No way it was the last night that we break up

I see your tail lights in the dust

….

In the middle of the night, pull it right back up

Yeah, my, my friends say, "Let her go"

Your friends say, "What the hell?"

I wouldn't trade your kind of love for nothin' else

-Morgan Wallen

Olivia leaned against her counter with her elbows pressing into the cold quartz surface as she tried to process the events of the previous couple of hours.

He had said some stupid things, but she didn't think he understood why they were stupid. She groaned and pressed the heel of her hands into her eyes. Why couldn't he just get it? Why did she have to spell out everything for him? They intuitively read each other for years, but they had never seemed to master communication in this once forbidden facet of their relationship.

She needed to stop assuming. He needed to stop talking—if only so he would stop saying stupid shit. Maybe it was time to lay everything on the table and let the chips fall where they may.

As if on cue, the sounds of a thick fist pounding on her door broke the silence of her still darkened apartment. There wasn't any doubt as to who stood on the other side of the door as she moved down the short entry.

"Olivia!"

Shit. He was going to make a scene, and she wasn't exactly interested in her neighbors becoming privy to her suddenly dramatic personal life.

"Come on, Liv! We gotta…

She flung the door open and gripped his shirt, pulling him through the door and instantly cutting off his bellowing.

He seemed surprised by her actions, but she quickly shut and latched the door behind him. Without looking in his direction, she moved towards her kitchen. "I'm getting you some water." She called over her shoulder.

He unexpectedly caught her wrist, spinning her in his direction. The intensity of his gaze left her breathless.

"I don't want water."

Her throat suddenly felt dry. Maybe she needed the water.

"I, um, I." She stammered. Good hell, she couldn't even voice a coherent thought with his hands on her and his eyes burning holes into her soul. She knew he wouldn't leave her alone for long, but it didn't mean she was ready for whatever confrontation was to come. Her voice felt raspy when she asked, "What do you want, Elliot?"

His eyes remained intense. "You know what I want." His grip on her wrist relaxed a little, and his thumb began tracing circular patterns on her wrist. "I think I know what you want too." His gaze fell to their now joined hands. "I'm just not sure how we will get there."

She took a slow breath while her thoughts raced. She wasn't sure how to get there either. There was so much between them. Too much. They had been constantly communicating, but it never felt like they were really getting to the place they both wanted to be. "Me neither," she admitted in a low voice.

He tugged her closer, and she willingly went, letting her hand slide up the muscles of his exposed forearm.

"Maybe," he began.

"Maybe," she breathed in response, her eyes lifting to his face. She was tired of overthinking. Maybe they couldn't make up for all the time they lost. Maybe they weren't ever going to completely banish the hurt. Maybe the chasm between them could never be mended. But maybe it didn't matter. Maybe there wasn't a perfect moment or a perfect time. Maybe it was time to stop holding back and let the chips fall where they may.

Maybe it was time to let go.

She tipped her head up so they were breathing the same air. His breathing felt heavy against her lips that were only a hair's breadth away.

She felt frozen. Waiting for the moment when one of them broke. The moment when one of them finally braved that first step into the unknown.

It had to be her.

Nerves swelled in her stomach. She devoured him in his apartment only an hour ago, but this felt different. What happened at his place was an inevitability. It was a branch snapping under the weight of a quarter century of restraint. It was a waterfall of want that had been dammed for far too long.

This was different.

She was choosing him, and for the first time ever, he could choose her in return.

This was a choice, not a reaction.

She felt his breath catch when she brushed her lips lightly over his. The breath he'd been holding came out in a rushed exhale when she pressed her lips more firmly over his.

At first, things were slow and leisurely, just lips and all the time in the world, but a low smoldering fire in her belly began to climb higher, and she felt their kisses become a little less measured and much more frantic.

With his hands low on her back, he stepped her closer to the nearest wall. She almost laughed aloud. For the second time in one evening, Elliot Stabler was about to have her pinned against a wall.

Her back met with the wall firmly, and she took the opportunity to sweep her tongue over his bottom lip. A deep rumble groan grew from his chest when she pulled his bottom lip into her mouth, sucking it gently.

When she finally released his lip, they were both breathing heavily. His eyes were still closed when he rested his forehead against hers. One of his large hands remained on her hip, but the other was pressed into the wall to stabilize them both.

"Olivia," he breathed. He kissed her lips gently before leaving, skirting kisses along her jawline. Her heart pounded mercilessly when his lips moved further down her neck.

No longer able to stay a passive participant, she pulled his shirt up enough to slip her slim fingers beneath the hem. For a moment she let her fingers lightly trace over the skin on his lower abdomen. Unable to stop herself, she pressed her hands more firmly into his abs.

He groaned, and his lips separated from her neck with a light pop. "Liv." He groaned out her name as she lightly raked her nails down his abs, stopping just shy of the top of his jeans. "Liv, what…what are we doing? I don't want to push…"

She chuckled warmly. "Good Lord, El. I think it's pretty obvious what we are doing."

Her fingers tugged his shirt up, and he easily got the message, letting her pull his shirt over his head.

Once the shirt had been carelessly tossed aside, he took a half step backwards, allowing her eyes to take their fill of his heavily muscled core. Her mouth went dry.

He smirked—one of his infuriatingly adorable smirks—and said, "That good, huh?"

She immediately rolled her eyes and smacked his bulging pectoral muscles playfully. "Shut up."

"Or what."

Goddamn that smile. It might be the death of her.

She pushed herself away from the wall and easily moved past him. She could feel his eyes on her back as she took a few steps down the hall. Without looking behind her, she lifted her own shirt and dropped it onto the floor. "Comin'?" She asked playfully while reaching for the doorknob of her bedroom door.

Those familiar-sounding steps rushed behind her, and she swore she heard him mumble, "God, yes," as he tumbled into the room after her.

-000-

But, baby, baby, something's tellin' me this ain't over yet

No way it was our last night I kissed your lips

Make you grip the sheets with your fingertips

Something about the dim lighting of her bedroom made everything seem surreal, dreamlike. His heart raced as he followed her toward her bed. He almost bumped into her when she suddenly turned, giving him a perfect view of her breasts threatening to spill from her bra and the bronzed skin of her abdomen.

"Jesus," he muttered.

Before he could reach for her, she sat on the edge of the bed. "I don't want to talk about," she swallowed deeply, "the scars. Not tonight." Her characteristic fearlessness fled leaving her vulnerable in its wake.

He felt himself nod. "Okay." He moved closer, eventually stepping between her legs. With a minor wince, he got down on his knees before her so he was no longer towering over her. "We don't need to talk about it." He lifted her hand and began leaving a trail of kisses from her wrist and further down her arm. "Not until you're ready."

Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes, and she reached for his face, cupping his face in her hands. "What if... what if I'm never ready?"

His bright blue eyes looked up at her with all the adoration he couldn't ever keep hidden. He reached his arm up, and she helped him off the floor. She scooted further back on the bed, but he was over her in a flash, eyes still watching her with that ever-burning intensity.

Without a word, he left a trail of kisses down the plane of her upper chest until his lips grazed the scattered scars on the swell of her breast. "It doesn't matter." He deliberately kissed the faded scars on the tops of both breasts. "It won't change how I feel about you." He lifted his head so he could see her eyes. "If you ever want to talk about it, I'm here, but if that day never comes…"

She let out a little gasp when he placed a sucking kiss on a small scar at the top of her ribcage.

"That's okay too." His voice took on a pained quality. "I know I missed so much, and you don't owe me one damn explanation about what happened while I was gone." He ran his tongue down her abdomen until he kissed a particularly gruesome scar just above her navel.

He pushed himself up so his face hovered over hers. "I'm sorry."

She opened her mouth, but he cut her off. "Don't try to make me feel better. Earlier, when I said you didn't need me… I didn't mean it as an excuse. I meant that you thrived, and you didn't need me to help you achieve," his eyes glanced around the room and the pictures of Noah strewn about. "All of this. I'm sorry I left. I'm sorry I wasn't…I wasn't there to have your back. I should have been here." He shook his head. "I should have been here, but I was too much of a coward to…"

"To what," she whispered.

He watched her for a brief moment before saying the words the both of them knew were coming. "I love you. I love you now, and I loved you then, and I couldn't…" he sighed and dropped his forehead onto her shoulder. "I couldn't do it anymore. I loved you. I wanted you, and instead of manning up and dealing with everything, I ran." He lifted his head and kissed a tear that had escaped from the corner of her eye. "Not being there for you, not having your back…that's going to always be my biggest regret."

She lifted a hand to his cheek and pulled his face down, kissing him slowly, with meaning.

"I know. I... I knew then, and that's… She sighed. "That's why your leaving hurt so damn much." She kissed him again; this time, when she pulled away, he was met with a smirking smile. "Now, are we doing this or are we going to hash out all our issues shirtless?"

He dropped his head onto her shoulder with a hearty laugh. His strong arms encircled her, pulling her close and rolling her on top of him. Her hair fell around her face in loose waves. He tucked some hair behind her ear before kissing her soundly. His hands tinkered with the clasp of her bra, eventually finding success. Her bra straps slid down her arms, and she sat back into his stomach, letting the bra fall away. He felt his eyes widen, and he thought he might die right there.

He impulsively ran a finger down the center of her chest until stopping at her belly button. "Beautiful," he murmured. "So damn beautiful," he said with awe.

He ripped his eyes away from her exposed breasts and back to her face. There was one thing he wanted to make clear. "I love you," he said with fervor.

He leaned forward so their bare chests were pressed against one another. A serene smile crossed her face. "I love you too," she whispered. Her lips fell into his, and he kissed her deeply. When she came up for air, she added, "Always have." Her eyes found his once more. "And God knows, I always will."

He felt emotion building in his chest, but before he could say anything else, she began pressing fleeting kisses over his jaw. "Now… if you don't start touching me, I might actually get offended."

He laughed out loud. "Copy that, Captain."