Morning.
I knew I liked the mornings for a reason.
This was the beginning of a brand new day for her, but for me, this was the beginning of our lives together. She just didn’t know it yet.
“Hi,” she said, and the one syllable engulfed me entirely. I swam in it. I drowned in it. I wanted to say something more, but my heart was still recovering. Though, I doubted it would ever recover. Nothing about me would ever be the same after her.
I was certain of it.
We stood staring at each other, and I was not sure how long it had been. I took all of her in. Her eyes, though we were five feet away, were golden brown. Yesterday, they had been dark brown. Today, they were like coffee with two—no, three—tablespoons of creamer. Did she like coffee? She was American, so of course she did.
God bless America.
Her hair was wavy, but straight at the ends. Her hair was brown but lighter near the ends. It was like God couldn’t decide. I didn’t blame him for it. Despite his indecisiveness, she was a masterpiece.
But it was not the almond shape of her eyes, or the style of her hair, or even the way her lips moved when she uttered the simplest word causing my heart to stop. No, it was how I was finally home. It was not love at first sight, Mr. Mann. She had always been a part of me. My soul already knew hers, and it was now, in this fucking moment, when we were finally reunited. And there she stood, the girl I belonged to. I was no longer homesick. I was complete.
She turned away, and my heart suddenly crippled. It crippled because her eyes weren’t on me. I needed her to see me. I didn’t exist without her eyes on me.
I took steps toward her, and I never wanted to take another step unless it was in her direction. We were so close; I was careful not to touch her. God, did I want to touch her. I leaned over to grab a towel, making sure to keep a distance, but the distance was the last thing we needed. My skin was inches from hers, yet the beauty radiating from her soul penetrated everything. Me. My body. My heart. Everything. Her warmth was ecstasy, and I wanted to fall asleep in it every damn night.
Switching the water on in the stall next to hers, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I couldn’t scare her away. I walked up to the sink beside hers and turned it on. I could have given her space and chosen the next sink over, but my body wouldn’t allow me. My eyes found hers in the mirror. She was my reflection. She was my other half. She was everything I wasn’t. She completed me. She was home.
Words came out of my mouth, and I was certain my voice shook, but I had to hear her again. I had to keep talking to her because if I didn’t, I might’ve exploded. “Mia, right?” The name sounded so amazing coming from my lips. Poetry. When I said “Mia,” I instantly became a poet. I never wanted to speak another name again. Nothing else would feel right coming from my lips. She looked into my eyes in the mirror, and though I wanted to keep them on me, her presence pulled my body in.
“Yeah, that’s right,” she said, but an ache crept behind each word.
Turning to face her, I leaned into the sink because if I didn’t, I would fall. She looked into my eyes. She looked deep into them, and I looked deep into hers. We saw each other. There was so much her eyes said, I couldn’t keep up. She was scared. She was screaming. She wanted me. No. She needed me. I needed her more. She was trapped. I hear you, Mia. I’m right here. I wanted to comfort her. I wanted to hold her, but I couldn’t bloody move.
What happened to you, love?
What was happening to me?
I extended my hand because that was what people did when they met, but I had a need to touch her, to soothe her, and there was a chance she would find comfort in that. “I’m Ollie,” I said, but I wanted say so much more. Usually, I had no filter, but with Mia, I had no words. I wanted to tell her everything. I wanted her to tell me everything.
Fucking gobsmacked.
Her hand connected with mine, and I didn’t shake like I usually would; I only held on. I held on to this feeling possessing me. The warmth. Our completeness. My breathing calmed, but my heart pulsated like a drum. Did she see what she was doing to me? Her little hand fit perfectly in mine, and her touch only confirmed all my beliefs. We were meant to be together.
My stupid smile returned.
Though I didn’t want to pull away, I did. Fuck. I needed to get ahold of myself. I fidgeted with my toothbrush and razor, scattering things on the sink when I finally got a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Holy hell, I looked like a bloody mess. I frantically ran my fingers through my hair, but nothing tamed. Not my hair. Not my mind. Not my heart.
“Great first impression, yeah?” I tried to laugh away the fact I was a post-drunken mess with the unruly mop on my head. My gaze slipped to her, but hers was fixated at the sink.
“How can I get one of those?” she asked, and I loved her voice. I loved her American accent. She was looking at my razor, and I was looking at her—always.
“You haven’t got a razor?”
She shook her head a smidge, and I loved the way her hair fell around her face when she did, and I forced myself not to move her hair behind her ear as I had read in so many romance novels. I had never felt the need to do that before, but it was all I wanted to do now. I wanted to feel her hair through my fingertips and tuck it behind her ear—girls in books liked that tosh. But I didn’t do it. Something told me she was not like every other girl. Instead, I slid my razor to her.
“You can have this one. It’s fresh. I haven’t used it.”
Take my razor. Take my body. Take my heart.
You can have it all.
“Thanks,” she said, and we shared a smile. Damn, her smile. With a smile like that, she should always be wearing it, and I would always be here to appreciate it.
Nodding, I turned away, so I didn’t seem like a creep. I went into the shower and undressed before stepping under the water. She did the same with only a thin wall separating us—fucking torture. She was beside me naked. Naked! I had to turn my back to the wall, like that would have made a damn difference. I had to shut my eyes, but by closing my eyes only left my mind to its imagination. Her head was probably lifted slightly under the water, soaking her hair. The water was falling down her face, her neck, collarbone, breasts, curves. Fuck. I had to focus on everything aside from Mia naked so my knob wouldn’t get hard.
I looked down.
It was too late.
Dammit, Mia.
I hurried because if I didn’t, I knew I’d punch a hole through the wall and claim her in every way imaginable. Everything inside me already couldn’t handle being only inches away. The space. The void. I wanted nothing between us—not even air.
I hurried.
After turning off the water, I quickly dried off and pulled on my pants. Then I tucked my knob into my waistband, so she wouldn’t notice. I wanted to tell her it was her fault. I wasn’t always like this. Instead, I said, “I would suggest hurrying if you want to avoid rush hour.” But all I wanted was for her to come out here and see me, to talk to me. To allow for me to exist. But, she didn’t say anything. I pulled my shirt over my head and took one last hard look in the mirror at the chap who was forever changed by her. “Only giving you a heads up,” I added. It came out more like a plea.