Rescue Breathing (11 page)

I look up and then behind me. The doors of
the elevator are open wide and the man standing next to me is
looking at me expectantly.

"Oh gosh," I yelp, "he texted!" I hold up
my phone as if he knows who I'm referring to before giggling and
stepping off the elevator. Ha! He texted!

I
'm contemplating how to respond when my phone rings. I
jump, the sound jarring me from my thoughts. I look at the caller
ID and see that it's Charley.

“
Well, thanks for standing me up.” I scold,
trying to suppress my laughter.

“
God, Liv, you have no idea the night I
had—or I'm about to have,” she snickers
conspiratorially.

I raise an eyebrow. “Oh? Something
seductive happen while you were changing your tire? I thought you
swore off men?” I laugh.

She groans, “Oh my God, yes! The AAA guy
happened, and he is H-O-T HOT!” She makes an evil sound. “He's
coming back after dropping my car off at the repair shop. I am
getting laid tonight, my friend.”

I chuckle, although somewhere deep inside
I feel a twinge of jealousy or regret that I
'm not doing the same. “Well, as
surprising as it is that you've found yourself someone to spend the
night with just by blowing a tire, you'll never believe what
happened to me while I was waiting for you at the bar.”

“
Do tell, Miss Olivia…” she says slowly,
eagerly anticipating my story.

“
Owen—airplane guy. At the
bar. With his
buddies.”

“
Shut up!
” she yells into the phone loud enough and shrill
enough that I need to pull the phone from my ear.

I grimace.
“No I will not shut up. Swear to God.”

“
Please tell me you brought him to your
room, Liv. Please tell me that I am talking to you while he is
having his way with you.”

I sigh, “Sadly no.  His friends were
calling and he had to attend to the reason he was there in the
first place.” I unlock my hotel door and step into the dark room,
suddenly overwhelmed by a feeling of loneliness.

“
Olivia,” she argues, “he was there to
scope you out
in the first place
. Don't be fooled.”

I think about that for a second. Was he
honest when he said he was at the bar for the sole purpose to see
me? I mean, he had at least five or six of his friends with him.
That's a lot of organization just to scope me out. Nahhh. And then
there's Tits McGhee who had his attention…although he did seem to
look like he was eyeing an escape. He wouldn't have been doing that
if he had been there waiting for me. Would he? How would I
know?
I
don
't know anything
about this guy.

“
I don
't think so, Charley. It was just some guys hanging out at
a good bar. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“
Oh that's what you think, but he was
looking for you. I know it. And if you had played your cards right,
you would be moaning with him instead of arguing with me. Why oh
why, Olivia, can't you take a page from my book of sexcapades and
get yourself laid! No strings, just a straight-up booty
call.”

Charley, ever the optimist. “Ha ha ha,
you. Well, it's not a
totally
lost cause. He texted me saying he wanted to see me again
tonight. I'll see if he shows. He was with his friends and two hot
blondes with tits the size of cantaloupes. That's not exactly
something I can compete against.”

She makes an annoyed sound. “As usual,
Olivia, you don't give yourself enough credit. You've got great
tits.”

I make a sound indicating exaggerated mock
surprise.

“
Wait and see,” Charley continues. “I bet
he's in your bed by the end of the night. And if you know what's
good for you, you'll call and give me all the gory details in the
morning."

I assure her I'll do just that and we end
our call with the promise of a coffee date before I leave. I miss
being close to Charley geographically, but I'm grateful that we've
maintained our friendship and that she is always there for me. I
grab a single-serving bottle of white wine from the bar
refrigerator in the room.  I may be alone, but at least I can
keep my buzz going for a bit.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Owen

I watch Olivia leave the bar, and
I
'm pissed as hell. I'm
angry that she left. Furious that I didn't stop her from leaving.
And now I'm resentful that I need to hang out with my friends when
what I really want to do is put my lips all over Olivia.
 She's confident and sexy, funny and beautiful, engaging and
captivating. I was a fool for letting her walk away just now. I
just hope I haven't completely fucked things up with her. I take my
phone out of my front jeans pocket and send Olivia a
text.

I WILL call you later.

Wait for me to help you take that dress
off.

I slip my phone back into my pocket, grab my
beer, and walk back to my group of friends.

“
Every fucking time we hang out, you've got
some unbelievably hot woman on your arm. You're a lucky son of a
bitch, you know that?” Travis declares.

I nod and chuckle. It's true. I generally
can find the company of a beautiful woman wherever I go. I was
blessed with my dad's good looks and my mom's wit. Together,
they're a lethal combination for any woman I set my sights on. It's
just that, lately, I've been fed-up, bored of playing the game.
Uninspired with the constant rotation of women. Tired of not having
a connection with anyone. It's amazing how a mere twenty-four hours
can help bring into focus what I truly want. And what I really want
is Olivia.

“
So, was that her? The love connection from
the airplane?” Travis asks.

“
Now, let's not get crazy with the love
connection talk, but yes. That was Olivia.”

“
Olivia and Owen...Isn't that cute. Kinda
like Ken and Barbie.”

I roll my eyes dramatically.
“Yeah...
just
like that,
Travis.”

“
You deserve someone who makes you happy,
man. I think you've finally fucked Molly out of your system,” he
says, grabbing me by the shoulder, “and as fun as I can imagine
that is—” I start to protest, but Travis holds up his hand to stop
me. “Don't ruin my fantasy, Owen. Give me this.”

I can't help but laugh.

“
Like I was saying, as much fun as fucking
around is, you're not happy. Every time I talk to you, you're at
the firehouse. You pick up extra shifts to keep busy. If you're not
at the firehouse, you're at the gym. Molly was no good for you, O.
She had a goddamn doctorate in Bitchology.

“
Really, O. You need to focus,” Travis
continues, his speech starting to slur. “Find a good woman who can
suck your dick like a Hoover,” he says, now counting on his
fingers, “who excites you every goddamn day, can make a mean
chicken parmesan, is smart and loyal, and who wants you for you and
not what you can buy for her—like that bitch, Molly," he murmurs.
"Once you find her, marry her.” Travis sits back in his chair and
crosses his arms over his chest. The satisfied grin plastered on
his face looks like he's just solved the world hunger
crisis.

“
Wow. Okay there, Mr. Casanova. I know
you're super in love with Lucy, your rose-colored glasses are on,
and you're riding that high. I get that, but you can get off your
soap box. I appreciate your concern about my love life, but I think
all your beers have given you a bit of a God complex. Besides, you
know I'm not the marrying type. Scares the shit out of
me.”

“
What's so scary about someone wanting to
love you for the rest of your life?” Travis asks, suddenly serious
and focused. “You'll know it when it's right. You'll feel like
running and that you're suffocating,” Travis laughs, “but it's the
best thing in the world to be loved and to love someone else in
return. Shit. I must be drunk.
I sound like a goddamn Hallmark card.
”

I sigh heavily and finish off my beer. I
don't see that happening again. Ever. I've learned to not fall in
love. There's too much to lose.

The night wanes on and I grow increasingly
agitated. How I left things with Olivia is really bothering me.
Eventually the guys start to say their goodbyes and we finalize
plans for tomorrow. I look around the bar and see Marc in a corner
booth with Monica. Her hand is sliding up and down his thigh as he
whispers into her ear. At least I know he's taken care
of.

I walk Travis out to the front of the hotel
and settle him into a waiting cab with a bottle of water.

“
Thanks for a fun night, Owen,” Travis says
slowly. “You're a good friend, brother,” patting me a little too
hard on my cheek.

“
I love you too, man. I'll see you
tomorrow. Keep drinking that water.” I give the cab driver the
address of where to take Travis and close the door before pounding
the roof of the cab, signaling him to go.

As I take out my phone to text Lucy that
Travis is on his way to her place, I see that Olivia responded to
my text an hour ago.

I could use the help.
My zipper is
stuck.

I don
't think my grin could be wider as I read her message.
Maybe I didn't completely screw things up with her after all. I
want to see her again.

Tonight.

Now.

Although it's late, I dial her number.
Olivia answers on the second ring.

“
Hello?
”

“
What's your room number?”

"Um, who's this? Are you some crazy
stalker guy?" Olivia jokingly inquires on the other end of the
line. She enjoys teasing me, and I'm not going to
complain.

"It's me, the man of your dreams and
resident dress-zipper fixer."

Olivia sighs loudly, as if she's put out.
"Fine… Fine. I'm in 1121."

Without saying goodbye, I end the call and
jog back towards the bar inside the hotel. I purchase a perfectly
chilled bottle of L'Ecole Semillon wine and snag two wine glasses
from the bartender.

I quickly find my way up to the 11th floor
and gently knock on room 1121. I lean slightly against the
doorjamb, because one, I'm a little buzzed and could use the
support and two, let's face it, women love that smoldering
shit.

“
It's your stalker,” I call out, leaning my
head against the door.

As luck would have it, a couple steps off
the elevator just as I make the declaration that
I
'm a stalker...into a
closed door. Awkward. They eye me suspiciously, and the woman grabs
her male companion's arm a little tighter.

I nod my head and give them my most
sincere smile.
“I'm not
really a stalker. Just flirting…”

The skeptical couple says nothing as they
pass by on the way to their room.
Thankfully I hear Olivia undoing the locks and
cracking the door open.

“
I brought presents.” I smile, showing her
my offering of wine.

“
Are you trying to get me drunk, Owen?”
Olivia asks, smiling wide as she pulls open the door to welcome me
in.

“
No. I want you to be in your right mind
when I help you out of that dress, beautiful,” I reply,
straight-faced. I hear her sharp gasp of breath as she closes the
door behind me.

Olivia follows me into her suite and asks,
"So do you usually pick up women in airplanes, show up in their
hotel bars, and then stalk them in their hotel rooms?
Or am I just
special?"

“
You're very rare, that's for sure,” I say,
taking a seat on the edge of the bed. I give her my best innocent
smile, hoping my charm works on her. Olivia falls back against the
wall behind her with a light thud.

"I, um… I have a bottle opener on the
table there." She gestures with her hand. "I've already had some
wine..."

I stand from the bed and grab the bottle
opener from the table. As I quickly unwrap the foil from the bottle
and open it, I turn to see Olivia. She's still supporting the wall,
her eyes slightly glazed over as she scans my body from head to
toe. Her gaze finally settles on my ass.

“
See something you like, beautiful? You
have a look on your face like you could eat me.”

Olivia starts to blush and bites her
bottom lip, slightly embarrassed that she was caught looking. I
cannot help but smirk.

“
Look all you'd like, Olivia,” I murmur,
handing her a glass of wine. “There's much more I plan on showing
you.”

C
HAPTER TWELVE

Olivia

Oh God, he caught me staring.
Although, I've caught him
staring a few times myself. Fuck it.

"I, um, am wondering how good what you
brought will taste."

I know what I've said is provocative. It
was meant to be, and I smile a bit at how clever I am—drunk clever,
that is. I watch as he uncorks the bottle and pours us each a
glass. As he hands me mine, his finger brushes my hand. I swear he
could have been brushing my clitoris directly and it would have had
the same effect. It occurs to me that I'm still leaning against the
wall, so I stand and right myself before holding my glass out for a
toast.