Had he?
Olivia had been so lost in thought she hadn’t registered whatever he must have been saying.
“I-I think I just need to be alone,” she stammered.
“I think that’s the last thing you need.”
His honesty startled her and she stopped to look at him.
Chapter 20
Alex
Alex couldn’t stand to see Olivia suffer. He was seized with a sudden need to protect her. He wished he could just wrap her up in a blanket and hold her in his arms until she stopped hurting.
“We’re stuck in this together, Liv. Don’t push me away. Let me help you.”
“Look, I really appreciate how kind you’re being, but the truth is we don’t really know each other. I’m not going to dump my messed up life onto a stranger.”
“Are we really strangers still? After everything we’ve been through in the past twenty-four hours?”
“Yes. We’ve been through a crazy ordeal but I still know nothing about you, other than the fact that you might be an artist.”
“That’s not true,” Alex argued. He knew he hadn’t imagined the moment they’d shared in the rain yesterday. He’d felt it when he’d told her that he’d lost his mother too. They shared an understanding that few others could. That had to mean something. But as he looked at the stubborn set of Olivia’s delicate jaw he knew she needed more from him.
“Fine!” Alex said throwing his hands up. He paced the kitchen before sinking back into his chair at the table. Opening up wasn’t his strong suit, but for Olivia, he would try. “You want to know me? Well, here it is in a nutshell. I’m twenty-four, I’ve never left New York City because I didn’t have the means to. I lost my mother when I was thirteen but learned to take care of myself long before that. Art and music are the two things that turned my life around. I am an artist, but it’s hard to share my art without sharing my disorder.”
“Disorder?”
“I have synesthesia. My brain interprets color differently than yours. I see it in letters, numbers, faces, music. It’s beautiful and maddening all at once.”
Olivia stared at him with a worried expression before sinking down into the chair across from him. Alex was relieved that he didn’t detect the pity that so frequently followed his explanation of his disorder. Olivia remained silent and that made him uneasy.
“Satisfied?” he said harshly.
“No.”
Alex raised his eyes to meet Olivia’s. Her gaze was unwavering.
“No?” Alex questioned.
“I want to see your work.”
Alex laughed. “Why don’t you tell me why you’re really here and then we can talk more about my art.”
“What do you mean?” Olivia replied.
“You said you’re looking for something?” Alex retorted using air quotes. “Who leaves someone on their deathbed to go on a lost treasure hunt? What’s the real reason you’re here?”
Olivia’s nostrils flared. “Excuse me?” she said incredulously. “Who the hell are you to judge me?”
“I’m not judging you. I just don’t believe you.”
Her mouth fell open as she struggled to find words. But when she did, they cut deep.
“Well, at least we finally agree on something,” she hissed standing to lean over the table until she was close to Alex’s face. “I think you’re full of shit! I’ve never heard of synesthesia or an artist that won’t show his work. So why don’t you keep to your room and I’ll keep to mine until we can get out of this ridiculous mess and pretend this whole thing never happened.”
Stunned, Alex watched Olivia exit the room. He listened to her stomp her way up the stairs to the attic bedroom. When he heard her door slam shut, he let his head sink into his hands. That was not at all how he’d planned the rest of his day going.
Frankly, he was sorta hoping it would end with both of them in bed together.
But Alex was way too tired to deal with figuring out how to repair things right now. He got up, piled the dishes in the sink and slammed his own bedroom door before collapsing onto his bed to sleep—alone.
Alex slid his hand along Olivia’s velvet-soft skin. The feel of her against him made him hard at once. He let his hand roam slowly up her thigh and she sighed while grinding against his length. He had her practically begging as his fingers idly stroked lower and lower, slowly slipping beneath the band of her white lace panties. The ache building inside him was ravenous.
Fuck!
Alex awoke with a jolt.
Not again.
It was the third time he’d woken covered in sweat with a raging hard-on from a vivid sex dream about Olivia.
This was ridiculous!
All Alex wanted was some sleep. But apparently not even that was safe from Olivia. She was haunting this house with her pouty lips and perfect ass and now even his dreams weren’t secure. He didn’t know what the hell to do about the situation.
In the past Alex would just fuck the girl he wanted and move on. But that wasn’t an option with Olivia. She wasn’t the kind of girl you could just sleep with once and move on from. They hadn’t even kissed and already Alex felt his heart twisting with confusing desire. He felt sick. He’d never wanted a girl so badly.
Why?
Why the hell did Olivia Crain have to walk into his life right now?
Alex was just starting to get his shit together. The last thing he needed was a girl to come in and fuck it all up. Especially some unattainable head-case of a woman who was just as liable to slap him as kiss him. Her moods changed so fast Alex was likely to get whiplash if he tried to keep up. He needed to get Olivia out of his head. The roads would be fixed in a few days and then she’d be gone. He could ignore her until then—that is if he didn’t die from blue balls first.
Since it seemed sleep was useless, Alex grabbed his headphones, cranked his favorite rap and dressed to go for a run.
Chapter 21
Olivia
Olivia woke after a restless night of sleep. She’d spent the whole night tossing and turning. She didn’t get it. She should have slept like a baby. She was emotionally and physically exhausted after the past few days. So why the hell had she lay awake half the night?
Alex—that’s why.
Every time she closed her damn eyes her thoughts drifted back to him.
Alex, shirtless.
Alex, holding her hand.
Alex, making her grilled cheese.
It was infuriating. She couldn’t get his sexy smile and perfect body out of her head.
Why did he have to be impossibly handsome?
Olivia gave up on sleep and grumpily rolled out of bed. She looked in the mirror and groaned. The bags under her eyes were so large the airline would charge her extra fees. The thought made Olivia snort, because it was exactly something Gran would’ve said.
Would say!
Olivia reminded herself not to think of her grandmother in the past tense. She was still here, still fighting. And now it was Olivia’s turn to pull her weight. She stared at the cello resting lazily in the corner. It seemed to be sneering at her, full of doubt and disappointment.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she growled at the instrument. “I’m going to play you.”
She pulled the desk chair to the center of the room and turned it to face the window. She stifled a yawn as she stretched out her stiff limbs. Gripping the cello, Olivia sat in the creaky old chair and contemplated where to start. Her mind still felt foggy. This wouldn’t be so hard if she’d gotten a good night of sleep, she thought crossly.
Olivia yawned again and found herself bewildered that she’d actually slept better in the car on top of Alex than she did in the cozy attic bedroom.
Stupid, sexy Alex.
It was as though her traitorous body had gotten a taste and now nothing else would do. She felt like some sort of fledgling addict craving her next hit. Her skin was hot and her mind kept circling back to the moment she thought he was going to kiss her.
/>
She’d wanted him to.
She still wanted him to!
“Get a grip, Olivia!”
She was angry with herself for letting her guard down. Sure, being chased by a bear wasn’t your average day, but that didn’t mean she had to get all sappy and fall for the guy who’d saved her. She hated feeling like this—so self-conscious and pathetic. She hadn’t felt like this since . . . since that summer with Rhys.
Honestly, Olivia thought that part of her—the part that was naïve and vulnerable—had died along with her love for the cello. But if she could feel this kind of desire for a boy she barely knew, then maybe she’d find her passion for the cello again too. There was only one way to find out.
Olivia settled the cello against her and positioned the bow. Throwing herself into her music would be her best defense. It would keep her mind off of Alex until the roads opened. Plus if she was going to be stuck here, she owed it to Gran to at least try to find her way back to music.
She took a deep breath and peered out the window. The sky was still gray. The clouds hung low over the mountains promising more rain. A rain-drenched image of Alex popped into Olivia’s head.
Damn it!
When would it end?
If Olivia could just get out of this house she was positive she could forget all about Mr. Perfect Abs and go back to her normal life.
How was it possible for someone she’d just met to affect her so much?
It was absurd. She was better than this. She just needed to pretend he didn’t exist and channel her frustration into her music.
Hours later Olivia’s plan wasn’t working out too well. Her playing was improving but her skill was never the problem, it was that she couldn’t connect to the music anymore. After her mom died it was like a wall had come up around her and nothing could get through it. It didn’t help that the day her mother died was the day she found out her boyfriend had betrayed her in the worst way imaginable.
Olivia had just received her acceptance letter from Juilliard, so naturally, she wanted to share the news with the people closest to her. She’d been staying with Gran and Grand so they were the first to know. But then Olivia had called Rhys. He didn’t pick up so she’d left him an excited voice mail. Next Olivia had called her mother. She’d sounded breathless on the phone but that wasn’t so unusual. Her mother was always doing Pilates or some other new workout craze to keep her model’s figure. Olivia remembered their conversation perfectly.
“Mom! I did it! I got in!”
“To where?” her mother asked.
“To Juilliard! The letter just came!”
“Oh Liv, that’s wonderful. I’m so proud of you.”
“Is Dad still in the city? I want to come home and surprise him with the news. Maybe we can call uncle Jacob and all go out to celebrate?”
“Tonight?”
“Yes, Mom! Come on. How many times does your only child’s dream come true?”
“It’s just . . . I’m not in the city,” her mother said in a strange whispery voice.
“Oh. Where are you?”
“I’ve got another call, Liv. Let me talk to your father and I’ll call you back.”
“But I—” the line went dead. “. . . want to tell him myself,” Olivia said to no one.
The phone call had been strange. Normally Olivia’s mother lived for opportunities to get dressed up and celebrate things. That was pretty much her fulltime job since she was a model married to a rock star. Olivia should have known something was up, but she had other things on her mind, like her boyfriend Rhys Hudson.
Rhys had consumed Olivia’s attention that summer. And he was the reason she hadn’t gone back to New York with her parents to get ready for another year of touring. She’d begged and begged to stay at Carter Ridge so she could spend more time with Rhys. Olivia didn’t see any reason why she should give up her first boyfriend to be dragged around the country on a cramped tour bus. She homeschooled herself and could do the job just as well from Carter Ridge—better actually. Olivia’s mother had fought her on it, but her father hadn’t. As usual, he’d said, “I’m okay with whatever Liv wants to do.” So when Gran offered to let Olivia stay, she jumped at the chance.
Olivia had felt a possessiveness over Rhys. He’d been the first guy to ever want her instead of one of her more beautiful cousins. She remembered feeling obscenely jealous when she’d caught Bex and Rhys talking alone one night by the fire. Bex had always been the one the guys went for. But finally, Olivia found a guy who seemed to like her best. So when Bex tried to warn Olivia not to go too fast with Rhys, Olivia had done the opposite. She’d gone right out and had sex with Rhys to ensure that Bex wouldn’t steal him from her.
Of course now, Olivia could see how stupid she’d been. But hindsight is just that. And besides, her lovesick seventeen-year-old-self was blind to Rhys’s true nature. Nothing anyone could have said would have made Olivia see otherwise. She couldn’t see that Bex was trying to protect her. She couldn’t see that losing her virginity against a tree behind her grandparents’ house wasn’t romantic. She remembered locking herself in the bathroom after unceremoniously giving herself to Rhys. Bex had knocked on the door, but Olivia was too ashamed to let her in. She spent the rest of the night alone, crying as she picked splinters out of her bloody hands.
God, she’d been so young and stupid.
You’d think growing up on a tour bus would have given Olivia a leg up in the ways of the world. But too much exposure to things often makes you blind to them. And that’s exactly what happened to Olivia—she was immune to bad behavior. It was normal to her.
So how could she fault herself for not being able to see Rhys for who he really was?
Olivia had even caught Rhys making out with the wife of one of the musicians recording at Carter Ridge that summer. Of course, Rhys had easily convinced Olivia that the much older woman had seduced him. And he begged Olivia not to mention it because it was mortally embarrassing. Rhys said he only trusted Olivia with such a secret. He was always so clever with his words. Always saying little things like that to draw Olivia in and make her feel special so she would overlook what was right in front of her.
But who she found him with next . . . that was something she couldn’t overlook.
Olivia wiped at her eyes as the painful memories flooded back to her. She hadn’t thought about Rhys Hudson in a long time. She refused to let herself think of him because it hurt too much. And not because he’d broken her heart, but because Olivia would always wonder if he was the reason her mother was dead.
Had Olivia been Rhys’s mark from the start? Had he picked her because he knew she was weak? Or was it Olivia who had invited the monster into their lives and ruined everything?
Chapter 22
Alex
Alex made it a full day and a half without running into Olivia. When he wasn’t out running he was locked in his room, blasting music and painting. He was making great progress too. He’d knocked out three paintings in twenty-four hours—a new record. Getting Olivia completely out of his head was impossible, but he was channeling all of his sexual frustration into his work.
Today had started off pretty well. After an early morning run in the light rain and a hot shower, Alex padded into the kitchen to collect the day’s supply of food. He’d been bringing multiple meals into his room at a time so he wouldn’t risk running into Olivia in the kitchen. Though, if she was eating, he couldn’t find any evidence of it. It didn’t seem like any of his food was missing and the only proof he had that Olivia was still in the house was the whine of cello music that emanated from the attic.
Alex was busy stacking peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on a plate when guilt started licking at his resolve.
What if Olivia hasn’t eaten anything since they’d fought?
Maybe he should offer her a sandwich?
“Because that went so well last time,” he muttered to himself.
Clearly the way to Olivia’s heart was not through her st
omach. But still, Alex couldn’t just let her starve. He devised a plan to leave an extra sandwich on the counter with a note for her, but he couldn’t decide what to write.
I’m sorry?
Truce Sandwich?
XOXO, Alex?
I can’t stop thinking about tearing your clothes off and this sandwich is my lame attempt to get you to talk to me?
Everything he thought of sounded lame so he ditched the note idea and decided to be a man and deliver the damn sandwich himself. But when Alex got to the attic door he couldn’t bring himself to knock. Olivia was playing again and her music was so beautiful he found himself holding his breath, terrified even the slightest sound would make her stop. There was no way he wanted to do anything that would make the song end. Instead, he sat on the top step with his back against the wall and listened.
Alex closed his eyes and watched the colors her song evoked swirl around in his mind. He could see it perfectly—the waves of blues, crashing with white and yellow until they blended into smooth clouds for the bright golden notes to bleed across. It was the sweetest, saddest, truest sound he’d ever heard. It was like he’d died and found the notes Olivia was playing etched on his bones. The melody was peaceful and heartbreaking all at once and Alex felt something crack open within him, letting his own sorrow pour out—his mother’s blue lips, his father’s rage, the terrifying nights he’d spent on the streets. The memories came crashing back, threatening to pull Alex under in a tidal wave of regret.
What the hell was happening?
Alex never looked back. He couldn’t afford to. Moving forward was the only way he’d been able to survive. And that’s exactly what he needed to do now. He stood abruptly, set the plate on the landing and retreated to his room shoving his demons back into their cages.
He slammed the bedroom door and quickly blared his music to drive away the haunting sounds Olivia’s song had conjured in his mind.
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