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Then it turned into hours.
And before I knew it, I had read almost every article about Oliver.
Oliver Madden has crawled under my skin.
I either need to walk away now or accept I’m playing with fire.
Then, I remember his words again. The way his green eyes drank me in with such desire and, for just one moment, I imagined what his lips would taste like.
I wanted to send him a text or talk to him. Instead, I stand up and glance over at the room he’s staying in. There’s no movement.
With a huff, I head straight to my room for bed. No good will come of me stalking him from the window.
I just need to forget he’s living next door.
Easier said than done.
Nine
Oliver
The ceiling fan spins in endless circles, round and round, making it impossible to fall asleep amongst my strewed thoughts.
The bedsheets begin to irritate me, crawling against my skin in this godawful summer heat. I rip them off and toss them to the floor to remove the unwanted weight almost burying me alive.
Gabriella’s face spins around in my head—her voice and words, the way her lips part when she’s lost in thought, the arch of her brow when she’s retaliating to my careless words, and the bounce in her hair when she unknowingly laughs.
She isn’t like other women. She doesn’t throw herself on me like a pack of hungry wolves. Well, at least it wasn’t her intention on the first night. She made that very clear. And it’s possible her lack of sexual attraction to me is what’s causing my insomnia.
Face it—she’s the only woman not to want you, and it’s quietly killing you.
Feeling unwanted is unsettling. My pride is taking a major hit for the first time in my adult life.
My eyes drift into sleep. My mind endlessly dreaming about her beneath my touch, inside my bed, pinned down, legs spread, succumbing to my commands, and my tongue gliding against her supple skin, inching closer and closer to her sweet spot.
She begs for more, demanding I turn her around and take her on all fours.
Harder.
Harder.
Until she screams my name.
The sun peeks through the blinds, brutally waking me.
It was just a dream.
The ache inside my boxer shorts is all I can think about.
Ignore it. Just ignore it, or you’ll make it ten times worse.
Think about getting kicked in the nuts.
Granny undies.
Rabbits.
My body relaxes, the tension ridding itself as the images taunt me. Somewhere in this house, Bubbles is on alert, waiting for me to slip up. I’ll fall for his so-called charm, lean in, and tell him he’s a cute bunny rabbit until he lashes out marking his territory.
