This has to stop right now.
My hands reach for the cold tap, and with one blast, the cold water sends me into shock, a small yelp escaping until I can no longer cope and step out.
Dressing in a simple white sundress, I have absolutely no plans today, and that, in itself, could be my worst enemy. Sitting on the sofa, sinking beneath the scattered cushions, I grab my phone and see another text message from Sebastian. He’s heading into the city with some colleagues.
I hate to think Oliver’s right.
Sebastian has never given me the impression he’s seeing anyone else, let alone paying for sex. Maybe I had heard stories of other men like his brothers, doing so.
Sebastian is different.
Yet, at the end of the day, neither one of us defined the rules of being on a break. The decision was quick, my motive to clear my head given that he was raised in the same world as me, he somewhat understood the pressure.
A break meant just that.
This was never about seeing other people.
My eyes close on their own accord—the image of Oliver leaning in so close to me replays, and the way he said ‘if you were mine,’ It’s like a broken record, a forbidden broken record because he should be the last thing on my mind.
I let out a frustrated groan.
Staring at the ceiling, it dawns on me that he’s a famous soccer player back in Australia, therefore if I want more, I could rely on my trusty friend, Google.
I can’t have typed his name any quicker. There are thousands of search results that come back with articles—photographs of him playing soccer and others with him and a woman named Bianca.
He obviously enjoyed his social life, always surrounded by friends and women. The media appeared relentless—one minute he’s crowned a hero for his gameplay and the next criticized for his mistakes.
But the images which compel me the most are of his accident.
I’m glued to the screen, examining the picture with his motorbike against the tree. In one photograph, there’ are emergency services surrounding a body on the ground. Upon reading the article, the body is him. A drunk driver ran a red light, smashing into Oliver flinging him off his bike causing almost fatal injuries.
According to one news outlet, the way he landed on the grass patch saved his life, though it ended his career.
The more I read, the more my stomach churns from all the information. I can’t help but pity him, and for everything he’s lost because of someone else’s stupidity.
I want to walk over, tell him I’m sorry for being such a self-centered bitch when it’s clear he has a heavier weight on his shoulder. But instead, I continue to lay here and stalk him.
It’s supposed to be only for an hour.
Then it turns to hours.
And before I know it, I have read almost every article about Oliver.
The same time the sun begins to set, I know, somehow, Oliver Madden has crawled under my skin.
Oliver
The ceiling fan spins in endless circles, round and round, making it impossible to fall asleep amongst my strewed thoughts.
The bedsheets begin to irritate me, crawling against my skin in this godawful summer heat. I rip them off and toss them to the floor to remove the unwanted weight almost burying me alive.
Gabriella’s face spins around in my head—her voice and words, the way her lips part when she’s lost in thought, the arch of her brow when she’s retaliating to my careless words, and the bounce in her hair when she laughs, unknowingly.
She isn’t like other women. She doesn’t throw herself on me like a pack of hungry wolves. Well, at least it wasn’t her intention on the first night. She made that very clear. And it’s possible her lack of sexual attraction to me is what’s causing my insomnia.
Face it—she’s the only woman not to want you, and it’s quietly killing you.
Feeling unwanted is unsettling. My pride is taking a major hit for the first time in my adult life.
My eyes drift into sleep. My mind endlessly dreaming about her beneath my touch, inside my bed, pinned down, legs spread, succumbing to my commands, and my tongue gliding against her supple skin, inching closer and closer to her sweet spot.
She begs for more, demanding I turn her around and take her on all fours.
Harder.
Harder.
Until she screams my name.
The sun peeks through the blinds, brutally waking me.
It was just a dream.
The ache inside my boxer shorts is all I can think about.
Ignore it. Just ignore it, or you’ll make it ten times worse.
Think about getting kicked in the nuts.
Granny undies.
Goats.
My body relaxes, the tension ridding itself as the images taunt me. Somewhere in this house, Pixy is on alert, waiting for me to slip up. I’ll fall for his so-called charm, lean in, and tell him he’s a good goat until he lashes out marking his territory.
I rub my face vigorously, wondering what the hell I should do until it dawns on me—I need an excuse to see her, and going for a run will be the perfect excuse. She happily obliged yesterday, so why will today be any different?
I quickly put on my running gear, head toward the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face.
Inside the kitchen, Chance is already up concocting his damn raw egg shake.
“Wanna go for a run, mate?”
“Um…” I scratch the back of my neck. “Yeah, but I kinda have plans.”
Chance grins, swallowing the godawful drink he has made in that blender. Who knows what the guy puts in it. The shade of dark green is undesirable, yet he claims it gives him the stamina of a wild stallion.
Just what I need to hear while staying under his roof.
“Do plans include a certain female neighbor?”
I don’t have to say anything, Chance can read me like a book. Bro code at its finest.
“So, what happened to you and what’s her name?” he asks.
I dread saying her name. Perhaps it’s the guilt of how I left things off back home. It wasn’t my finest moment, but I was in a dark place, and no good would come of us or any woman who was around me.
“Bianca.”
“Ah, yeah, Bianca. How is she?”
“Good, I guess. I don’t know.”
“You don’t know? Don’t tell me you just left her? You guys were dating for a while. I thought you were going to marry her?”
I can feel his judgment, but if anyone can understand, it’s Chance. I recall him getting serious with a girl back home but never paid too much attention to his previous relationships.
“It was too much,” I admit, grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge, then a protein bar from the cupboard. “The media was hounding me, then targeting Ma and Pa. Then they started going after Bianca. I just thought it would be a good idea if I disappeared to give her some freedom.”
Offering a deep sigh and thoughtful expression, Chance follows through with a heavy nod. “I get it, mate. If anyone gets it, it’s me. But if you and Gabbie are starting something, you gotta fess up to the truth. Start with a clean slate. No secrets.”