"Since grade seven when Olivia joined my class." Her eyes glazed over with memories that tore at her heart. "She was like a grown up then. The way she walked and talked...she fascinated me, I guess."
"She was like an adult in grade seven?" I asked hoarsely. From the records I read, Olivia seemed to have had the perfect family. She had been born into money and privilege. From what I read, the only tragedy that touched her life was when her grandfather had passed away, and even then, he left her his inheritance.
Trisha looked up at me with cold eyes. Shit, she was not going to say another word. "I have said too much. Olivia doesn't like to share the personal aspects of her life and she would be furious with me if I said anything more."
I nodded despite the fact that I wanted to fall to my knees and beg for just another word. I really was obsessed with her. It was all the more reason why I needed her to wake up so I could walk away and forget about her. Damn, why won't she wake up?
"It's late." Trisha said after a few minutes of silence. "I should be getting back home. Olivia would beat me if I forgot to feed Moo-moo."
My brows shot to the center of my forehead and my eyes widened. Who the hell was Moo-moo? "Who?"
Trisha giggled as she brushed the hair back away from Olivia's face. "Oh, Moo-moo is a kitten Olivia brought home one night. She found him all alone on the street and she couldn't walk away. She can't walk away from an animal in need." She looked at her friend with adoration. "She never could."
I watched Trisha exit the room and blew out a deep breath. Olivia rescued homeless animals and named them...Moo-moo? Of all the names, she chose Moo-moo. Why? My eyes flickered to the girl in the bed and I smiled before the simple act had registered in my brain.
I shook my head and stood. I needed a shower. I needed to take a moment to stop thinking about her. I was beginning to fear for my sanity. I shouldn't want to know anything about her. I never wanted to know all the little intimate details of the women I pursued, but I wanted to know them about her. I wanted to know everything about her and I hoped to God...if there was a God, when he let her open her eyes, my unexplainable desire to know her would dissipate.
I needed my damned life back.
I walked quickly across the room and closed myself in the adjoining bathroom. I was paying a large sum of money for the private suite, so I may as well use its facilities.
***
I moaned, as I shifted in the bed. Good God...how much had I drank last night? My entire body ached as though I had been beat with a baseball bat and my head throbbed. My muscles were stiff and I feared, for a moment, if I was to move, they might even creak like the wheels of a bike with no oil. Oh hell, who was I kidding? I couldn't move. This was the worst hangover I ever had. I couldn't even remember my night. The last thing I remembered was texting Trisha about two bottles of wine. I decided, right then and there, I was done with wine. I would never drink it again! Never ever! God, my head ached.
After a long moment of trying desperately to build up the courage to open my eyes, I did. My lashes felt as though they had been braided together by sleep. It took a few minutes to untangle them enough to open my eyes just enough to see the room was dimly lit. I thanked the heavens it was not too bright. Even still, the dim light that lit the room made my eyes burn with watery tears. I slammed my lids closed and tried to build the courage to try again. I just needed to get used to the light. And, I was never, ever, going to drink another drop of alcohol again for as long as I lived. I didn't think it was possible for a bottle of wine to make you feel as though you had been hit by a bus...but, I guess anything is possible. And who knows, maybe I drank more than just the one bottle. I mean, I couldn't remember my evening...so, I very well could have drank much more than I thought.
I peeled my eyes open again just in time to see the door across the room open. A man stepped into the room...or no...a God, stepped into the room. My eyes popped open and my mouth dropped. Holy moly! He was gorgeous. His black hair was wet and messy and his chest was bared. His naturally tan skin glistened from the residue of water and his muscles rippled with each movement. He ran a towel through his hair, roughly drying the locks as he lifted his eyes to meet mine.
Oh my....
His eyes were the most beautiful, hypnotic shade of blue I had ever seen. They were framed with thick, long, black lashes that made me want to sigh. And, they were focused intensely on me. He froze and his lips parted. An emotion that resembled relived shock passed over his God-like features as he stared at me. I stared back. I believe the correct word was ogled, but I didn't particularly want to admit that...even to myself.