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“Since graduation. I saw you in line, and this feeling came over me.”
God, it was like a fucking fairytale. He fell in love with me at first sight. I always thought it was so stupid when people talked about that kind of love, but he was proof it could happen. And I had to admit I wasn’t far behind when it came to loving him.
“Suppose I didn’t work in the same building as you? Would you have looked for me?” I asked.
"I had your name, and that’s all I needed," he declared, my voice edged with determination.
"So you would have stalked me?"
Oliver's eyebrows shot up in surprise.
"Of course not. I would’ve had Vlad do it," he replied casually as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
I narrowed my eyes. "That sounds creepy."
"Tell me you don’t feel the same," he challenged, daring me to deny the undeniable connection between us.
My gaze softened. "I don’t yet."
"I think you’re lying. I know when a woman is in love with me," he countered, his confidence unwavering.
"I thought you said you didn’t have girlfriends?" My tone was laced with skepticism.
"I don’t, but that doesn’t mean women don’t fall in love with me," he shrugged.
"That sounds pretty arrogant," I remarked, a smirk playing at the corners of my lips.
"It’s true. I can’t help if women fall in love with what they see in front of them. It’s not real because they don’t know me. You know me," he admitted, a flicker of vulnerability beneath his confident exterior.
"I do know you and love you," I confessed.
A smirk tugged at Oliver’s lips. "See, I knew it."
“Ass.”
I eased off him, feeling a twinge of reluctance as he rose to turn on the shower. The warm water cascaded over us once again, cleansing away the remnants of our passion. Side by side, we lathered and rinsed, the intimacy of the moment wrapping around us like a comforting embrace.
As we stepped out, Oliver took the towel, his touch gentle as he dried my body, each stroke igniting a trail of warmth. Returning to bed, we cocooned ourselves in the sheets just as dawn's soft light filtered through the window, painting the room in hues of gold.
Hours slipped by unnoticed as we slept, lost in the tranquility of each other's arms. When the sun reached its zenith, its rays streaming through the French doors with unrelenting intensity, I buried my face into the pillow, seeking refuge from its brightness.
A gentle kiss on my forehead stirred me from my drowsiness, and I turned to meet Oliver's gaze, his eyes soft with affection. At that moment, bathed in the warmth of the morning sun and the tenderness of his touch, I knew that this was where I belonged.
“I love you,” he murmured.
“I know,” I know, I mumbled.
Oliver snorted. “Now who’s being arrogant?”
I elbowed his ribs. “Hey, I said I loved you. Give me a break.”
“I said it first.”
“You win.”
I circled the tip of my tongue over his nipple and heard him suck in his breath.
“Don’t do that because right now I’m ready for round two.”
