Chapter 10 Oliver
Oliver
Ihad just placed my mouth against hers when she jerked back, doubled over, and vomited.
The contents of her stomach were nothing but liquid, and it splattered on both our shoes and up our legs.
I stepped away to give her some room, and I gathered her hair to hold it back.
I pressed my lips into a tight line as I waited for her to finish.
It took her several minutes to get it all out.
She stood and wiped her chin with the back of her hand. “I don't feel very good, Rick.”
“At least you haven't lost your sense of humor,” I muttered. “Come on, let's turn in for the night.”
I opened the car door for her and helped her inside. I bent down and buckled her in, then shut the door. I let out a deep breath as I shook my head in annoyance. I knew I should have stopped her hours before.
She was asleep before I could even walk around the car.
I found a cheap motel for the night, but she refused to wake up to walk inside, so I had to carry her.
I placed her on the bed and took a step back to catch my breath as I looked down at her.
She was out cold, looked pale, and was still covered in vomit.
Both of us were. Shaking my head, I moved toward her again to remove her boots.
It was splattered up the legs of her jeans, too, but I didn’t know what to do about that.
I didn’t want her to sleep, covered in her own puke, but I didn’t want to seem like a creep by taking her pants off either.
She had bought something earlier in the day to sleep in, but again, I didn’t think it would be a good idea to remove her clothes when she wasn’t able to give me permission to.
I shook my head and waved my hand through the air, deciding to just leave her as she was.
I put a trash can by the bed in case she woke up sick, and I bought a couple of bottles of water from the vending machine, leaving one on the table for her. Once I was pretty sure that she’d be OK, I stripped down and went to take a shower.
I closed my eyes and hung my head as I let the water rain over me. I had a nice buzz going, but I wasn’t nearly as drunk as she was. I had more practice at handling my liquor, plus I didn’t drink all those sugary, fruity shots she did. I wondered how much of the night she’d remember.
Would she remember dancing with me? Would she remember our kiss?
Once I was alone, she was all I could think of.
My cock throbbed with need when I thought back on our dance.
The palms of my hands warmed as I remembered how it felt to have them on her hips.
I thought about pressing my cock against her ass as she wiggled it against me.
I remembered the smell of her as I ran my nose up her neck.
I knew she liked it too because she let her head fall back against me for a moment before she turned around to face me.
When she wrapped her arms around my neck, all it took was one look in her eyes to see that she wanted me just as badly as I wanted her.
I knew messing around with her was a bad idea.
I didn’t know her, and she didn’t know me.
We were two very different people, each from a different background.
I grew up privileged, while she grew up with nothing.
She was forced to live a life of crime, and I willingly took that on.
We were complete opposites, with only one thing in common: we were both in the process of leaving our old lives behind, looking toward our future in a desperate attempt to start over.
Fate threw us together, and it was only a matter of time before it pulled us apart.
I climbed out of the shower and headed for bed. It didn’t take any time at all before I was out cold.
Those last couple of days must have been harder on me than I thought because once I was out, I was out, and the alcohol I'd consumed only made my sleep deeper.
I didn't remember stirring throughout the night.
All I knew was that one minute I was just lying down, and the next, I was waking up when I felt the bed move.
I opened my eyes to the room being filled with bright light.
I rolled over and found Amelia curled up beside me.
“How are you feeling this morning?” I asked softly.
“I feel like crap that's been eaten and crapped out again.”
I smirked. “That's pretty bad.”
She rubbed her face. “You’re telling me. Why'd you let me drink like that?”
I frowned at her. “I tried to cut you off at least three times last night. I had to haul your ass out of there by throwing you over my shoulder if you remember correctly.”
“I don't.” She let her hands fall away from her face. “I don't remember anything from last night.”
“You don't remember anything?” I asked, wondering if she remembered our dance or the shortest kiss known to man.
She took a deep breath as she thought about it.
“I remember going to the bar and having dinner. I remember choking down a nasty beer and playing darts.” She rolled onto her side, facing me.
“I remember hanging out with a group we met there and drinking. A lot. But everything else is just a blur. I’m trying to figure out what was real and what I dreamed. ”
“Why don't you ask me if the things you remember really happened?”
She bit her bottom lip and hesitated for a moment. “Did I get up and dance with those girls?”
I grinned and nodded. “You did.”
Her face turned bright pink, and she covered it with her hands as she groaned.
“That's so embarrassing.”
I shrugged. “It could've been worse.”
“How?”
“It could've been on the bar or something.”
She laughed, but she cut it off almost immediately as her hand moved to her temples. “Ow. I have the worst headache ever. This is terrible. Why do people do this?”
“You had fun last night,” I reminded her.
“Wish I could remember it.” Her eyes popped open and locked with mine. “Did we dance together last night?”
I nodded. “We did.”
Her brows lifted, and her eyes glazed over like she was remembering more. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip before her eyes found mine again. “Did… Did we kiss?”
“If that's what you wanna call it. It only lasted for two seconds before you were throwing up.”
“Oh, gosh. I-I…” Her cheeks bloomed a brighter red. “Just so you know, one thing didn't have anything to do with the other.”
I chuckled and pushed the blanket back. “Good to know.”
“Where are you going?” she asked, watching me with her brows knitted together.
I turned back to look down at her. “I’m going to the bathroom. Then I figured I’d put some clothes on and go out and grab us some breakfast.”
“You don’t wanna talk about what happened?”
“What happened?” I asked, lifting my hand and letting it fall back to my side.
“We-We kissed.”
“You don’t even remember it.”
“I remember it,” she argued, her cheeks still red.
“Fine, let’s talk about it. You start.” I motioned toward her.
She pushed herself to sit up, but I noticed her face suddenly lose all color. Her hands moved to her head, and she fell back. “I feel awful.”
“And that’s why we don’t need to talk about it right now. You’ll feel better after you get a greasy breakfast,” I said, walking to the bathroom.
I used the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and pulled on some clothes before walking back into the room.
“Thank God. I have to use the bathroom so bad,” she said, sitting up and throwing the blankets back.
She wasn’t wearing the clothes she had on when I put her to bed, though.
She had nothing on but a t-shirt and a pair of pink panties.
She gasped and yanked the blanket back up to her waist. “Did you change my clothes last night?”
“No!” I said quickly. “When I put you to bed, you still had on your jeans that were covered in puke. The only thing I took off was your boots.”
I thought she’d accuse me, but instead, she just got quiet as she stared at the wall. “Is it possible that I got up last night and changed my clothes, and I just don’t remember?” She looked up at me.
“It wouldn’t be the first time a drunk person did something they didn’t remember.”
She groaned as she yanked at the sheet. Once it was ripped free, she wrapped it around her waist and rushed to the bathroom. She slammed the bathroom door shut behind her, and half the sheet was still in the room, trapped underneath the door.
Shaking my head, I sat down to put on my shoes, but I stopped when I realized they were covered in dried vomit.
“Fuck my life,” I groaned.
After a few minutes, the bathroom door opened, and she came walking back, dragging that big ass sheet behind her until she flopped back into bed. I took my boots to the bathroom and rinsed them off with the handheld showerhead. I wiped them dry and then pulled them on.
“What do you want for breakfast?” I asked, gathering my wallet and busted phone from the table where I left them.
“Whatever,” she mumbled with her eyes closed as she tried to go back to sleep.
I grabbed the Tylenol from her bag and tossed the bottle onto the bed. “Take two of those and drink some water—hangovers are mostly dehydration. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
I locked the door behind me and climbed behind the wheel.
I thought we were in a small town, but it turned out we were just on the edge of a smaller city.
I only drove a couple of miles down the road before everything started to change.
Roads widened and smoothed, the speed limit rose, and then I started seeing all the businesses.
There were gas stations, stores, and restaurants.
I ran through a McDonald’s drive-thru and headed back toward the motel once I had some food.
I couldn’t stop thinking about Amelia the entire way. How pretty she was. How pathetic I was. How soft the brief brush of her lips had been against mine. Just thinking about her made my dick hard.
I had to get myself sorted. I returned to the motel and took a few moments in the parking lot to calm myself.
“Come on, sleepyhead. Wake up,” I said, walking into the room.
She was still in bed with her arm thrown over her eyes. She didn’t move, but she groaned.
“We have to check out in a couple of hours, so we have to get you moving.” I sat on the bed and dug into the bag. “I got you a bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit and a hash brown.”
She lifted her arm so she could see, then she took the hash brown from my hand and took a big bite, letting her arm fall back over her eyes.
I chuckled and grabbed the remote to turn on the TV.
I flipped through the channels until I found a local news station, watching as I ate.
When she finished, she had a little more color in her cheeks and was able to get up and shower. I picked up the room while she was getting cleaned up, and I packed up what little stuff we had. She exited the bathroom a little while later.
“Can we just stay here another night?” she asked, flopping down onto the bed.
The chair I was sitting in had wheels, so I wheeled myself to the foot of the bed and picked up her foot to put on her boot that I’d already cleaned. I rested her foot on my thigh as I worked on loosening the laces. When I glanced up at her, I found her blue eyes watching my every move.
“We need to hit the road, but you just have to get into the car. You can sleep while I drive.”
“Why are you doing this?”
Her question threw me off for a moment, so I just studied her expression. Two lines had formed between her brows as she looked at me with confusion.
“Doing what?” I asked, picking up her other foot to put in her other shoe.
“Why are you taking care of me? You put my shoes on for me, you carried me to bed last night, and I remember seeing you at the bar. You were watching me, but not in a-a flirtatious way. It was in a, um, protective way. I-I was with my ex for years, and he never did all of these things for me. You don’t even know me, not really.
So, why are you doing this?” The look on her pretty face told me she was truly confused.
I put her foot on the floor and held out my hand.
She took it, and I pulled her until she was sitting before me. Her face was only a couple of inches away from mine, and our eyes were locked on one another.
“I’m just treating you the way you should be treated. We were in a bar where we didn’t know anyone. You needed someone to have your back.” I paused and breathed out. “And I’m putting your shoes on because I know how you feel, and I’m mostly the reason for it, so I’m sorry.”
She leaned forward like she was going to kiss me, but I pulled back so it couldn’t happen.
“I don’t think that’s a very good idea right now.”
“Why not?” she asked, looking upset by my rejection. Her cheeks were back to being stained red again.
I hated myself for not doing it. Fuck, I was an idiot.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I think things are complicated enough as they are. There’s no need to make it any worse.”
Her brows knitted together, and her next words were soft. “You don’t want to kiss me anymore?”
I shook my head. “It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?” Her blue eyes wavered. I could tell I’d really hurt her feelings.
Fucking hell.
I took a deep breath. “I just want to make sure that it’s something you really want. I don’t want you feeling like you owe me. Or turning it into me owing you.”
I watched the expression fall from her face.
“Y-You don’t owe me, Oliver.”
“I do,” I said. “Money.”
She sighed. “I’m not a prostitute.”
“What?” I frowned at her. “That’s not what I meant.
I wouldn’t pay you for sex. I meant that I owe you the money for this trip.
That’s all. We’re good, OK? I promise. I’ll get you paid off, and you can do whatever it is you planned on doing.
Live that new life. We don’t need to complicate things with kissing or anything else. ”
“You’re right,” she whispered.
I sighed, taking in the way her plump bottom lip trembled.
“I’m just not…” My words trailed off. I wasn’t what? I had no fucking clue. Maybe I should have just said I was scared. That I wasn’t good enough for her. That she deserved better than me. Instead, I didn’t finish the sentence.
I watched her get to her feet and grab her bag. “Let’s go. You’re right.”
My heart deflated a little as I got to my feet. I guess I’d hoped she’d fight me a little. Tell me she wanted me since I was too much of an idiot to say it to her.
Instead, she walked to the door and gave me a smile over her shoulder. That smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, though.
“You owe me almost three hundred dollars now,” she said, pulling the door open. “If you’d have let me keep Kevin, then I may have given you a discount.”
She left me standing there, shaking my head.
The girl was sure… something.