But Eric wasn't tired.
He could have stayed up all night, talking to her, looking at her.
Neither of them said anything to stop Jude's plan, and before long, both of them were gone and Eric was alone in his apartment.
He felt lonely for her, and he reminded himself that he would have been in the same situation if he had gone to his hotel.
He had pursued things in business and in life but he never felt the urge to pursue a woman like this.
What he found next made it even worse.
Eric found an envelope in the bathroom of the apartment where he was staying. His name was on it, and he saw it the second he turned on the light. Eric wore an easy smile as he pulled the card from the envelope. It was one of Olivia's drawings. It was a man standing next to a horse in the winner's circle. It was stylized, but it was certainly the likeness of him standing next to Mister Everything.
Olivia normally used black pen and mostly outlines with light shading in her drawings, but this one had color. The whole thing almost had the look of a cast iron toy. It looked a little like it had been done in pastels, but it hadn't smeared when he pulled it out of the envelope. He thought it might be watercolor.
Eric turned it, inspecting it from different angles. It pleased him to be made into a drawing. He loved that Olivia was talented in this way. He felt like he and that horse had already won just from looking at that drawing of them in the winner's circle. Even if nothing came of the horse, this memento would always be special to him. It was on heavy cardstock and beautifully executed, and he knew he would have it framed.
He was so taken by the outside of the card that he forgot it was a card at all. He opened it and stared at the handwriting inside. It was a beautiful combination of cursive and print, and it was meticulously spaced and even. There were no lines, and he stared at the perfect rows of writing, wondering how she had made it so perfect. He scanned to the bottom of the note and saw her signature with the big letter O. His gaze went back to the top where he began reading.
Eric,
Congratulations on your new horse! And thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for trusting and helping my brother. I don’t think you'll be disappointed. I am excited to see what adventure awaits you guys and Mister Everything. I think it's going to be great!
Olivia
The entire card was beautiful to look at. Eric stared at the outside again before opening it and reading it a second time. When had she made this? When had she put it into the apartment? She had to have done it earlier, before he ever decided to stay there. He had hardly taken his eyes off of her since they came together earlier that night. He knew she hadn't put the note in his room since they got home from the game. He racked his brain, and came to the conclusion that she had put it in the room when he still had plans to get a hotel. It intrigued him that she would just let him find it and not mention it at all. She had obviously spent a lot of time on the little work of art and most people would have said something about it—told him that it was waiting in his room and made sure he knew to look for it.
He was intrigued by Olivia, taken with her.
They had already said goodnight and made plans to get together in the morning for breakfast, but he couldn't help himself. He sent her a text.
Eric:
I love this card. Thank you. And I had fun tonight. Thanks for that too.
He sent it to her, and he kept his phone handy because he thought he might hear back quickly.
But that wasn't the case. He kept an eye on his phone for the next half hour or so, but Olivia didn't text him back. There was nothing to do but go on with his evening. He returned some texts and emails before showering and changing, and then he turned on the television.
It was 11pm when he heard back from her. His phone was sitting beside him on the bed when it dinged. The Tanners had a couple of streaming services hooked to his television and he chose a cooking show to space out on before he fell asleep. He had just about given up on hearing back from Olivia when her return text came through.
Olivia:
I am so sorry I'm just seeing this. I was visiting with Aunt Rhonda and my phone was in my purse. I'm happy you liked the card and that you had fun. I did too. Congratulations on the horse!
Eric wasn't even finished reading it when the second text came in.
He read the first and then went down to the second which said:
Olivia:
Oh, no. Sorry about how late it is. I sent before I even looked at the time. Rest well.
He stared at the phone with an absentminded smile as he typed out the reply.
Eric:
How did you get that card into the apartment?
Olivia:
I left it in there this afternoon.
Eric:
I almost went to a hotel.
Olivia:
I would have given it to you tomorrow.
Eric:
It's a masterpiece. It's sitting on my bedside table. I'll frame it when I get home.
Olivia took a little longer to reply—maybe a minute or so.
Olivia:
It makes me happy that you like it. I’m really glad you're here.
Eric:
Me too. It took too long to see you.
It was a little bold, but Eric felt brave or impatient, or perhaps both.
Olivia:
I agree. It was a relief seeing you today.
Eric gripped the phone tightly when he read her words. He experienced urges at the thought of her being relieved. He rested his head on the back of the headboard with a sigh, staring at the ceiling for a few seconds while he gathered his thoughts. He thought of a few responses, but nothing shy of please come back over here seemed right.
Eric spent a minute trying to think of something to say. He wanted to see Olivia again that night, but he didn't know if it was okay to come out and ask her if he could. While he was working up the nerve, Olivia assumed she had said too much and sent a text trying to explain.
Olivia:
It just seems like we've been talking forever on the phone. It was crazy putting a face to your voice.
Eric: I was relieved, too. I don't know why we didn't meet up in Philly.
Olivia:
I'm better here, anyway. (Smiley face.) It's better that we connect here. This life here is better than my Philly life.
Eric's fear when he read her text was that she wouldn't want to see him once they got home. This was obviously unacceptable.
Eric:
What's that mean?
Olivia:
I don't know. Just that my Kentucky family is fun. I'm glad you're getting to see this side of my life.
Eric wanted to know that he'd be able to see her once they went back to Philadelphia. He wanted to make her promise that.
Eric:
What about the other side of your life? Will you be glad for me to see that?
Olivia:
Not really.
Eric:
Why not?
Olivia: I'm not un-glad about it, but I'm cooler in KY. You and I can just hook up here twice a year.
Eric:
Can I talk to you?
Olivia:
On the phone?
Eric:
No.
Olivia:
Do you want to come over here?
Eric:
Yes.
Olivia:
Meet me at the front entrance of my uncle's in ten minutes.
Eric replied with a simple, "Yes," and instantly sprang off the bed.
Chapter 12
Olivia
I was waiting at the front door when I saw Eric's Rover pull into the circle driveway. It was cold out, and all I had on was a pair of thermal pajamas, so I stayed inside to wait for him.
I stood by the door and watched him approach. I knew the code to their home alarm, so I made sure it was switched off before unlocking the door.
Eric smiled when he saw the door open. He was in street clot
hes—jeans and boots with a jacket—mostly the same clothes he had on at the game. He had taken a shower, though. I could tell because he had a different t-shirt on and his hair was laying differently.
"I thought you said you'd rather be called Olivia," was the first thing he said to me as he came up the steps toward the door.
"I would rather be called that. Why?"
I spoke at a normal volume. My aunt and uncle had gone to bed, but their house was gigantic, and there was no way they could hear us. There were enough lights on in the house to see where you were going, but it was much darker now than it was when everybody was awake. Eric followed me inside, and I watched as he looked around.
"Nice," he said. I stared at the side of his face—at the lines and curves, at the subtle indention of his cheek and the dusting of short facial hair that grew there. It was difficult to do anything but stare at him. My body experienced sensations that made a nervous smile cross my face.
"You can hang your jacket right in here," I said, opening the nearby coat closet.
Eric stepped inside like he knew just what to do. He expertly shed his jacket and shoes and stashed them out of the way.
We walked out of the closet. I headed for the den where we would find a huge living area with comfortable couches and chairs. "Why'd you say that about my name?" I asked.
"Because you were saying your life was better down here."
"It is. Kind of."
"But everybody here calls you Livi."
I laughed at his logic. "My life being better down here doesn't have anything to do with my name," I said.
"What's it have to do with?" he asked.
"It's not that my life is better, necessarily. It's just different." I gestured around us, to the sprawling mansion with marble floors. "This doesn't exist in my normal life. My dad is Uncle E's brother, but it doesn't translate to anything material. My dad doesn't live like this. He's got an apartment. He works at a home improvement store."
We were silent for a few seconds as we walked, and I glanced at Eric when we approached the den.
"Is that supposed to mean I won't be able to see you in Philadelphia? That's what I don't understand."
I shook my head, but I also shrugged a little. "I'm happy with the things I've accomplished in my life so far. I love my mom and dad and everything, but they're different than this. My life's not this cool in Philly. I'm not saying it's bad there, it's just different. All the basketball games and autographs and matching pajamas, all of that disappears in Philadelphia."
"Your aunt and uncle wear matching pajamas?" he asked.
We came around the front of the couch, and I laughed as we sat down. I plopped down, into the corner of the couch with a sigh. This sectional was deep and wide with fluffy pillows—the epitome of comfort. Eric sat close to me on the cushion next to mine. I stared at him. I wasn't normally the type to think I wasn't good enough for someone just because of how much money they had, but I had to be honest this time. Things were different in Kentucky than they were in Philadelphia.
"I wasn't talking about my aunt and uncle having matching pajamas," I said. "I meant me. I meant these. Aunt Rhonda had them waiting on the bed for me when I arrived. I think they're made of some kind of bamboo. Even the clothes I had on tonight at the game were Stella's."
I stopped talking and sat there, waiting to see how Eric would respond. I was a little shy saying those things, so my eyes had been roaming. I had been glancing all around, at the couch and at his knees and feet and hands.
"This is the fairy tale section of my life," I added when the thought crossed my mind.
"Come here," he said.
My gaze snapped up to meet his. His eyes sparkled mischievously even though he wasn't quite smiling.
"I am here," I said.
The hint of a smile touched Eric's lips, and I had to hold myself back from throwing myself into his arms. He seemed to be asking for that.
"Come all the way here," he said nudging his chin at me.
The couch was soft, and I scooted somewhat awkwardly toward him. My leg was cocked-up onto the couch, and I landed with my knee overlapping his leg a little bit.
"Is that what you mean?" I asked, seeming calm even though my heart was beating a mile a minute thanks to all the leg touching.
"Not quite, but it's better than nothing."
"I'm basically on your lap," I said, wearing a deadpan expression that made his face break into a wide smile.
"Yeah, no you're not. That's the problem."
"I just told you this isn't my real life," I said. "Shouldn't we take a second to figure out how you feel about that?"
"I don't need a second," he said. "I know immediately that I don't feel anything about it. I'm not concerned with what you buy, or wear, or what kind of house your dad lives in. I really hope you weren't saying that because you think I wouldn't want to see you in Philadelphia for reasons like that."
"I mean, when you put it like that."
He smiled. "There's no other way to put it." He put his hand on my knee. It was big and warm—I could feel it's warmth the instant he set it on my leg. "I don't care what pajamas you're wearing, Olivia, if they match or not, or what house you're sitting in. You could be in a hut in a hammock." He paused and tilted his head. "I'd like to see you like that, actually."
I smiled. "I'm normally not self-conscious about my life. It's just that you're you, and well, now you have this to compare it to. I just wanted to warn you that my dad and his brother are not alike."
"I've been warned, then. I'll consider myself warned."
"And you still want to…" I trailed off, hoping he would finish that sentence.
"Kiss your mouth? Yes."
He was so casual and unrepentant with his statement that I let out a little laugh.
"Oh, wow," I said, giggling.
"What? I thought I was going to get to."
"And then what?" I asked. I didn't mean to ask for some kind of commitment, but that was how it sounded, so maybe that was what I wanted. "I mean like tomorrow. With my brother and just tomorrow in general. In the daylight. Is it going to be awkward between us? Because I don't want things to be—"
I could not finish the remainder of that sentence. In one quick but gentle motion, Eric leaned toward me. He took a hold of the front of my pajamas and pulled me toward him. I easily let it happen, giving way to the momentum that carried me. I toppled toward him, and he was there to catch me. Our mouths connected like there was a gentle gravitational pull. Our contact was gentle but swift and intentional. He let his lips soften against mine and kept them that way for two or three seconds before pulling back to look at me.
He tilted his head a little, looking thoughtful.
"I'd like to know what to say to make you understand that we don't need to talk about your pajamas or your father's money ever again."
I stared into his gorgeous green eyes. "Because you don't care about any of that?" I asked, blinking at him and feeling shy and hopeful.
He shook his head almost imperceptibly. "I don't care about it," he assured me.
"I just don't want things to be awkward between us," I said, fishing for him to kiss me again like he did the last time I said it.
"Why would you think things would be awkward?" he asked.
"I don't," I said. "I was just trying to say that again since last time something good happened."
I could see that he understood what I was saying. He smiled and shook his head at me. We stared at each other for several seconds before he pulled me closer.
Eric did all the work. He resituated with me leaning halfway on his lap and he held me captive in his arms. He pulled me close, staring down at me, our bodies touching, his arms around me. His t-shirt was thin and I could feel the ridges of muscles in his arms and core. He smelled nice, and that combined with the feel of his warm body around mine was a delight to the senses. My face was right next to his, and I stared at him feeling thankful for and relieved by our proximity.
&
nbsp; I was exactly where I wanted to be. It was overwhelming being there. I had been aching for him, and the release of finally being next to him left me with an urgent feeling. I wanted our bodies to meld together. If it was humanly possible in that moment I might have crawled inside him. I had felt close to Eric many times over the phone, but nothing compared to being in his arms.
He kissed me. He did it slowly at first and then it built into something more urgent, fluid. I turned in his arms, taking his face in my palms, touching his cheeks gently. We kissed for several blood-racing moments before he pulled back. Tenderly, he leaned in and kissed me twice and then a third time before pulling back again.
"What were you saying about things being awkward?" he asked.
"I didn't want—"
He kissed me suddenly. He moved swiftly, stealing a quick but light kiss on my mouth.
"Things to get—"
He did it again.
Another kiss.
Two that time.
"Weird between—"
Kiss.
"During the day with my brother and—"
Kiss. Once, twice, three, four, five, six… ten times before pulling back to stare at me.
"What was I even saying?" I asked dazedly.
Eric smiled and I saw the flash of white teeth.
"This is definitely the fairytale section of my life," I said. I meant to think it, but I was almost positive I said it out loud.
Me & Mister Everything: A Romance (Tanner Family Book 4) Page 8