I plug her phone into the charger I had placed there earlier for me, and turn off the lamp I had left on.
Closing the bedroom door behind me, I make my way back to the hallway cupboard, pull out a duvet and an extra pillow, before making myself comfortable for the night.
Well, as comfortable as I can considering the only part of me that fits on this couch is from the waist up.
Lucky I don’t have a game for a couple of days, or I’ll be screwed.
I try to push out the thoughts of my impending wedding, and will sleep to take me.
I don’t allow myself to think about the potential repercussions or the fact that it could ruin everything I’ve worked so hard for.
Not to mention, it could completely destroy any chance Olive has in making waves in the music industry, like she hopes to do.
She’s way too talented to let a fuckup like me ruin it all for her. But for some reason, she’s willing to give it a go.
For the sake of her career and mine.
***
My body clock drags me up before the sun even starts to rise. I sit up, rub my eyes, and stifle my yawn as I glance out the window at the predawn Vegas skyline. With a sigh, I push myself up and head into the kitchen, reaching for a glass and filling it with water.
I feel surprisingly rested, considering I only got a couple of hours of sleep. Still, I’m not stupid enough to think it’ll carry me through the day.
I hear a faint noise coming from the bedroom, and my heart thunders a little harder in my chest knowing Olive could be awake in the next room to me, probably hungover.
I sneak closer to the door and realize it’s music coming from her phone, but her gentle snores overpower the sound.
An alarm is my first guess, and when I stick my head inside a little further, my suspicions are confirmed. I tiptoe to her bedside, turning off the alarm labeled CPX, hoping it isn’t important, and head back to bed.
***
"Fuck! No, no, no no." The panic in Olive’s voice sends shock waves through me. My body moves before my brain does. I’m at the foot of the bed in seconds, adrenaline spiking hard.
"What? Shit! Olive, what’s wrong?" I don’t even think. I’m just there, on the bed, moving toward her like instinct, like gravity. She sits up, the sheet clutched to her chest, her phone in her hands. Her eyes are wide as she scrolls and taps away frantically.
"My alarm. It didn’t go off!"
She jumps out of bed, rushing around the room as if she has super speed, collecting her clothing piece by piece.
I realize quickly that this is on me.
"This can’t be happening." She shakes her head.
I somehow need to find the courage to confess that it was my fault.
"I’ve never missed one before, and it’s so new to me. What happens if I do it late? Oh my God. Oh myGod." She sits on the side of the bed, shutting her eyes in frustration, before drawing deep, steady breaths while a single tear stains her cheek.
I suck in a deep breath. "I turned it off." Saying it out loud makes it worse. The words taste bitter. I thought I was helping. Thought I was doing the right thing. I only wanted her to rest. She never lets herself. Now it just feels like a fuck-up.
"You have no idea what you’ve just done, Avery." Her voice is shaking. "Hell, I don’t even know. What if it messes everything up? What if it doesn’t work the same now?" She paces the room, hands flexing at her sides, chest rising and falling fast. "Why would you do that?" Her voice breaks. "What made you think that was your choice to make?"
I hate that she won’t look at me.
"I’m sorry," I whisper, my head low. "I just thought…you needed the sleep. You’ve looked so tired. I thought I was helping."
She stops pacing, but the shake in her head is sharper now.
"You don’t get to make decisions for me. Not about this. I’ve had to be in control, because if I’m not, who is? You think just because we’re about to become—"
