Chapter 13

“I’d like to refer you to a specialist in Colorado.”

Dr. Wheeler slides over a piece of paper with some contact details.

“He’s an old college friend of mine, but I can speak to him privately and organize for you to see him as soon as you can get there.”

It isn’t the news I was hoping for. As I sit here, squirming in this uncomfortable chair and listening to Dr. Wheeler, I try my best to ignore the nagging voice inside my head telling me the fight is over.

I’m na?ve to think my scans would come back positive, and straight off the bat, he would tell me I could play again.

It takes me a moment to process and accept another roadblock in the journey of finding my way back to playing soccer. With my posture fallen and mood souring by the minute, I leave Dr. Wheeler’s office to pull out my phone, needing to hear her voice at this very moment.

“Olly?”

“Hey, Ma.”

I miss her so much, more than I care to admit. Being here feels so far away from home, and the sound of her voice reminds me of that.

“Is everything okay?” she asks, worried. “It’s… oh, wait a minute, your day, our night.”

“Just wanted to check in. How are things back home?”

“Pa just installed a new aviary out back, which means he spends all his time trying to find exotic birds online. Can you remind me why I married such a man?”

I can’t help but smile. Pa is quirky that way and no doubt depleting their retirement fund on some bird from Africa that could repeat the alphabet as well as hum to classical music.

“And you, Ma?”

“I’m missing you, kid. That’s for sure.”

“Miss you, too, Ma.” I let out a sigh and proceed to tell her about the appointment.

My parents have been by my side every step of the way. Ever since I could remember, they supported my desire to play soccer. When I was twelve, I tried out for an elite sports school in Sydney. I received a partial scholarship, and in just a few weeks, Pa sold our country home and moved our entire family to Sydney.

They drove me to games and spent copious amounts of money on holiday programs to develop my skills. They were, and always have been, my biggest supporters.

“You’ve never been one to give up, Olly. So, you’ve hit a roadblock, that’s why detours were invented. Book your flight, get your butt up to Colorado, and if you need us, you know we’ll fly up in a heartbeat.”

“I know, Ma. Thanks for the chat. I better go. Love you.”

“Love you, too, my son.”

I hang up the phone feeling extra homesick. My parents were never too far away, and even my annoying sisters were usually chasing my tail. But being here, thousands of miles from a place I’ve always called home, is enough to throw me into a major funk.

Over the next few hours, I bum around town, walking aimlessly around Sunset Boulevard before making the annoying drive through peak-hour traffic back home.

I told Seb not to expect me home—a late invite to some party in the Hills held by an old school friend who married a rich yank and moved here a few years back.

But I wasn’t in the mood, so I opted to go home instead.

Stuck in a sea of red lights, bumper to bumper, I instantly regret leaving so late. The traffic in Los Angeles is beyond a joke—so many lanes, back-to-back cars, all desperate to get somewhere in a hurry.

It’s just after six when I pull into the driveway. I turn off the Jeep and sit quietly as I close my eyes to gather my thoughts. I have to adjust my mindset. I need to focus on my next step and not the hindrance. The more I try to talk myself out of this slump, the more I fail miserably.

I need a distraction, a big one at that.

Damn! I should have gone to that party, or maybe I could convince Seb to head out for a beer tonight.

Fuck! Lizzie’s babysitting.

I don’t mind Lizzie—she’s a cool chick and very similar to my sister, Rory, in a lot of ways. She keeps to herself, never says too much, and allows her goofy brother to always steal the spotlight in the room.

As I enter the house, I walk through the hall, stopping just shy of the living room to see Gabriella sitting on the floor with Ace. I haven’t thought about her since this morning and our discussion about her confused feelings. She doesn’t seem to notice me, and with a burning curiosity, I hide behind the pillar, watching her play by singing some song to Ace, making him giggle.

Soft wisps of copper hair sweep past her ears, caressing the skin of her neck and falling against her shoulders. Gabriella’s face radiates in delight. Her eyes dance as she smiles, watching Ace sing along with his cute babble.

I catch her attention, and she waves with a shy, “Hey.”

“Hey,” I respond, trying my best to ignore how she’s slowly begun to tear up the walls inside me. “No Lizzie?”

“She’s sick. Sebastian and Lana went out for their anniversary date. You know, adult time? Hence, why I’m designated babysitter for the night.” She ends with a slight chuckle, trailing off until silence falls between us, and the only noise is the annoying sound of Paw Patrol in the background. Yes, I learned what Paw Patrol was after spending numerous mornings with Ace. I may even have the opening credits remembered by heart, not that I care to admit that to her.

I wasn’t expecting her to be here.

Here, inside the house, alone.

“You’re staying here tonight?”

She answers with a nod. “Well, yeah. Ace can’t exactly stay by himself.”

Fuck. I’m screwed.

I don’t say another word, heading back to my room and throwing myself on my bed. I’m beyond exhausted—mentally, physically, and emotionally. The thought of being in the same house as Gabriella does nothing to cure my need to be inside her. My emotions bounce back and forth between today’s letdown and this thing between us which has become a struggle to control.

I need to get out of here.

Blow off steam.

Get her off my mind.

Get everything off my mind so I can fucking think straight once and for all.

An hour later, dressed in a pair of jeans and a white buttoned shirt, I grab my wallet and head out of my room.

She’s in the kitchen preparing a bottle and holding Ace in her other arm. He’s resisting, as usual, shaking his head and saying, “No bed.”

Our eyes meet. Her gaze shifting down toward my feet then back up again.

“I’m heading out.”

“Oh, okay,” she mumbles. Her smile slips, and an almost hurt expression appears as she shakes the bottle in her hand. “Have fun.”

“I always do.”

I can see the pain in her eyes, and immediately, I feel like a fucking arrogant arsehole for saying it. I need to rid myself of her. I mean, what’s the goddamn point if she’s going to keep me dangling on a string all because of Prince Charming.

We are two very different people, raised completely opposite. The only thing we have in common is this place is Manhattan Beach. So what if she makes me laugh? So what if she challenges me more than any other woman has? This isn’t the time to start a relationship, let alone with someone who can’t figure out who the hell she wants.

Without a plan or buddy to hang out with, I make my lonesome way toward the pub we hung out at when we first met. For the first hour, I sit at the bar, drowning my sorrows in a pint while watching a rerun of some baseball game.

“It’s more fun to drink when you have company,” a silky voice beside me says.

I turn around to see an attractive woman standing beside me, playing with her martini glass as her lips scrap against the glass. She’s in a tight white dress, leaving not much to the imagination. I could nail this one easily, a quick bend over and take her in the arse.

Except then you would be thinking about someone else’s arse.

“Sure, take a seat. You like baseball?”

“Why not? If you like it.”

Great, this will be way too easy. As the game plays on, she talks. I half listen to boring, mundane topics revolving around her beauty salon and pet cat.

Time passes, more nodding on my behalf until she grabs my phone and places her number in my speed dial.

Destiny.

How ironic.

“Listen, I have to catch my ride home, but my roommate won’t be home tonight, so if you get lonely, call me.” She leans in, placing a kiss on my cheek, then struts out of the pub like a goddamn catwalk model.

Fuck, my dick didn’t even stir with her loose offer to join her at her place.

I’m cursed, fucking cursed.

The more I sit here, limp dick and tipsy on beer, the more I yearn to go home. I hate the fact that I want to see Gabriella. More so, I hate the fact that I want to tell her how I fucking feel.

The walk back in the fresh night air sobered me up enough that keeping my mouth shut and opinion to myself will be the reasonable thing to do.

The house is dark when I enter, only the faint glow of the television is on in the living room, and Gabriella is lying across it watching some movie.

As soon as she hears me, she peeks up, but there’s no smile. No ‘hello, how was your night?’ I know she’s angry at me. I would be too for acting like an arrogant idiot.

I sit on the edge of the sofa as she pulls herself up. Her hair is a wild mess and propped to the side in casual disarray. Throwing my phone on the coffee table, I watch in silence until a sex scene comes on the screen. Oh, for fuck’s sake.

“Great movie choice,” I say, squirming.

“In my defense, I haven’t seen it, so I was unaware that it contained a scene like this,” she almost chokes. “How was your night?”

“Yeah, good. Yours?”

“Exhausting. I finally got him bathed, fed, and asleep. I’m scared to move in case he hears me.”

“Nah, he’s a good sleeper. He doesn’t hear his parents going at it, so I think it’s all good.”

“Oh no, please don’t tell me you hear Sebastian and Lana?”

I nod, pursing my lips because the fucker doesn’t understand the meaning of keeping his voice low no matter how many times Lana warns him.

“I tend to sleep with noise-canceling headphones now, oblivious to anything that may be happening.”

The couple on the screen go at it really hard. The guy has her on all fours, pounding her like a jackhammer as she moans in delight. All I can think about is Gabriella next to me and the fact my dick is as hard as a rock. It’s fucking painful.

She drops the remote on the floor, and as she leans down to pick it up, my phone lights up on the table. She hands it to me, her eyes scanning over the screen.

“Destiny says she’s waiting for you…” She pauses. “Oh, and look, a vagina.”

I grab the phone off her.

Fuck, she wasn’t lying.

The pink pound of flesh is an eyesore on the screen.

“Must have been a really good night,” she rattles off, grabbing the remote and changing channels with an angry press of each button.

“It’s not what you think.”

“I think there’s a vagina on your screen.”

“Please stop saying vagina, and would you listen to me for just a moment?”

Gabriella releases a puff of air, turning to face me with her arms crossed. “What could you possibly say that could?—”

I lean forward, smashing my lips onto hers. She doesn’t push me away, innocently allowing me to taste her at this moment and teasing my tongue with a hot, fiery, passionate, and demanding thrust. I want to pull away before I lose myself, but I can’t seem to. My senses have been seduced, and I can no longer think straight.

She tastes like fucking heaven, and my mind conjures my dick sliding between her beautiful lips, her beneath my waist tasting every inch of me and watching her eyes desperate to consume me.

She would look so fucking perfect.

“Gabriella,” I whisper slowly, prolonging each letter as we come up for air.

Our noses rest against each other. We both are heaving for breath, and it’s echoing in the space between us.

She presses her hand on my chest, allowing it to rest against my beating heart.

“Oliver,” she whispers out of breath. “I just need?—”

“Time,” I speak for her, irritated that we are once again having this conversation. “You can ask for all the time in the world, Gabriella, but one day you’ll realize that time has run out.”

I stand, creating a distance between us, knowing the hardest thing to do is to walk away from her.

But I have no choice.

I’m not born to come in second-best.

In the confinement of my room, I leave all my clothes on and fall onto my bed. Staring up at the dark ceiling, my careless mind wanders back to our kiss. She wanted it just as much as I did, yet something she refuses to acknowledge holds her back from being with me.

And tonight, the true test begins—outside my room lays a woman I so desperately want.

A woman who consumes me at a time in my life when I have been falling apart.

A woman, who I hate to admit, I may even be falling in love with.