The Absence of Olivia

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The Absence of Olivia Page 5

by Anie Michaels


  When I finally made it to bed, I couldn’t sleep. I lay there all night wondering what in the hell I was going to do, how I was going to proceed. I could pretend as if nothing had happened, but it had. I could pretend as though it meant nothing to me, but it meant everything. I could laugh about it, pretend like it was amusing, when actually it was devastating. The only thing clear after a night of tossing and turning was I would be doing a lot of pretending.

  However, that wasn’t something new for me.

  Chapter Five

  The Next Day - College

  “Why are you moving so quickly?” Liv groaned from her bed, the first intelligible words I’d heard from her all morning. Up until then, all I’d heard were groans and possible swear words. In the middle of the night, I’d woken her up enough to give her the water and the pain pills, but she seemed to be coming around now.

  “I’m meeting Elliot for breakfast in twenty minutes.”

  “What time is it?” She was speaking, but she wasn’t moving.

  “Nearly ten.”

  Another loud groan came from her bed.

  “Just go back to sleep. I’ll be back later.” I sat down on my bed, pulling on my ankle boots.

  “How’d I get back here anyway?”

  “Devon carried you,” I said, my snarky tone implying I didn’t approve of the method, still remembering the way his biceps were twitching by the time we got to our dorm. The way his arms were wrapped around her.

  “He carried me?”

  “Yeah, you were passed out.” I stood up and walked to the large mirror, which hung on the inside of my armoire. It wasn’t full-length, but it did a good enough job. I turned from one side to another, trying to inspect my outfit from all possible angles. I was wearing a cotton skirt that flowed down to my knees with a tank top. I pulled on my worn-soft jean jacket, knowing it wouldn’t be too warm outside yet. I flipped my blonde hair from the collar as I turned back to Liv. “Go back to sleep, Liv. You’re still drunk.”

  “You’re probably right,” she said from under her covers.

  “I’ll be back eventually. Then we seriously need to pack if we’re going to be ready to leave tomorrow morning.” Her groan was all the response I needed. I grabbed my purse and headed down the stairs to wait for Elliot. I’d been sitting on the bench in front of my dorm for what seemed like forever, about ready to call it quits and go back upstairs, when a big red pickup truck parked in front of the lawn. I watched as the window rolled down, Elliot’s face appearing from inside the cab, smile shining brightly.

  I couldn’t help the way my lips tipped up at his smile, and I didn’t try to stop it. It felt natural. As I walked toward his truck, I saw him come around the bed, looking just as cute as I remembered him.

  “Hey,” he said easily as he opened the passenger door for me. I looked up hesitantly, and then looked down at my skirt.

  “I didn’t dress for mountain climbing.” His truck was big.

  “Just step on the rail there and you should be fine.”

  “Oh,” I said, just noticing the little step seemingly made for situations just like the one I was in. “How convenient.”

  “If you’re gonna drive a truck this big, gotta make it skirt friendly,” he said with a wink. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes, laughing all the while. He shut my door then climbed up into the driver’s seat, started the truck, and pulled out onto the street.

  “How’s your roommate this morning?” he asked once we’d made it back onto the main road.

  “She’s as well as can be expected. Devon carried her the entire way home last night and she didn’t wake up once.”

  “That’s rough. Should we bring her back some greasy food?” He turned to look at me, waiting for my response, his expression soft and expectant. I felt the tiniest flutter of wings in my belly at his thoughtful gesture.

  “I’m sure she’d be really grateful,” I managed.

  We made small talk about classes and finals until he pulled into the parking lot of what looked like it might have been an abandoned building.

  “It doesn’t look like much, but this place has the best food in town. No one talks about it though because we don’t want the secret to get out.” His words were tumbling out of his mouth, right past the beautiful smile he’d been wearing since he picked me up and my cheeks heated with a blush as I thought about how good looking he was. He wasn’t rugged and he wasn’t tall or dark, but he was the typical All American, Boy Next Door, cute. I watched as he walked around the front of the truck, opened my door, then gasped a little as his hands grasped my waist, gently lifting me from the truck and depositing me safely on the ground.

  “Thank you,” I managed to whisper.

  “I’ll help you out of my truck any day, Evelyn.” I thought I’d reached the pinnacle of my blushing’s capabilities, but when his hand reached down and wrapped around mine, my face heated even more. Something about the way he was upfront with his feelings for me was undeniably attractive. He was so easy with me, so open. It was just as refreshing as it was unusual. I was used to guys playing cool and not paying me too much attention, which was frustrating. Elliot seemed to be transparent, which I couldn’t deny was attractive.

  We entered the restaurant and I was pleasantly surprised to find the outside did not reflect the inside. The interior was straight-up country diner, with red checkered tablecloths and everything. Cute little salt and pepper shakers adorned each table, along with red and yellow squeezy bottles for ketchup and mustard. It was clean, adorable, and the waitress who approached us was all smiles.

  “Elliot, didn’t think you’d be around after classes let out.” She was a round woman in her mid-forties, wearing a waitress uniform you’d imagine someone in a movie wearing: blue dress, white ruffled apron, and a pad of paper and pen sticking out of its pocket.

  “Well, I promised Evelyn here a breakfast date before we both left town.”

  The waitress, whose nametag read Marianne, turned her attention to me and said, “Lucky girl,” with what sounded like affection. She grabbed two menus and we followed her to a booth where Elliot and I sat across from each other. After we’d ordered our drinks and Marianne left us, I attempted to make small talk.

  “So, why does the waitress know your name?”

  He smiled and then responded. “The frat house can be a hard place to study. It gets loud and the guys aren’t always willing to quiet down so I can cram for a test.” He shrugged. “It’s just part of frat life. Anyway, this place is open twenty-four hours and they’re really cool about letting me study here, you know, as long as I order some food and stuff.”

  “So, you’re here a lot.”

  “You could say that. Plus, you can’t get biscuits and gravy like theirs anywhere else. In fact, I’m gonna miss this place over the summer.” He smiled again, and then laughed softly. “I’m not sure who I’m kidding; I’ll probably drive down once or twice just for the food.”

  “How far away do you live?” I asked, curious about him.

  “I’m about two hours north of here, in Bakersfield. What about you? Where are you headed tomorrow?”

  “Liv and I are from Portsmouth, about three hours east.”

  “Well, that’s good news.”

  “What is?” I asked, confused.

  “That you’re not getting on a plane or going somewhere really far away.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, typing furiously with this thumbs. Finally, he held his phone up, screen pointing at me, and I saw what looked to be a page from Google Maps. “See, look. If I take the bypass it’s only a three hour and forty-five minute drive to your town.”

  My cheeks blushed at the thought of Elliot driving nearly four hours to see me. No one had ever made such an effort. “Don’t you have some girl back home waiting for you?” I couldn’t imagine someone as charming and courteous as Elliot without a band of girls vying for his attention. He gave a small cough at my question; apparently, I’d struck a nerve.

  �
��No one’s waiting for me, no. My high school girl friend will probably be home for summer, but we haven’t been together in over two years. She’s moved on, so have I. But, we have the same friends, so I’m sure I’ll be seeing her.”

  “Elliot, I was kidding. You don’t owe me any explanations.”

  At my words he reached across the table and took my hand in his, gently squeezing it. “I might not owe you an explanation, but I want to give it to you anyway.” Then he shrugged and laced his fingers with mine. “Last night wasn’t just some hook up. I’ve wanted to ask you out for weeks. I totally understand if you want to just say goodbye today, and maybe see each other in the fall, but I’m kind of hoping I can see you this summer.”

  I swallowed thickly, a little caught off guard by his declaration. “I’d like that.”

  A gorgeous smile spread slowly across his face, his brilliantly white teeth showing, eyes sparkling. “Great,” he said confidently. I couldn’t help but smile back at him, it was impossible to resist.

  The rest of our breakfast date was effortless and comfortable. We ate, laughed, shared about our families, and talked about plans for the summer. He was genuinely interested in whatever it was I had to say. He listened with rapt attention, laughing when appropriate, smiling, and nodding. Listening. Aside from Liv, I’d never felt so comfortable talking to someone.

  We sat at our table for hours, Marianne never making us feel like we had to leave, even though we took up a table for the entire lunch rush. Elliot never stopped touching me. When we ate, his foot pressed up against mine under the table. When we talked, his hand was holding mine, his thumb making soft circles on the inside of my wrist. His touch slowly built a fire inside of me, and by the time we decided to leave the diner, I could hardly wait to be alone with him in the privacy of the cab of his truck.

  We took a to-go order for Liv, which I still thought was incredibly sweet of him, and he helped me into the passenger side of his truck. I placed Liv’s food on the bench seat nearest my door, and scooted more toward the middle. I watched as Elliot opened his door, reaching in, grasping the steering wheel, the muscles in his forearm rippling. Then, suddenly, he was next to me. Strong biceps pressed into my shoulder. The hand that had just been gripping the wheel landed softly on my leg just above my knee.

  My eyes darted to where his hand made contact, and then slowly made their way to meet his gaze.

  “Thank you for breakfast,” I said, as my sight wandered to his lips.

  “It was more like brunch,” he said, his lips lifting into another beautiful smile.

  “Thank you for brunch,” I acquiesced. He nodded slightly, and then I saw his free hand rise. He pushed some wayward hair behind my ear, and then his large hand slid around to the back of my neck, gripping me there softly, but with just enough force to take my breath away completely.

  “I’m going to kiss you now.” His voice was low, his smile had disappeared, and in its place was a serious expression, one of longing.

  “Okay,” was all I could manage before his impossibly soft lips touched mine.

  I breathed in his kiss, taking everything from him in that moment. My hands pressed against his chest, slowly folding my fingers around the soft cotton of his shirt, pulling myself as close to him as I could. The night before, our kisses had been passionate and new, exciting and hurried. But in that moment, with hours of conversation and laughter between us, we were connecting on another level.

  His hand slid slowly up from my knee, smoothing over the bare skin beneath my skirt, but only came to grip the fleshiest part of my thigh, inches below the elastic of my panties. I didn’t want to go any further, sitting in a restaurant parking lot at a diner, but a large part of me wanted to know what it would feel like to have his hands all over me, his fingers inside of me. A flash of heat climbed through me at the thought of him being inside of me at all, and I pulled him closer.

  When we finally pulled away from each other, we were both panting. He rested his forehead against mine and his hand came back up to frame my face.

  “I foresee myself coming to visit you a lot this summer.”

  I smiled, and then pressed a small kiss against his lips. “I foresee myself enjoying that a lot.”

  “I hate to even tear myself away from you, but I think we should get going. Another kiss like that, and I’ll lose my mind.”

  Laughing, I disentangled myself from him, sliding carefully toward the center of the bench, but before I got too far, his hand was back on my leg. This time, though, his fingers were higher up and just barely under the hem of my skirt. Just the sight sent shivers up my spine and goose bumps along my thigh. Whether or not he noticed, I’d never know, but his thumb grazed the sensitive skin all the way back to my dorm.

  When he pulled up to my dorm, a wave of sadness washed over me. Why had he waited so long to make his move? Now it was summer and we were both headed in different directions. The excitement of new romance was being squashed by our separation.

  “Elliot, why did you wait so long to ask me out? I mean,” I said nervously, tucking my hair behind my ear. “I’m glad you did, but, now it’ll be really hard to see each other. We could have been doing this for weeks by now.”

  He turned the ignition off and turned to face me on the bench seat. “Can I ask you a question before I answer you?”

  I shrugged. “Sure.”

  “What’s your history with Devon?”

  His question caught me off guard and my head pulled back as my face contorted into a look of confusion. “What?”

  “Don’t get upset. It doesn’t matter to me, I’m just curious.”

  “I don’t have a history with Devon. He’s my best friend’s boyfriend.”

  His eyes were darting back and forth between mine as he was silent for a few moments. Then his thumb and forefinger came up to touch my chin, looking directly into my eyes, leaving me even more confused than before. When his hand fell away, his forefinger trailed down the front of my throat and my body immediately reacted, my breath shuddering. “Sometimes,” he started to say, his voice low, and then it looked like he changed his mind about his words. “Before, when you’d come around with Liv, it was obvious Devon and Liv were together, or, that he was interested in her.”

  “Yeah?” I urged him to continue.

  “But it also kind of seemed like you were into Devon.”

  “Oh,” was my response. Without thinking about it, I pulled back, putting a little distance between us.

  “If there’s nothing there, I totally believe you. But, before last night, I was never sure and I didn’t want to pursue you if it was going to be a waste of time.”

  My mind was racing, thoughts pinging back and forth inside my head, making me feel mentally dizzy. It never occurred to me that strangers would think that about me, that people who just observed me would think I was interested in Devon. When we’d first met, I’d been insanely attracted to him, hoped with almost embarrassingly frequency that we’d run into each other on campus and we’d laugh about our first meeting, then we’d fall in love and have a dream life together. The night I realized Liv was dating the guy who I’d met and been harboring a teenage crush on, for just a small moment, I was devastatingly jealous.

  But to think other people could see the feelings I thought I was hiding so well..., well, that made me nervous. I was sure the silly feelings I thought I had for him had been buried a while ago. Once he and Liv were a real thing, I had tried to turn it all off. I tried to ignore the way my eyes always found his form at a crowded party, ignored the way his hand always pressed into the small of my back when I went through a door ahead of him, and the way my heart reacted to his hand there. I was suddenly extremely nervous that not only Devon had noticed my not-so-well-hidden feelings, but Liv might have as well.

  “Elliot, listen, I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression. There’s nothing going on between Devon and me. There never was.”

  He was quiet for a moment. “I’m glad for that, honestl
y, because I’d like to see what could develop between us. But, I just wanted to make sure you weren’t hung up on someone else before I got invested.”

  I shook my head, even though there was a tiny voice inside my head questioning the very idea. Was I hung up on Devon? I didn’t think so. Sure, he was cute and sweet. And he treated Liv so well. But it wasn’t anything more than a stupid crush. That was it. Not serious enough to turn Elliot away. “I’m not hung up on Devon,” I stated, with just the tiniest roll of my stomach that felt like betrayal.

  “Good,” he said as he smiled and leaned in toward me. “Because I’m pretty sure I’m gonna like getting hung up on you.” Then his lips were on mine again, sweet and slow, making my heart rate accelerate and my fingers ache to run through his hair.

  “I’d better go,” I said on an exhale as I pulled away minutes later. I watched his tongue dart out and lick his lips, as if he were trying to taste every last drop of me, and my breath caught in my throat.

  “Okay,” he said, sounding like he regretted it. “But let me see your phone first.” I smiled and handed him my cell, watching as he programmed his number in, and then called his own phone. “Expect to be hearing from me. Soon.” He said it with a grin as he handed my phone back to me.

  “Great.”

  “Yeah. Great.” He smirked then leaned in again, pressing a fast kiss against my lips, and then pulled away with a wink. I took Liv’s food and hopped down from the truck, giving Elliot my best smile as I shut the door. I turned, walking back to my dorm, hoping Liv hadn’t died of starvation, thinking about how excited I was to spend the summer getting to know Elliot.

  Chapter Six

  Present Day

  “Ruby, Jax, come on, time to wake up.”

  It had taken every ounce of strength I had to muster up the courage to come back to Devon’s house the next morning. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the image of Devon’s hand sliding over my belly, felt his lips on me, felt my body react to him in both lust and shock. I hated that my body liked his hands on me, wanted to feel them again, had secretly been longing for them for years. But I felt anger and guilt most, anger toward myself for feeling these things for my dead best friend’s husband.

 

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