Rescue Breathing (18 page)

I turn my head to see Olivia watching me.
I have access to her for the next two days. I might as well take
full advantage of it while I still have her. I dart out my tongue
to lick my bottom lip and nod for her to come over to our small
group. Her eyes light up, and without warning or discussion, she
grabs Charley's hand walks toward me.

Olivia sidles up next to me at the bar and
I reach out, wrapping my arm around her waist and pulling her in to
kiss her on the temple. It's an oddly intimate act, one usually
reserved for two people already in a relationship. I'm struck by
how natural it feels. Olivia leans into me and wraps her arm around
my waist. Olivia introduces us to her friend, Charley. Marc moves
between Travis and Charley in order to stand next to her, his lips
already whispering something in her ear.

“
I guess they met while we were…umm …”—I
pause, trying to think of the right way to describe what we just
did—“getting familiar in the bathroom,” I say with a
wink.

“
So I hear,” Olivia replies instantly.
“Marc's hot!” Olivia winces as the words leave her mouth and she
turns a little red.

I choke on my beer. “Hey now, be easy on
my fragile ego,” I laugh. I order another round of drinks for
everyone and the night continues on, comfortable and
fun.

Nearly two hours later, Olivia leans over
to me and says, “I've had two or three cosmos too many. I have to
go to the bathroom—for real this time.” She gives me a knowing
smirk, and I return it.

“
Don't take too long.” I lean forward and
kiss her forehead as she slides off the stool and starts towards
the bathrooms. I watch her walk away, liking that the fantastic ass
barely peeking out from under that skirt is mine for the
moment.

A few minutes pass, and I imagine that
Olivia is still stuck in the never-ending women's bathroom line. I
pull my phone out and send her a text.

I can still smell you on my fingers.

I stare at the screen of my phone, waiting
for an answer.
Almost
instantly, my phone buzzes.

Funny you should mention that.

I can still feel you inside me.

My cock twitches.
I type back.

I can still taste you on my lips,

feel your clit on the tip of my tongue.

My breathing hitches as I remember exactly
those moments.
It's
making me crave her. My phone buzzes again and my cock goes from
twitching to growing.

You need to stop.
You'
re
making me wet

and I can't do anything about it at the
moment!

I smile at her text, and just as
I
'm about to respond, I
feel a hand on my shoulder. It's Lucy's best friend,
Christina.

“
Hey! You have everything ready for
tomorrow? I just need you to distract Lucy long enough for Travis
to be able to put the necklace on their bed for later. Then we're
home free.”

Christina and I have been helping Travis
plan a little surprise for Lucy. Their anniversary is coming up,
and he bought her a necklace she's wanted. She thinks he won't get
it because they're saving for the wedding, and he wants her to find
it when she gets home from being out with the girls. We solidify
our plans and Christina leaves, giving me a peck on the cheek.
She's a really nice girl—as is her husband. I've met him once
before, and he and Travis really get along, which is cool for them.
They're one of Travis and Lucy's “
couple friends
” they go out and do things with.

I look down at my phone.
Wow. Fifteen minutes has passed
already. No further texts from Olivia either. Shit. I didn't
respond to her earlier message. I start to type.

Did you drown in there? Don't take too
long.

I need to find out how wet you are for
myself.

I smile to myself at my clever
banter.
Well, at least
it seems clever in my slightly inebriated state. I turn and talk to
Travis about his new house. Another twenty minutes passes and still
no Olivia. I look down the bar and notice that Marc, who was
talking with Charley earlier, is now talking to some other chick,
and there's no Charley in site. I look toward the bathrooms. The
line is gone—no Olivia. What the fuck. I walk back to the bar and
ask the bartender if he's seen the girl I was standing there
with.

“
Dude, she went out with that other chick
through the front door towards the cabs,” he answers.

Fuck, fuck,
fuck
. Angrily, I take out my phone again and start
typing.

You really need to stop running.

I put down my phone and order another
drink.
Know what? Fuck
her. I'm getting shitfaced with the goal of forgetting about Olivia
Burke.

“
A shot of Jameson,” I call out to the
bartender.

“
Whoa whoa whoa. Hold on there, cowboy.
You're getting a little mental on me. What's with the hard stuff
all of a sudden?” Travis asks as he comes to stand next to me at
the bar.

My phone vibrates on the bar, alerting me
to a new text. It's from Olivia.

I deserve that. I'm sorry.

She deserves to be taken over my knee is
what she deserves.
I run
my hands over my face and through my hair.

“
She frustrates the hell out of me, Travis,
and I don't even know her!” I yell, gripping my phone tightly in my
hand. “She's a fucking runner and I hate that. Why does she run?
Some asshole must have done a real number on her to be so freaked
out. We're not even dating, for fuck's sake. Why do I even fucking
care? Shit.”

“
What are you going to do about it? Are you
going to walk away and chalk it up to a fun weekend? Or are you
going to find her and sort this out? What do you want, Owen?”
Travis says, his words weighted.

What
do
I
want? Forgetting her isn't an option.

“
You good here?” I ask Travis, realizing
what I need to do.

Travis nods.

I leave $200 on the bar to cover our tab
before grabbing my coat.
“I need to see her, to talk to her. She just can leave
without saying anything to me. Not after...She just
can't.”

“
See you tomorrow?” Travis asks.

“
See you then.” I pat Travis on the back
and walk out into the Seattle night. I hail a cab to Olivia's hotel
and make my way up to room 1121 before pounding on the
door.

“
Olivia! Olivia, open the goddamn
door.
”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Olivia

We
're in the cab and Charley is pissed at me. “That was
Travis's fiancée's best friend, you idiot!”

I put my head in my hands, moaning.

“
They're planning something for Lucy
tomorrow. You dragged me out of there like a lunatic on crack! Liv,
you have to stop this shit. You have to be willing to give someone
a chance or you're going to spend the rest of your life regretting
it.”

She's exasperated with me and I totally
understand that. And what's more, she's right. I can't keep
running. And now, the one thing I've enjoyed in months I have
effectively pushed away. He's already ambivalent at best about
being with someone. Hot as he is, he does not need to put up with a
psychopath like me.

Charley is still going on and on about how
stupid I am when I feel my phone buzz. I pick it up.

You really need to stop running.

Fuck fuckity fuck.
I feel like a jerk.

I deserve that. I'm sorry.

It
's a weak response at best, but it's all I can figure to
say.

“
Was that him?” Charley asks, inquiring
about the text.

“
Yeah. It was. He's pissed I ran. I don't
blame him.”

She sighs. “Aww, Liv. If this guy gives
you another chance, please, please, let him have it. I've been
watching you all night. There is something there. And you need to
have some fun, even if it's just for this weekend. Your heart is
lighter. I can see it.”

I feel a tear prick my eye and I brush it
away angrily. The cab pulls up to my hotel and I lean over, giving
Charley a kiss on her cheek. “I'll talk to you tomorrow, Char. I
love you. Thank you for coming with me tonight.”

She gives me a sad smile as I climb out of
the cab. “Liv!” she calls out.

I lean into the cab and look in at her.
“Yes, Charley?”

She reaches out her hand, grasping mine.
“I love you, Liv. So much. Let him like you. Let him woo you. Let
him.”

I sigh with her, squeeze her hand, and
blow her a kiss. I tap the roof of the cab and it goes on its way.
Turning, I walk into the hotel lobby. It's late, and I'm wobbly on
my combination of super-high heels and too many cosmos. When I get
inside the hotel, I pull my heels off and pad barefoot toward the
elevator. After I get to my floor, I let myself into the room, take
a quick sip of water from the bathroom, and collapse on the
bed.

I jump out of what must have been a deep
sleep. I'm still in the clothes I went out in and the lights are
still on in the room. Something woke me.

“
Olivia! Olivia, open the goddamn
door!
”

What the hell? Is that? Owen?

I stand, uneasy on my feet from having
been so tightly curled up on the bed, and stumble toward the
door.
Without undoing
the latch, I open the door fractionally. Owen is standing there,
his shirt unbuttoned, his hair wild. He looks...fuckable. Fuckable
but angry. Really angry. I close the door to undo the latch and
open it wider.

“
What are you doing here?”

He closes his eyes and licks his lips.
It's sexy, but it looks more like he's thinking than trying to turn
me on. Like he's counting to ten. Geez, is he that mad?

“
Olivia, why did you leave the club? Were
you not having a good enough time? Was the company
boring
?” he
spits out.

Whoa. It's the middle of the night, I
think I might still be a little drunk, and I'm not sure what to do
with this.

“
I'm not understanding this running
business
, Olivia. Let me
guess
…” He smirks. “You
saw me talking to Christina at the bar, right? You thought I may
have fucked her this afternoon—or ever? Is that it?”

I avert my eyes sheepishly. I feel like an
errant child. And worse, he's hit the nail on the head.

His eyes grow wide as he takes in my
expression. “Holy shit. That was it, wasn't it? You were jealous,
so you thought you'd bolt rather than either confront me or stand
your ground. Jesus. What did your last boyfriend do to you to make
you so fucking scared?”

I don
't even realize I've fallen back against the wall as he's
been talking. I feel a tear run out of the corner of my eye, a
combination of my guilt over how I behaved, my embarrassment over
how right he is, the alcohol I've consumed, and the way he is spot
on with his assumption of what my last boyfriend did to me. His
face morphs when he notices the tear and instantaneously switches
from furious to panic to understanding.

I wipe the tear away and slowly shake my
head. “I told you. I deserve your being angry with me. Yes, I was
jealous. I know I have no right to be. Charley told me who she was,
the redhead, and it should make you feel better to know I feel like
an idiot.”

I look up at him, not knowing at all what
to say but desperately wanting him to reach out and touch me. I
shake my head again. Dropping my gaze to the floor, I let it out in
a barely audible whisper “I'
m so sorry, Owen. I don
't know what else to say.”

His shoulders slump as he watches me.
“Hey,” he says, lifting my chin with his finger and forcing me to
meet his gaze. “I'm sorry too. I didn't come here to make you cry
or to make you feel stupid. I just wanted a few answers...and
you've given me enough. I get it.”

He wipes away a stray tear from my eye
with his thumb before pulling me into him by my shoulders and
hugging me tightly. I fold right into him, fitting into him
perfectly—my head on his chest, his head comfortably propped on top
of mine.

“
You wanna make it up to me?” he
teases.

I smile and give a sniffly chuckle into
his chest. This is the problem. He's warm, and I fit like I've
always been here. It's so confusing. I've known this man for just
over forty-eight hours. How could things be this comfortable after
such a short period of time? This isn't about sex either. I mean,
the sex has been great, but I'd be completely satisfied if he just
lay down with me, fully clothed, and held me while I
slept.

I take a deep breath as I entertain this
pleasant thought.
I pull
back a bit and look up at him. His eyes are soft and understanding
when he leans down, brushing his lips against mine. I close my eyes
and press against him slightly.