Where the Stars Fall

9 | Thunder within

"FLYING BACK TOMORROW ALREADY?" I ask Olivia, trying to fill the heavy silence that weights the air as we head west towards Holland Park, to her uncle's. She's been mostly quiet, pensive, looking out the car window.

She hums in agreement.

I tighten my fingers around the wheel seeking to release the tension. Though my face gives nothing away, my head's a mess too.

"What time then?"

"In the afternoon," she murmurs so quietly, I can barely understand the words.

I turn on the radio, thinking to fill in the uncomfortable space between us with music. 'Only Love Can Hurt Like This' begins to pulse through the speakers.

Great, as if the mood in here weren't depressed enough.

I quickly change the station.

"No, leave it!" Olivia emerges from her thoughts, hovering her hand over the radio, trying to find the key to set it back.

I control the radio system directly from the steering wheel and do what she asks. She gives me a thin smile, which I half-heartedly return.

"Mind turning it up just a bit louder?" she asks, with her head leant back against the seat and her eyes closed.

"Sure. You like this one?"

It would be nice to get an answer for a change, but she doesn't say anything. Instead, she just hums the song, sometimes singing along.

I force myself to focus on the road, only on the road, but the truth is I'm losing it. It's sending me into a frenzy, the fact I'm running out of time and don't really know what to do next. I'm seriously thinking about pulling some crazy stunt, like... lose myself in the place where I've lived my entire life?

But isn't that the stupidest idea?

It certainly is, but I'm all strung out, barely able to get my emotions under control.

Damn it, I should just leave her at her uncle's once and for all and forget about it! When I see her again, maybe sometime around 2030, I'm certain I'll be over this sad episode.

I glance at her again. She's still singing with her eyes closed, on her face is the same enigmatic expression. And my mind starts reeling, imagining there's some sort of mutual electrifying tension, one that would make me slam hard on the brakes and pull over to the side. To kiss her.

Her temples, her eyelids, the cute freckled bridge of her nose. Her perfect mouth. Her neck, her shoulder.

The exposed shoulder that's been teasing me all day long.

I imagine my hands meandering down her body, her lips murmuring my name, asking me to take her home and–

Stop thinking about the 375 ways this could go badly and do something!

Without giving it any further thought, I do pull over.

"Olivia?" I stare intently into her eyes, trying to read the emotions behind them.

She looks confused but remains silent.

Then I take her hand in mine. "I'm still a good listener. So why don't you tell me about it? What's troubling you?"

Silence engulfs us again as she stares at me, her face undecipherable.

"What's troubling me?" She pulls her hand away. "I'll tell you what it is: it's my feet. They're swollen, these shoes are killing me, and I want my clogs back! Goddamn killer heels, they're driving me bloody mad!" She kicks them off, forcing out a chuckle I know is not sincere.

"Olivia, look at me." My tone takes a hard edge. I know her better than that.

Avoiding my gaze, she sags back into the seat and closes her eyes. "It's nothing, I'm just exhausted. It's been a long day and I can't wait to take a shower and crawl into a bed."

"Can I invite you for a quick drink? My flat's right here around the corner."

Her chest expands on a deep breath before she turns to face me. "I'm sorry, but I don't think that's a good idea," she says softly and the awareness she won't come, not in a million years, slowly settles in my churning gut.

I let the silence hang between us for a moment.

"It's not that I'm asking you to spend the weekend in Paris with me. It's just a drink. Who knows when we'll see each other again?"

She smiles, a small pained smile. "Well, maybe you should. Invite me to Paris."

I'd love that.

Indecision flickers across her face for a few beats, then she squints at her watch. She's pondering the possibility and I immediately feel a blast of adrenaline racing through my veins.

"Okay, but one drink only!" she agrees, holding her index finger up.

My thoughts begin to race back and forth in a wild rush, and I can't help imagining how it'd be if we didn't make it to my apartment. As soon as the lift doors slid shut, to hell with the wine, compliments and subtle flirting! I'd press the full length of her body with mine, I'd dive my hands into her hair, to hold her head steady as I kiss her hard and deep. I'd whisper into her mouth how desperate I've been the entire day to have her back in my arms. And I'd eagerly seek her breasts, I'd fondle them, I'd tease them. I'd have her up against the wall until she gasped for breath and moaned in surrender because I'd made her lose track of time and space and–

"BRIAN! Watch out!"

Reacting purely on instinct, I hit the brakes and only then look around. Shit, I've almost run a red light and headed on out into a junction in Kensington High Street.

"So sorry, you all right?" I ask, most certainly with a guilty expression on my face.

She nods, blowing out a breath of relief.

"Here we are," I announce a few beats later as I park in front of my apartment in Warwick Gardens.

I'm playing it cool, but the truth is, I'm overly anxious. In fact, I'm half scared and half desperate at the remote possibility of spending the night with her.

I rush to hold the car door open for her, but she doesn't wait and gets out first, barefoot, one hand holding the small handbag and sandals, the other grabbing the hem of her dress. Placing my hand on the small of her back, I guide her through the entrance door towards the lift, my eyes caressing her face when she gives me a soft smile.

No one would know, but my heart is stomping, kicking hard against my chest, such is the thrill of anticipation rushing through me.

**

xo, Ana