“What about the man that Rita matched you with?”
“I’m going to write him a letter telling him I can’t see him. I’m just not the kind of girl who can have two men on the hook.” It’s true, the guilt I’ve felt is real, and it feels like black tar on my heart.
I look at the clock and notice it’s past eight already. Harrison hasn’t called or texted since early this morning. I know he’s traveling home today, but I thought he would call me by now. I chew on my bottom lip, both hoping he’s okay and worrying that he might finally be realizing that I’m not what he wants.
It’s obvious to me that he wasn’t looking for a relationship when he met me. It wasn’t until he realized I was a virgin that he changed his tune. I’ve read romance novels about cherry chasers, but that doesn’t fit Harrison either. If that were the case, he would’ve taken my virginity that first night and been done with me the next day… but he didn’t. He even said that I deserve better.
Unless that was part of the game…
Zoe and I don’t talk about Harrison anymore. For that, I’m thankful because my mind is doing enough talking for the both of us and none of it feels very good to my in-too-deep heart. After a couple more episodes of Friends, she heads home with promises of donuts and coffee later in the week.
I still haven’t heard from Harrison, and my heart hurts wondering if he’s done with me now. After a quick shower, I pull on an oversized t-shirt and crawl into bed. It takes a long time for me to drift off to a fitful sleep, my mind filled with Harrisonwith a tall, buxom brunette laughing about me, thinking he would ever choose a woman like me.
I’m jerked from sleep by a knock on my door. Bleary-eyed, I answer without looking, not my finest moment of single woman safety in the city. I’m surprised to see Harrison standing there in a t-shirt and jeans. I’ve got to admit, even to my sleep addled mind, he looks damn good in casual clothes. Maybe better than in his suits. His tattoos are on display on his arm, and the jeans hang low showing off his trim waist.
God, he’s sexy.
“Olive.” He says my name like it’s the most precious word in the dictionary, and I can’t help but melt. All worries from earlier are crushed under the weight of that one word.
“You didn’t call,” I respond stupidly.
“Sorry, angel. My phone died, and I forgot my charger in the hotel.”
His explanation is so simple and makes me feel like an idiot for letting my imagination get the best of me. Another hazard of my job, I suppose. If only my imagination would save the drama for my novels.
“It’s okay…”
“Were you worried?” he asks with a furrowed brow.
I nod my head, and he makes a pained sound, then closes the distance between us and wraps me up in his arms. “I’m sorry.”
He kisses the top of my head and apologizes again. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”
I shake my head, feeling silly. “It’s not your fault I have an overactive imagination.”
Harrison chuckles. “I happen to like your imagination.”
I relax into his hold, enjoying the warmth of his strong arms around me.
“That’s good. An active imagination is sort of my thing.”
I try to hold it back, but I let out a jaw-cracking yawn. It’s way past my bedtime and I’m exhausted from sleeping so poorly before he got here.
“Let’s get you back to bed,” he says.
I squeal when he picks me up and carries me to the bedroom.
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
HARRISON
Eight hoursafter I was supposed to be back in the city, I finally have Olive in my arms. I’ve never been more frustrated by airline delays in my life. I haven’t even been home. I came straight here, not wanting to miss another minute of time with her. It’s been days since I’ve had her within arm’s reach, and I’m not going to waste a single second.
When Olive opened the door, all sleep rumpled wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt with “Book Whoarder” written on it and a messy bun on top of her head; I couldn’t keep from thinking about how sexy she is. Even rumpled from bed, she’s the sexiest creature I’ve ever had the pleasure of being with.
I carry her back to her bed, laying her out like the goddess she is. She snuggles into her pillow and watches me strip to my boxers with sleepy but lustful eyes. I crawl in beside her and kiss her gently. Any other time I would take it farther, but this woman deserves so much more than me throwing myself at her like a ravenous animal.
