Chapter 25Olivia
Olivia
“Okay, it’s Tuesday night,” I sigh, cuddling my knees to my chest with a Pinot Grigio in hand. “I think I’ve let enough time pass before I reach out to him.” My body sinks into the plush couch when I sip on the crisp wine, just waiting for Lauren to flash the green light.
“I think you can make him wait a little longer,” she says as she strolls her way into the living room.
“Ugh,” I grunt, tossing my head back. “It’s so hard. I deserve a medal for reserving my impulses.”
Lauren drops on the sofa, curling her legs at her side as she faces me.
“You’re going to thank me for making him wait.
He has a girlfriend at the moment, so being clingy and overbearing is not going to make Cade want to chase you.
In fact, it’s not going to do shit.” Her hand slips into her copper waves as she pins me with a knowing smile.
I know she’s right.
I just don’t want her to be right.
I purse my lips, pivoting my head to catch the bonfire scene on the episode of Temptation Island playing. “Maybe we’ll just see how I feel after this glass of wine.”
“Ah. You’re going to try to blame your actions on alcohol when you finally cave. Well played, Liv. Well played .”
I pop a shoulder, burying deeper into the throw pillows as I tug on the hem of my tank top.
The images of tiki torches and tropical flowers bounce in front of me, but all I see is Cade’s stubbled lips.
On me. Caressing me. “No one kisses someone like that if they’re in love with their girlfriend or boyfriend. ”
“That good, huh?” Lauren asks.
“Fucking. Fireworks.”
Her palm taps my thigh through my pajama pants, knocking my daze from the TV to her. “What are you thinking of doing? Just texting him? Showing up at his brewery? What’s the actual goal here?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know if he’s even working tonight.”
“Wow, I’m shocked,” she retorts, her brown eyes swelling dramatically. “Given your level of stalking, I have to say, I’m a little disappointed in you. Not going to lie.”
My eyes roll as I return my attention to the distraught guy watching his girlfriend hook up with someone else.
This show knows no bounds.
“I guess there was always bound to be a flaw somewhere in my detective work,” I say. “Honestly, I blame it on his lips. They totally fucked the equilibrium of my brain.” My mouth meets the rim of the stemless glass, and the sweet wine soaks my tongue.
“Try texting him.”
A cough stumbles from my mouth, my palm slapping to my chest as I face Lauren.
“I’m sorry, what?” I ask. “This has to be some sort of attempt for you to give me bad advice just to see how much of a shit storm I can start.” Then my eyes hood, staring at her skeptically.
“Oh my god, I’m your new reality TV show to indulge in, aren’t I? ”
Lauren chuckles, reaching out to thread her fingers in my ponytail. “Okay, I do like to watch drama unfold just as much as you do, yes.” Then she shines a kind smile as she continues, “But I do think there might be something to unpack here. Might be .”
“Ew, stop it. You’re freaking me out,” I snarl playfully, shoving my hand into her chest. “How much wine did you drink already?”
Lauren sighs, turning to grab her Cabernet off the end table.
“Only a quarter of a glass.” She twists her body so that her back is leaning against the armrest. “All I’m saying is if he took the leap to kiss you, then maybe you owe it to yourself to see if he keeps his word.
If he doesn’t, nothing was lost.” Then she sips on the ruby liquid.
I redirect my eyes to the television, images flashing in and out as my mind rewinds recent events. Or lack thereof, in my case.
Give me the week.
Uh huh.
His time is running out quickly, and I’d love to indirectly call him out on his bullshit. If that’s what it is.
I toss Lauren a dreadful look before taking my phone off the coffee table. My thumbs tap around the screen, swiftly opening my texting thread with Cade to type a message.
Me: Should I stop myself from coming down to your brewery tonight?
Truthfully, I don’t have any intention of driving to see him tonight. The first reason being that I’m two glasses of wine deep right now. The second being that I’m way too comfy snuggled on the couch. And the third reason being that I’m a little pissed off at his fine ass.
This message is more about fishing for the information I need. Is he truly dedicated to seeing where things can go with me?
I don’t need to ask the questions flat out. There’s always enough to read between the lines when you’ve grown to know someone pretty well.
A dull rumbling in my palm cranks my eyes down to the small screen.
Cade: I’m not there tonight. I’ll be there Thursday ‘til closing.
I play with the idea of texting back and teasing him. But at this stage in our relationship, it would be pointless and predictable.
Unoriginal.
No.
I need to give him something to remember. Something that’s going to resuscitate his heart from the hell it’s been living in. Something that’s going to make him sure about this.
About us .
About me .
So long as he keeps his word, I’ll be armed to get exactly what I came for.
Cade
The pads of my fingers vaguely rest on my mouth, and I swear I can still feel the trail of her lip gloss. Her hot mouth. Her silken touch. Her sweet taste. All of it was so fucking perfect that I’m kicking myself for not kissing her under that spreading tree.
Olivia entices me, but not only in a provocative way. Her sex appeal shines through her confidence and passion. In the way she sees me . I don’t have to speak many words for her to understand me.
We connect on every tier.
She just fits.
I’ve never met anyone like her. When we’re around each other, it’s like we’ve already been acquainted in a different life. Spending time with her is easy . And if someone is ever on the outside looking in, they’d never tell where I began or she ended.
We’re seamless.
Two feathers of the same bird.
Or guardian angel.
They say, if it’s meant to be, it will be , and Olivia and I just are . We’re two lost souls that found the same home. I can’t speak for Olivia just yet, but I know that I need her. I need her warmth. I need her smile. And I want all her “fuck yous.”
As much as I want to stand here and bury myself in thoughts of her, I reach for my phone on the granite to dial the necessary number.
I promised her a clean slate.
“Hi, is Jenna Campbell available? It’s her boyfriend, Cade Owens.”
My palm snuggles the phone to my ear, while the other is planted on a kitchen cabinet.
“Let me check,” the receptionist replies through the speaker.
“Thanks.”
Ever since I found the note, I’ve opted to sleep on the couch whenever Jenna was home instead of working. I haven’t made her aware of my proof, but that’s because I was waiting for today.
As part of her usual routine, she told me she was heading into work early this evening, to which I didn’t say squat.
I figure if she had the nerve to fuck me over for the last several months, the least I could do is load my defense with more ammunition.
Catch her heart off guard the way she did mine.
I refuse to be lied to.
Even more so, I refuse to be made a fool of.
For so long, I wanted to hold on to the shred of faith that remained. But now? Now I just don’t give a shit. That’s truly the beauty of pain. It cripples you with this numbness, and the only sensation your heart feels is the pins and needles of useless emotions. Wasted feelings. Tarnished memories.
As much as the pain is torture, it’s also liberating. And today, I’m unlocking the chain that attaches my heart to Jenna’s.
The thing is, I know I’m going to be her safety net when her affair crumbles. Once she realizes this guy wants nothing more than her body, he’ll move on to the next woman, and Jenna will pry her way back into my life. I know her too well to doubt the outcome of all of this.
Fuck that.
“I’m sorry, but Jenna is not set to come in until seven o’clock tonight.”
“She told me she was coming in early today. Wednesday . Are you positive?” I plead.
Hit me with it.
Come on.
A rage crawls up my spine, threatening to tear every unfastened object off the counters and shelves.
My palm balls into a fist against the wooden cabinet, wanting nothing more than to shatter every plate, every glass, and every picture frame in this house.
Just so I can leave it wrecked until it’s unrecognizable.
Like our relationship.
“I just double checked with the head nurse on staff. She’s been scheduled for seven o’clock tonight.”
“Thanks for your time.”
I instantly hang up, dropping my phone on the granite countertop. My fists slam into the cabinet door, eyes bolting shut as I breathe through a battered chest.
Jenna doesn’t get to win anymore. She’s committed the ultimate betrayal, and this is the nail in our coffin.
It’s done.
We’re done.
So fucking done.