Was it true? Or was he just a smoking hot hallucination?
Probably the latter, she concluded.
She was most likely experiencing the final stages of her complete and total mental melt down.
Well, she thought sanguinely, I can think of worse ways to lose my mind than imagining the sexiest man in the world in my bedroom with me. If I have to go crazy, at least I have company.
Or, at least I'm imagining I do...
The figment of her imagination smiled at her and said, “Jason called me. Katie was worried about you. She's been trying to get a hold of you for a few days. When she wasn’t able to reach you, she wanted to fly home early to check on you. But, since I was already in California, they asked if I could stop by and make sure that you were doing alright.”
Okay, so maybe not a figment of her addled imagination. She didn't imagine that some sexy hallucination she conjured up would sit there talking to her about phone calls and plane schedules.
She said, “I haven’t gotten any calls from her.” She reached over to retrieve her phone from the nightstand but her arms were so heavy that she didn’t quite make it.
“Your phone was dead. It’s charging in the kitchen.”
She tried to get out of bed, fueled by new urgency, saying, “I need to go call her.”
However, it seemed that even new urgency was not enough to overcome physical deficits, and this proved to be much trickier than she had assumed it would be. The blankets she lay in were wrapped around her tightly, and try as she might to free her arms and legs, it felt as though her limbs were filled with lead. She was having a tough time disentangling herself.
Riley stood and stepped towards her. She stopped writhing and just stared. Good LORD that was a mighty fine male specimen moving toward her! Riley was wearing a white v-neck t- shirt that he filled out like one of the models she used to drool over on the Calvin Klein billboards. Well, to be fair, she'd actually drooled over them because they reminded her of Riley...
He looked like a Greek God in jeans.
He stood beside her bed, “I already called them last night after I got here, and I let them know that you were okay.”
He picked up a bottle of water that she hadn’t noticed was sitting on the night stand.
“You got here last night?” she asked incredulously as he twisted the cap and handed the bottle to her. She took the proffered bottle and, as she did, her fingers brushed his.
Her body reacted as if she had gotten an electric shock. A zinging sensation raced from the pads of her fingertips where she had felt his hand beneath hers and zoomed all the way up her arm. She shivered.
Trying to cover up her completely out of proportion physical reaction to this innocent touch, she quickly brought the water bottle to her lips and started sipping from it. She had no idea if she had, in fact, been successful in concealing her reaction. Maybe he'd think she'd been...thirsty? It was worth a shot. When she looked up at him, he DID seem to have a small smirk on his lips. But she could have been imagining it.
“Yes, I got here last night. The landlord let me in. I tried to wake you, but you were passed out cold.”
“Where did you sleep?” she asked as she took another small sip of water. She definitely felt a little dehydrated...in addition to all of the other things that she was definitely feeling.
“I didn’t,” he answered matter-of-factly.
Her brow furrowed, “You didn’t sleep?”
He simply shook his head.
“At all?”
He shook his head again.
Chelle knew that she was still a little (well, maybe a lot) foggy-brained...but that simply didn’t make any sense. She was certain she would be having the same reaction even if she were clear-headed. Why in the world would he not sleep?
Well, she thought dryly, only one way to find out.
“Why didn’t you sleep?”
“I didn’t want you to wake up and be scared that some guy was in the apartment. Plus, I didn’t know how much you had drunk, so I wanted to make sure you were alright.”
“So you just watched me sleep,” she smiled sheepishly before taking another drink of water, “Sorry that must have been boring.”
His voice dropped an octave and there was almost a growl to it as he said softly, “No, it wasn’t.”
She shivered again, this time solely from the baritone vibrations of his voice. Her eyes shot up to meet his. He looked down at her, his gaze intense and…hot. She felt a tightening in her stomach (and a fluttering a little farther south) from just the expression in his eyes alone.
Wow. He had such amazing eyes.
It was almost as if she could lose herself in them, they were deep and always held so much emotion. She had forgotten what looking into them made her feel. It was like when you didn't eat a favorite food for several years. Obviously, you remembered how much you loved it, but the passing of time makes that memory almost academic.