole hell of a lot more." She doesn't give him the chance to respond. Her mouth is on his again, and there's a plus side to being turned down twice by the same man. Now she gets to kiss him, learn him, what he likes, what he doesn't. And she also gets to teach him what she likes.

He likes her a little rough and he groans when she sinks her teeth into his bottom lip, when her nails dig a little deep. He likes the surprised sound she makes when she realizes how hard he is.

Olivia grabs for his wrists and she positions his hands on her ass and it's all the go ahead he needs. Elliot pulls her down on him so that when he grinds up into her she feels all of him. Though he's shied away from taking her right there on his couch, he still wants her. His erection is solid and almost throbbing beneath her and she swivels her hips until she has him lined up perfectly. His sweat pants are thin and the ridge of his dick swipes right over her and she moans right into his mouth.

His hands slide under her shirt again and they find her bra and this time he's unflinching. He snatches his mouth from hers, lifts her shirt, and he claws the cup of her bra down, snagging her hard nipple between his teeth. He sucks then, pulling as much of her breast into his mouth as he can. He has one rough hand gripping her breast and the other still anchoring her hips to him and they are fully reaching teen age level dry humping.

"More," she instructs and his hand slips between them and he begins to rub her over her jeans, but it isn't enough for her. Even with both of her breasts out, with his hands all over her, she needs more. Olivia sits up and she unbuttons her pants and she guides his hand past the zipper, right underneath her underwear. She leans her forehead against the salt and pepper of his beard, gasping, whimpering as his fingers expertly find her clitoris. It doesn't take much. The anticipation drives her half of the way there. Just a few quick motions of his fingertips and his mouth back on her nipple, his bottom teeth dragging over her breasts, his tongue and lips closing over the sensitive part of her neck and she's rejoicing from a quiet but mighty orgasm.

"Jesus," Olivia drags out, breathing heavily. She melds her lips to his for a chaste kiss, before she has his wrist in her hand, pulling his hand out of the front of her pants. She brings his wet fingers to her lips and with their eye contact unwavering, she pulls them into her mouth, sucking hard.

Elliot buckles and quickly recovers and he tells himself that he can't. He can't do this with her right now.

"You should go."

"Huh?"

Elliot lifts her from his lap and he's up on his feet before she can even protest. "I'll wake up Noah. You should head home. It's getting late."

Olivia laughs. Her pants are wide open and they've barely scratched the surface, and she has him running away from her already.

He has no idea what lies ahead for him.

—

It's her little joke now. That he won't be able to keep up with her when the time comes. She spends all of Sunday morning reminding him how he scurried off petrified and he lets her. He's confident, he says, that she'll eat every mocking word once he is able to have her in good conscience.

As the day progresses, Elliot offers to babysit for her date. Olivia tells him no. Emphatically. The answer is no. Hell no, even. But twenty minutes before Edgar is to arrive, Elliot shows up with a brand new deck of cards for Noah. "I saw it," Elliot had said. "I was shopping for my apartment and right there in the middle of T. J. Maxx—"

"You come here just before my date with a deck of cards from the bodega down the street? Go home," she'd roared, smirking. She knew exactly why he was there. Knew it had nothing to do with cards and everything to do with her date. He shouldered his way in and called for Noah and things have been going downhill from there. Noah wants Elliot to stay and Elliot wants her to stay and Lucy is more confused than anyone.

The doorbell rings, and she is with Lucy, Elliot, and Noah and they're all standing there in silence as she figures out whether or not she wants to even answer. "Luce, would you mind taking Noah to his bedroom?" She considers asking Elliot to join them, but she knows he won't. He's plopped himself onto a stool, his arms folded across his chest, puffing himself up to be a tad bigger than he already is. His eyes are on her and the second Noah is out of earshot, her mouth opens. "You sonofabit—"

"I bought your kid a gift," he says, cutting her off, smirking. He's so damned full of himself.

"This is why, Elliot. Oh, Liv, why don't you trust me?" she mocks as she sulks to the door. "Because of this. What happened in Italy, El? You lost your last marble there?"

"No. Here," he calls after her.

"This, once again, is too far."

With her hand on the doorknob, she gives him one last look. Behave, she begs.

Edgar kisses her when she opens the door for him. Without saying hello, he stoops down and he wraps his arms around her waist and he pulls her into a searing kiss, one that almost lifts her off of her feet completely. She's stunned, but she kisses him back and all that she is thinking is that if he ate pussy the way he was kissing her then maybe… maybe he'd be able to get her to come. "Jesus," she mumbles when he tears his lips from hers. "What was that?"

"I've been thinking about you. I missed you."

Behind her, she hears shuffling, and when she turns around Elliot is standing right there. She feels the rage from where she's standing but he's done it to himself. He didn't have to be here.

Edgar clears his throat. "Liv?"

"I'm sorry," Olivia says softly. "Elliot was just leaving."

"Uncle Elliot?" Edgar asks with a chuckle. He peers over her head and when he sees the other man his eyes drop back down to Olivia. "He's around a lot."

"That's right," Elliot says, and Olivia's mind flashes back to Dean Porter and Elliot and every awkward moment between them.

"He's babysitting?" Edgar laughs and he steps through the threshold of her home, walking until he's standing midway between Elliot and the door. "Oh, it's Elliot the nanny now?" Edgar jabs.

"Liv knows I'll be anything she needs," Elliot responds smugly.

"He's not babysitting," Olivia says, cutting in, fitting herself between the two men. "He's not even supposed to be here. Just showed up uninvited."

"If Liv needs me to watch her kid, I'll do that. Needs me to take care of anything else? And I mean anything—"

"Elliot."

"No, this sounds interesting. I heard he delivers food, too."

"Like I said. Anything." Elliot stands to his feet, his dimples deepening with his grin. "Alright. Good night."

"We'll talk about this later," Olivia promises, her eyes narrowing at Elliot.

As he walks past her, his hand grazes her hip gently. "Looking forward to it." He winks at her and behind him, he hears Edgar chuckling again.

When Elliot is gone, Olivia turns to Edgar who is looking at her expectantly. "The hell was that?" he asks.

"He stopped by uninvited, yes, but Uncle Elliot, Edgar? Seriously?"

"Me? I'm the one getting shit? What's going on with him, Olivia? I'm not the guy to chase someone who doesn't want to be chased."

"I'm not asking you to chase me," she says quickly. She grabs her purse off of the kitchen table and heads toward the door. "We're going to be late."

—

The ride to the Garland's house is silent and Olivia keeps herself more than distracted by tending to emails collecting in her inbox. Edgar keeps running his hands through his hair, keeps tapping the steering wheel with his fingers, and finally, when they pull up and he turns the ignition off, he reaches for her hand. "Let's have a good night tonight," he mumbles.

"That's all I want," Olivia says grasping his hand into hers.

He reaches over to console and he kisses her mouth. "Lamai is my friend. Let's just, please... I'm good at moving forward. We can go in there and pretend things are okay, right?"

"I thought things were okay."

"I don't want to see that guy again, Olivia. I was fine with it at first—"

"He's just protective."

"He's protective? Wasn't he gone for the last decade? His wife gets killed and suddenly he's back in your life? As what?"

"He's my friend."

"Christian said you were really close."

"We are," she corrects. They are really close.

"And now he's pursuing you?" When she doesn't answer, both of his hands come down hard on the steering wheel. "Fuck, Liv."

"Can you just—"

"Can I just what? I look like a fucking idiot. Lamai and Christian are my friends."

"Bring me home."

"No," he roars quietly. "This is already embarrassing enough."

"I'm sorry for Elliot. Okay?"

"I'm sorry if this is rude. I normally wouldn't ask a question I didn't already know the answer to but I just... are you fucking him?"

She gapes at him, but in the back of her mind she gets it. It's not far off. She'd ask the same if she were him so she honestly doesn't blame him. "I'm not sure what other type of women you date-"

"I'm not dating anyone else," he says quietly. "We're both busy but it's just you. I was hoping for over a year that you'd call me. When you finally did… there's just us, Olivia. At least for me." His words are clear and she feels guilty. He really likes her.

"Elliot is harmless." The lie comes so quickly, she's almost afraid of who she is slowly becoming. She'd been on her knees, in between his legs last night, ready to devour him. The last word she'd use to describe Elliot is harmless.

"He was harmless a few weeks ago when you wanted nothing to do with him. You said he didn't even know Noah."

"They just met yesterday."

"You were with him yesterday? And the day before that? So you've been with Elliot every day for the last three days?"

Wow. She's bad at this. "If we're going inside, can we go? I'm getting hot."

"Olivia."

"He's my friend."

"You never answered my question."

"No, I never had sex with him."

"Could you just speak plainly to me, Olivia? How do you feel about Elliot?"

She feels herself gulp as she prepares herself for the lie. "I love him."

The lie never comes.