by Nicky Shanks
Sleep wins quicker than I thought.
Now let’s just hope she lets go of me quicker than she did last time.
Chapter Twenty
Julie
As the elevator slowly goes down into the hospital lobby, I have a smile on my face. An actual, honest and real smile. He didn’t die and leave me here alone; I’m thankful for that. Oliver has become a part of me that no one would ever understand—or even compare to.
How would I be able to live without him?
I don’t have to worry about that now. Still, I almost lost him and that doesn’t feel good at all. I surely didn’t want to meet his mother the way I did; just being in the same room with her made me feel itchy and bizarre. Her intentions were crystal clear before she even opened her mouth; my parents weren’t the best, but at least they cared if I lived or died. Regardless, I never want to see her ever again.
But there she is.
In the lobby.
She’s red-faced now and her fingers are twitching as she sits in the general waiting room. I swerve around the people entering the building and think I’ve made it out without her seeing me. I glance over to where she was sitting and her gaze locks with mine. Despite her frail body, she bolts up and runs toward me. The security guard sees her, too, and he goes on full alert as she approaches me.
“You there, little girl,” she snarls. “Let me ask you a question. Who do you think you are, throwing me out of my own son’s hospital room?”
I don’t answer her, and it pisses her off more.
“Answer me, you little slut!” She seethes and looks the guard square in the eye. “Don’t worry, I ain’t touching her.” The guard looks like he lets out a deep breath, but he still keeps his eyes locked on her. “I want to see my fucking son,” she tells me.
I stare at her mangled tennis shoes and trail my gaze up her skinny, pale legs that peek out through tattered jeans, and her t-shirt that says, “Don’t hate me because I’m rich and beautiful.” I scoff when I read it and her lips curl into a snarl. She’s changed her clothes since being thrown out of Oliver’s room, and I wonder where she lives; she’d have to live close by to be able to change and get back here this quickly. The feeling of pity rises in my throat, but my anger toward her pushes it way back down where it came from.
“What the hell are you looking at?” Her teeth snap together. “Oh, I see what this is. You think you’re better than me, don’t you? I know all about the trailer trash my son likes to sleep with. I’m sure you’re no different than the last little bitch he thought he loved.”
My mouth opens, but I’m not even sure what I’m going to say to her at first. “Well, your wish is my command. He’s awake and he’s alive, not that you care about either. You can go up and see him while I make arrangements for him to come home.” My voice is cold and I try to move past, but she grabs my arm with her thin, bony fingers.
“I know my son. He will throw you away like the trash you are.”
I let a snicker sneak past my lips. “You don’t even know me. Oh, but I know you. I know all about you and what you were like even before Oliver was born. Colin has been filling me in on some details that even your own son doesn’t know.”
“You don’t know me, either.” I hear her teeth grinding and it sounds like metal on metal. “You don’t know what I’m capable of, and I would watch your mouth before something you say gets you in some big trouble, little girl. I wouldn’t want something happening to that pretty little face of yours.” I feel a heavy chill in my spine as she lets go of me. “And Colin Jackson is dead, so I guess that makes you a gold digger and a liar.” She snarls as she races toward the elevator. She flips her middle finger at the guard, who looks at me for silent confirmation that she’s okay to go up.
“Can you have someone follow her up?” I ask him when I pass his station. He nods and gets onto his walkie-talkie, watching me as I leave through the hospital doors.
I find a taxi and tell the driver the address of Oliver’s apartment. The drive is somber as the aftermath of the recent rains glistens on every surface of the city. People rush through the streets to get on with their lives, but not me. I’m gliding past those frantic few because I need the mental break.
I need a release.
I try not to think about anything until I stand in front of Oliver’s door. It feels weird to be here without him, but I find solace in the fact that he’s alive and awake now. I wonder if I should call Randy and tell him that I’m okay. That’s more than I would do for my parents—those people are the root of everything for me. The way they treated me when I was a child was always more than anyone could bear to hear, so I stopped talking about it. I thought about telling Oliver loads of times, but I didn’t want to upset him any more than he already was about Brandon.
My heart sinks.
Brandon.
The man twisted from innocence to downright malice. Soon every sentence he said to me was sour, and I just let him do it to me for years and years. I let him take possession of me and own every fiber of my being. My parents taught me that I wasn’t worthy of being loved as anything other than an object, and Brandon verified every dark thought they’d pushed into my head.
Luckily, I don’t care enough about him to keep wondering.
Then, there’s Oliver: my knight in a Jeep.
The way he moves with me…Each step I take, I find myself wondering what he would think or how he’ll react. Not out of fear, but out of respect. I respect him more than I respect anyone I’ve ever met.
The apartment is fairly dark—Casey must’ve drawn the curtains when he left earlier. I make my way to the bathroom without turning on any lights. Everything around me makes me think of Oliver, and not just because I’m in his apartment. I wash my hands in the sink and look at his toothbrush. I think of his perfectly lined, perfectly white teeth shining at me when I’ve said something dorky that he thinks is adorable. His clothes on the bathroom floor make me think about wearing his t-shirts when I sleep at night next to him, and I can almost feel his hot breath in my hair as I look at myself in the mirror.
I need a haircut, along with many other things. Worrying for days on end doesn’t suit me well, and I’m in desperate need of a shower.
I hear footsteps in the hallway and I immediately back away from the open door. I hear someone stop at Oliver’s bedroom door, open it, and walk inside. I take my phone from my pocket and dial 9-1-1 but don’t send the call just yet. I’m thankful I didn’t strip down for my shower yet as I tiptoe around the corner and see Oliver’s door wide open, but no one is there.
I make my way to the bedroom and peek inside, and Casey is picking up things from the floor, throwing laundry into a basket and straightening up.
“Casey?”
He jumps three feet off the ground. “Julie! Holy shit.” He clutches his chest and starts to laugh uncontrollably. “You scared the shit out of me.”
Suddenly, all the emotions I’ve been harboring since I found out about Oliver’s condition come rushing out of me. I match Casey’s laughter and clutch my stomach because it’s sore from all the short breaths I’m taking to try and stop. Even when his laughter stops, mine continues louder and forced.
I am making myself believe that I’m happy.
I am happy.
Oliver is alive and that makes me happy.
“What are you doing here? Is Oliver okay?” He tries to cut through the small hiccupping giggles that I’ve been reduced to. There’s something about Casey that just feels good. It’s like the same warm aura that Oliver has, only subtler and a bit self-conscious. His chocolate-colored eyes have the same shape as Oliver’s too.
I must be exhausted.
“Oh, I came home to shower. Oliver is awake.” Our smiles broaden as we stare at each other. There’s something about him that I can’t describe and can’t figure out. He towers over me just like Oliver and Brandon, but they are on opposite ends of the figure spectrum. Oliver is broad and has biceps for days, while Brandon is
more slender and solid.
Casey is just…normal.
A normal, uncomplicated guy.
He says something to me, but I’m too busy trying to figure it out that I don’t hear him.
“Hey!” His fingers snap in front of my eyes. “Your phone is ringing!”
Without hesitation, I click the answer button on the phone and put it to my ear.
“Hello.”
Oliver’s syrupy laugh snaps my focus back where it needs to be. “Miss me yet? I miss you like fucking crazy. When are you coming back?”
I don’t meet Casey’s eyes, but I know he’s staring at me. “I just left you less than an hour ago. Of course I miss you. I’ll be back soon, okay? Casey…is here.” I say it because I feel like I’m doing something wrong.
I am doing something wrong.
I’m in my boyfriend’s apartment alone with his best friend.
My friend too.
That eases my worry a little. Casey is my friend too. We’re not doing anything wrong.
“Why is he there?” Oliver snarls. “Let me talk to him.”
“No, you need rest. He’s here helping me with something for you. Don’t worry.”
Casey’s gaze meets mine; he nods because he knows what I tell Oliver isn’t a lie…but it’s not the whole truth, either. I think Casey has feelings for me and I don’t know where I went wrong to make him feel that way. Then again, I don’t even know what I did to make Oliver fall in love with me.
He sighs. “Fine.”
“I’ll be back soon, I promise. Is there anything you need?”
“Yeah, you. I fought like hell to come back to you…I don’t want you away long.”
I blush because Casey is watching me. Maybe it’s a better idea to remove myself from the room and have this private conversation. He doesn’t stop me or follow me, which is a relief. “I promise I will be there.”
“Casey needs to leave.” He yawns loudly. “I don’t want him there alone with you.”
“Don’t you trust me?” I whisper. “I think you just need sleep.”
“I had sleep when I was dying, remember?”
The fact that he keeps throwing that in my face doesn’t appeal to me. I don’t want to keep being reminded of the horrible accident that almost destroyed everything around me. Yet, he can’t stop talking about it like it’s not even real.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” he murmurs. I smile because he can read my thoughts even from miles away.
“I’ll be back by nightfall, okay?” I clear my throat and speak a little too loudly, hoping that Casey will hear this part. “I’ll tell Casey what you said.”
He doesn’t question my voice. “Thank you. I love you, Julie.”
“I love you too.”
Now that Casey has heard his name, he comes up behind me in the hallway. He’s so close to me that I can smell the whiskey on his breath; it circles the air around me. I make sure to hang up the phone before turning around. He’s frowning. “He wants me to leave, doesn’t he? He doesn’t trust me here alone with you.”
I cross my arms. “He trusts me.”
“Julie, I think we need to talk.” His sandy blond hair tickles his forehead. “There’s something I think you should know.”
I follow him into the living room and sit next to him on the deep mahogany leather sofa, ready to hear whatever he has to say to me. The way he searches for words in his mind is like watching a ping-pong game; his eyes dart right and left as he fights with his heart.
“I don’t think it’s a secret that I have some sort of feelings for you—”
“Wait, what?” I hold up my hands. “This is what you wanted to talk about?”
He doesn’t have any remorse for how insensitive this is. Regardless of what his feelings are…this isn’t the time or the place. Actually, there is no time and place because I don’t have feelings for him like I do for Oliver.
“Julie, please. Can you just listen to me?”
I shake my head so hard that I instantly get a headache. “I can’t believe this. You’re really doing this right now?” The steam from my rising anger radiates from my skin, reaching out to grab him and give him a good shake. “Oliver nearly died a few days ago and you do this? I can’t believe that everyone around him is such an asshole.”
“I’m not trying to be an asshole—”
I snort loudly. “That doesn’t mean you’re not being one. I can’t believe this!” I stand up and cross my arms over my chest. “What’s your problem? I’ve been nice to you—even trying to convince Oliver to forgive you for something as horrible as sleeping with his girlfriend—and I even told you I consider you one of my best friends. There’s a key word in there, Casey. I’ll give you a hint. It’s the word friend.” I know I’m being mean, but I feel justified.
Casey looks sick. “Don’t do that. Don’t act like there isn’t something here.”
My eyes burn into his on purpose. “Look, you listen to me right now: Whatever you think you’re feeling for me, you aren’t. It has to be some kind of remorse thing, because of the accident. Maybe you feel like you have to do something or take care of me because Oliver can’t…I don’t know. I just know that whatever you think you’re feeling isn’t real.”
I’ve hurt him, but I hardly care. I thought we were friends, not—whatever else he has in mind. I don’t fear Casey, but I know that it’s time for him to leave.
“I think you need to really go.”
His gaze finds his lap, the same way Oliver’s does when he knows he’s defeated. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I’ll go.” He stands up and smooths out his jeans before walking slowly toward the front door. “I just wanted to talk, Julie. I don’t want to feel things for you—did you think about that? I don’t know what my problem is.”
The regret in his voice captures me. I close my eyes and sigh, sitting back down on the sofa. “Casey, wait. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have freaked out on you. That’s so unlike me, and I’m really sorry. I know you’re just trying to be truthful with me.”
He’s back on the sofa next to me before I can open my eyes again.
“I love Oliver.” I take a deep breath. “And this is too much drama, once again. You and Nora just broke up. You’re not in a good place to be making decisions like this.”
He nods. “I think I’m just jealous of what you and Oliver have. Plus, you’re easy to talk to and be with…I don’t feel like I’m overcompensating to be something someone wants me to be.”
I think about holding his hand to comfort him, but I don’t want him to read too much into it. “Casey, you’ll have that someday. You just told me you met someone…Lucy, right? Maybe she’s the one you can have that with. Whatever Oliver and I have…it’s even still new to us. I don’t know why we fit so well together—we just do. I just know that I’ll always be able to depend on him, and that makes everything else just fall into place.”
He points at me and smiles. “See, I want that.”
“Well, I can’t give that to you.”
“I know that.” His jaw clenches tightly. “I’m not in love with you or anything. I just like being around you. At least, I’m pretty sure about that.”
I think of something to ease the tension. “Maybe you can make life rules for yourself like Oliver has…maybe that will shake things up a bit for you.”
He scoffs. “What rules? He never told me about any rules.”
My eyebrows rise. “He didn’t? That’s interesting. He’s pretty vocal about them to me.”
“What are they?”
I shrug my shoulders. “You’ll have to make some for yourself…it’s your life.”
He smiles at me, but I know this isn’t over.
I know I haven’t made him feel better or any differently.
This is going to cause a problem if I can’t be any clearer than I just was.
Oliver is going to kill him.
Chapter Twenty-One
Oliver
; It’s dark again.
No, no, no!
Wait, I’m just asleep.
Okay…I’m okay.
I see Julie humming to herself and wearing the most hideous Christmas apron known to man. It doesn’t even matter—she’s so damn intoxicating and sexy that it kills me every time I lay eyes on her.
Okay, poor choice of words right now.
No…she literally kills me.
I smell bacon and it makes my mouth water. The sizzle of the pan whispers in my ears as I reach her and pull her body against me. I tighten my arms around her as much as I possibly can without forcing the air from her lungs. She eases into me, the backs of her thighs touching mine.
“I knew as soon as I started the bacon that you’d wake up, sleepyhead.” She giggles and takes the bacon from the pan, putting it on a serving tray before facing me.
Whoa.
The sunlight from the open windows behind her glows around her face and I have to remind myself that I’m not in heaven and she’s not an actual angel. She thrusts a coffee mug at me and fills it as our eyes meet—I want her so fucking bad even in my dreams.
“Are you hungry?” She winks and bites her bottom lip.
How can I answer you, Julie?
I am hungry for you.
So, so hungry that it never goes away.
I cough the perverted comment back down my throat before my lips unlock and I take her right here in the kitchen. I’m pretty sure she knows me well enough by now to feel my desire for her. I don’t care where we are—I want her.
“I could eat.” I give her a small smile and she hands me a plate of bacon, eggs, and chocolate chip pancakes, gesturing me toward the dinner table.
I smile, and she knows.
She knows that chocolate chips are our thing.
She knows that I will give her everything she ever wants or needs.
I take her hand and kiss her fingers, making sure I soak in every ounce of happiness that she gives me. I’ve never felt this strongly for anyone before and at first, I didn’t like it.
