by Nicky Shanks
He sits down at the kitchen table and laughs. “You obviously want me here or else you would be thinking about someone else.”
I growl deep in the back of my throat. “I thought it was someone else.”
“Yeah? The guy you’ve lucked into sleeping next to? Jules, come on. He’s way out of your league.” He chuckles.
My face heats. “He’s better than you.”
Brandon acts scared and waves his hands in the air. “Even if that were true, I was even out of your league. I only moved in with you because we’d been together so long. I felt sorry for you.”
Before I can pounce on him and tear his eyeballs out, he’s gone and I’m alone with cookies that need to be taken out of the oven before they burn. I set the tray on the cooling rack next to me and sigh. Besides the gourmet kitchen, I can see an overbearing dining room doorway a few feet from me. The longest dark oak table sits in the middle of the room with eight matching chairs around it. A glass chandelier reigns over the table, its twinkling lights illuminating everything below it.
I sigh. I can’t stop thinking about Brandon now. His wavy, chestnut hair was a little too long when I left him. I think about his eyes: the darkness in them is what makes them that shade of brown. He isn’t much shorter than Oliver, but he definitely lacks the muscle definition. Tall and thin with a permanent scowl. Nothing compared to the man lying next to me—hard bodied with a strong jawline.
“This is what you want but can’t have,” Brandon says.
“You again,” I mutter. “Can’t I just flick my fingers and wish you away?”
He laughs. “I’m not a genie, Jules. I’m just in your mind.”
I’m starting to actually hate him now.
“Well, then, just go away.” I blow air at him like that’d be strong enough to make him float away. “I don’t care what my mind or my heart say. I don’t want you here, so go. Away.”
Brandon holds up his hands in surrender.
“Whatever you say.”
I nod. “Yeah, whatever I say. Leave.”
And he’s gone again.
Every room I go in is magical in its own special way; I didn’t want to leave the huge bathroom with the Jacuzzi tub and vaulted ceilings with skylights, but the last door I reach calls to me. It looks so familiar.
It’s the same door that’s on the bedroom I’m sleeping in.
Same fireplace.
Same bed.
Empty bed.
“There you are,” he says as he comes out of the bathroom. “I was starting to worry that you lost your way back to me.”
Oliver.
I gulp and look nervously behind me at the closed bedroom door, as if someone would come rushing in. “Brandon is here.”
He doesn’t look angry. “I know. I can keep you safe.” He notices my face fall a little and walks over to me, hooking his index finger underneath my chin and pulling my face up toward his. “Don’t worry; he can’t do anything to us in here. This is our room.” Oliver lowers his thick, warm lips to mine and kisses me with such passion, I feel the air being sucked out of the room. I gasp when he lets go of me, fall into his hard chest, and smile.
“Oliver,” I say his name gently, careful not to burst the dream bubble, “why are you here?”
His face falls. “I thought you wanted me here.”
“I do!” I squeak, panicking. “I really do. I guess I’m just a little confused.”
His long, lean body inches closer to mine. “Don’t think—just do.” I leap at him and Oliver’s tight arms flex around me; I’m eager and filled with all of the bottled-up longing that I’ve been saving just for him. In the real world, it’s been six months or so since I’ve even seen a man naked, and I desperately want Oliver to be the first man to ravage me something fierce.
But as he presses my body into his, it’s more gentle and romantic than I imagined it would be. He laughs into our kiss and picks me up, wrapping my legs around him and squeezing my ass as he walks toward the bed. “You are crazy beautiful, you know that, right?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer as he lays me on the bed and examines my body before taking off his V-neck t-shirt.
I bite my bottom lip and smile. “I didn’t know, but thanks for telling me.”
His eyes lock on my lips. “Your smile fills my head with sunshine—how do you do that?”
My throat is so dry I have to swallow a few times before I can speak. “I-I’m not sure…”
Oliver licks his lips and lowers himself down next to me. His fingers play with the hem of my shirt. “It’s almost morning.” He yawns and stretches against me.
I yawn too. “I got no sleep.”
He smiles and kisses my forehead. “Baby, stay with me and you’ll never get any sleep.”
Even in dream world, I am in way over my head.
Chapter Five
Oliver
The light of the new day blasts into the room like fireworks. It doesn’t feel like I’ve been asleep that long; my eyes are still sticky and thick with leftover bits of dreams dancing on my eyelashes. Yawning, I close my eyes again and snuggle back into the pillow, the aroma of sunflowers and strawberries filling my head. It’s so nice that it makes a wide smile spread across my face.
Oh, right.
I’m not alone.
Julie’s curvy body is tucked into mine—I can feel my hard-on poking her ass gently, but that doesn’t bother me as much as it probably should. When I open my eyes, I see a mess of honey blonde hair and I feel my hands sliding around her body without my consent or my direction. Julie’s body is real and it makes my head spin. I like that she’s softer—that I don’t feel bones when I slide my hands around her. She’s curvier than I’m used to. It’s exciting to think about her warm, thick thighs—exciting in a way I’ve never felt before. My hands finally stop a few inches short of her breasts, and now she’s gonna know for sure that I’m turned on because I’m getting harder. I have to let her go before she wakes up and kills me for touching her like I am.
I slide my arms out from around her and squint, watching her bite her bottom lip and smile into her pillow.
Oh, no. I have to get out of this bed.
Don’t look at her Oliver, just get up.
I manage to leave the bed without stirring her, but I tower over her body, assessing what I’ve just woken up to. I don’t even bother to dress before I open the bedroom door and sneak into the hallway, pushing the hair from my face so I don’t miss a step down the stairs. When I walk into the kitchen, I let out a huge, relieved sigh.
I didn’t make it without anyone else seeing me, though. Casey and Nora both raise their eyebrows at me over their coffee mugs, throwing knowing stares. “Good morning, Ollie,” Casey says and snickers. “You have some serious bedhead, brother.”
I growl. “You try sleeping next to a stranger.”
Nora giggles and slaps Casey’s hand away. Their PDA makes me want to gag—I wish they’d turn that crap off. “Oh, sometimes it’s not that bad,” she says.
“Coffee. I need coffee before I listen to all of this,” I grumble and push my hair back. “Then I’m going to work out.”
Casey scoffs. “No surprise there.”
I shake my head and pour the coffee. The steam tickles my nose as I blow on it—I don’t want to burn my mouth just in case I need it later for something exciting. Not only do I need to release tension about my hate for Heather, but now I need to add my lust for Julie to the list. I feel like my brain is tugging me in sixteen different directions and the two lovebirds making out in the corner aren’t helping me think any clearer. I know I have to go back into the bedroom to get workout clothes, so my heart skips a little. I hope I can sneak a peek of her sleeping again.
I enter the room and she’s cuddled up with all of the pillows, a sweet smile on her face.
Damn.
She’s cute.
Oh, dude, come on, get your stuff and get out of here.
I strip naked and throw on different sweats, a clean t-s
hirt, and a pair of socks, but finding my sneakers is a much harder task. That requires moving a bunch of stuff next to the bed and then sifting through a suitcase with a loud-ass zipper, but I succeed and nod in victory to myself.
My weight on the bed makes her stir a little. I pick up the coffee cup from the bedside table and swallow some before she rolls toward me. I freeze, thinking I did all that quiet maneuvering for nothing. Julie looks like she’s at such peace that it makes me smile. I wonder what she’s dreaming about—
No.
No, Oliver you don’t.
“Fuck,” I hiss. The weight of keeping myself from thinking about her is finally taking its toll on my mind. “I’m a fucking mess.”
I hear her yawn behind me. “You can say that again.”
Forcing a smile on my face, I turn to face her. “Well, good morning.”
“Yeah, morning.” She stretches out and she’s still small enough to fit into my pocket. Her hips call to me as the blanket uncovers them. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip as she fights sleep and tries her best to wake up. “Is that coffee?” She bats her eyelashes.
I hand her the cup without question. “Do you need anything else?”
Oliver, you aren’t her boyfriend…
She shakes her head and smiles. Her hair is a mess too. “I’m good, thanks for asking. That’s—”
“I have to get out of here,” I blurt before she can call me “sweet” again.
“Okay, see you.” She says it with such breeze that it actually feels like it annoys her that I don’t want to stay and talk. I’m probably blowing this entire thing out of proportion—I tend to do that with things—women—I want. She snuggles back into the blanket and closes her eyes, shutting me out and forgetting all about me.
I don’t like that at all.
I leave her and lock myself inside the basement gym, where I push my body harder than I probably should, but I’m so frustrated that it feels good to have the distraction. It’s temporary, though. The weights, the treadmill, the pull-ups, and the countless other body-numbing things I could’ve done…nothing makes me forget about the confusion inside my head.
Heather.
Julie.
I hate Heather.
I do not hate Julie.
I miss Heather.
After a few more minutes of killing myself and realizing it isn’t going to help me, I give up and wipe the sweat from my eyes, looking at the clock.
Eleven o’clock.
I’ve been in here for two hours.
The mini-bar has bottled water on top, so I grab one and drink it, then open a second and down that one too. My shirt is soaking wet, so I pull it off and almost do the same with my sweats but remember there are other people in the house. I’ll just have to suffer until I reach the bedroom.
“Whoa, hey,” I hear someone say behind me as I try to sneak up the stairs. “Sweat, much?”
I turn. It’s one of the other girls.
“Staci,” she says. I guess it’s obvious I don’t remember her name.
I click my tongue. “Yeah, sorry, I was working out.”
She bats her lashes—heavy with eyeliner—at me. “I can see that.” The growl in her voice grosses me out but I do my best to hide it. Okay, down girl. I definitely don’t need any of that.
“Working off some sexual tension?” She giggles.
You can say that again, a million times over.
I fake a laugh. “Sexual tension from who, exactly?”
She throws me a weird expression and it makes me uncomfortable to be alone with her.
“Okay, well, I’m headed up to shower now,” I blandly say.
She smiles. “Do you want company?”
“No thanks.” I smile at her.
Staci giggles and kisses me on the cheek. “Rain check, sexy?” I say nothing as she climbs the rest of the stairs and disappears.
“Propositioned by Staci on the second day,” Julie’s voice, amused, says from behind me. “I’m surprised it took her so long to try and snag you. Can you pick up your jaw from the floor and move so the rest of us can go about our days?”
I look at her with annoyance. “Jealous.”
Her laugh is loud and real. “Nowhere near jealous.”
“You know,” I growl and stand my ground, not letting her pass, “you’re frustrating as hell.”
Julie nods and her hair falls in waves around her face. “Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies. Can I pass now?” I give up and move my body over and she brushes past me, making damn sure she touches my arm with hers as she passes by.
“I’m heading up to shower, okay?” I call after her.
She ignores me—she’s already in the bathroom when I make my way upstairs and into our bedroom. Once again, I call out what my plans are, but she says nothing. I wait a few minutes before the annoyance builds up so much that I bite my cheek and open the door, not caring what she’s doing or what I’m about to see.
“Oliver!” she screams my name.
I mean—Screams. My. Name.
“Get out!”
Her body is stretched out, her right leg hoisted up on the sink. A towel is wrapped around her—I assume—naked body and she has knotted her honey hair on the top of her head. White shaving cream is lathered down her leg, and if she raises it any higher, I’m going to be able to see all of—everything. I startle her so much that her hand slips with the razor and she clutches her chest, catching her breath.
I’m the one to see the blood first.
“Oh, shit.” I run over to her, grab her slippery leg, and hold it firm. The remains of the shaving cream run down my hands and my mind goes blank. “You’re bleeding.” Her whimper makes me spring into action, scooping her up and getting into the shower with her to wash off the remaining shaving cream from both of us, but I quickly realize—when the water hits her open wound and she lets out a guttural, primal scream—that it’s the wrong thing to do. “I’m sorry,” I say as I pick her back up and start to panic a little more with each passing second.
Okay, Oliver, just calm down. Look at her leg.
The gash in her leg is pretty deep.
“I am so sorry,” I say again.
Julie blows out a deep breath. “It’s okay; it isn’t your fault.”
After placing a towel over the gash and pressing down, I carry her to the bed and sit down next to her. I keep applying pressure the best I can without hurting her. “I shouldn’t have scared you—I really am sorry,” I blurt out.
“Hey…” She tilts her head so she can look into my eyes. “It’s really okay. Let’s look at it.”
I suck in air through my teeth to brace myself. “It’s bleeding pretty badly; should I take you to the hospital?”
Julie laughs and I feel a little better. “I hardly think it’s that bad.” She pulls back the towel and a green look comes across her face. “On second thought, maybe we should go just in case.”
I groan. “I really am sorry—”
“You can grovel on the way to the hospital.” She waves me off. “Can I borrow one of your shirts and a pair of boxers?”
I instantly get hard when I see her slip into my clothes, careful not to get the blood on them, but I don’t care about that. I definitely didn’t want the first time I saw Julie naked to result in a trip to the ER. My clothes are wet from getting in the shower with her, so I change quickly while she’s distracted. Before she can protest, I pick her up, grab my keys and wallet, and carry her all the way through the house and to the Jeep. No one even notices us as I put her in the passenger seat and pull out of the long, gravel drive.
“Are you okay?” I ask her.
She doesn’t look at me. “I’m fine.”
You are not fine.
“Julie, I really am sorry.”
“You say that an awful lot to me.” Her voice is thick with ice and I know it’s to freeze me out. “I think I’ll sleep in the girls’ room and let you have the bedroom…it’s your house, after all.”
&nb
sp; “No, I don’t want that,” I say, concentrating on the road the best I can.
Her sadness matches mine completely for the first time since we met. “I do.”
Oh, man. Dagger to my chest.
I’m seething now. I don’t know what else I can do to make her believe I’m a better person than this. I want her to see me how I see her so badly. “You have to believe that I didn’t mean to hurt you, right? I don’t know what it is we have between us, but the bickering and shit has to stop.”
Julie smiles when we arrive at the emergency room entrance. “You think we have something between us?”
“I don’t know, do we?” I smile at her. “I don’t want you to move rooms.”
“Then I won’t.”
She lets me help her out of the Jeep, then lets me throw one of my jackets over her as we walk through the emergency room doors. We check in and wait for what seems like forever. I offer her soda and candy as bribes, but it really seems like she’s okay when we finally get called back by a big, surly looking nurse. She moves Julie’s leg to the side and she winces in pain. Julie reaches for me and grabs my hand, squeezing tight enough where I feel a little pain. The nurse uses her forefingers to open the wound wider, making Julie bury her head into my chest and cry.
“Hey, you’re making her cry,” I snap at the nurse.
She rolls her eyes. “She needs stitches—how did this happen?”
“I cut myself shaving,” Julie sobs into my shirt. “Can you hurry?”
The nurse isn’t amused. “I’ll give you something for the pain and the doctor will come in and stitch you up. Be right back.”
I let Julie clutch onto me as long as she needs. After all, this is my fault. “Hey, Julie?” I say in a soft voice. “Do you want anything?”
Her small giggle excites me. “No, I’m still good. I’m sorry for wetting your shirt.”
My hair falls into my face as I look down at her, snuggled in my chest and—“Uh,” I mutter, slightly moving so she’d move her head, “I think I’ll go see where the doctor is.”
Before I can do anything, there’s a knock at the door and a doctor comes in, making a few corny jokes as the nurse gives us a bottle of pills for pain. Ten minutes later, we’re headed out the double doors and back to the cabin. Julie had taken one of the pills before we left and I notice her eyes starting to glass over a little, so I help her into the Jeep and shut the door behind her.
