All Good Things(6)

By: Alannah Carbonneau


I needed my damned life back.

I walked quickly across the room and closed myself in the adjoining bathroom. I was paying a large sum of money for the private suite, so I may as well use its facilities.

***

I moaned, as I shifted in the bed. Good God...how much had I drank last night? My entire body ached as though I had been beat with a baseball bat and my head throbbed. My muscles were stiff and I feared, for a moment, if I was to move, they might even creak like the wheels of a bike with no oil. Oh hell, who was I kidding? I couldn't move. This was the worst hangover I ever had. I couldn't even remember my night. The last thing I remembered was texting Trisha about two bottles of wine. I decided, right then and there, I was done with wine. I would never drink it again! Never ever! God, my head ached.

After a long moment of trying desperately to build up the courage to open my eyes, I did. My lashes felt as though they had been braided together by sleep. It took a few minutes to untangle them enough to open my eyes just enough to see the room was dimly lit. I thanked the heavens it was not too bright. Even still, the dim light that lit the room made my eyes burn with watery tears. I slammed my lids closed and tried to build the courage to try again. I just needed to get used to the light. And, I was never, ever, going to drink another drop of alcohol again for as long as I lived. I didn't think it was possible for a bottle of wine to make you feel as though you had been hit by a bus...but, I guess anything is possible. And who knows, maybe I drank more than just the one bottle. I mean, I couldn't remember my evening...so, I very well could have drank much more than I thought.

I peeled my eyes open again just in time to see the door across the room open. A man stepped into the room...or no...a God, stepped into the room. My eyes popped open and my mouth dropped. Holy moly! He was gorgeous. His black hair was wet and messy and his chest was bared. His naturally tan skin glistened from the residue of water and his muscles rippled with each movement. He ran a towel through his hair, roughly drying the locks as he lifted his eyes to meet mine.

Oh my....

His eyes were the most beautiful, hypnotic shade of blue I had ever seen. They were framed with thick, long, black lashes that made me want to sigh. And, they were focused intensely on me. He froze and his lips parted. An emotion that resembled relived shock passed over his God-like features as he stared at me. I stared back. I believe the correct word was ogled, but I didn't particularly want to admit that...even to myself.

"You're awake." His voice was smooth, like warm honey. It made my skin tingle and my toes curl.

Who was this man?

As my mind asked the question, I realized he was alone with me. We were in a room I didn't recognize and he had just stepped from the shower. Oh holey moly...did I sleep with him? Surely, I would remember something like that...with him! A blush crept into my face as I stared at him without the ability to look away. He held me captive with the intensity of his blue eyes. I had never been so...speechless.

"Olivia, are you all right?" The man moved quickly across the room and my eyes fell to his chest. His shoulders were broad and his arms were thick. I wondered what it would feel like to curl into his chest with his arms wrapped around me.

I shook the thought from my mind and my eyes dropped lower, trailing down his golden abs to his hips. Goodness gracious, he was just divine. Every sculptured curve of this mans body had been carved with exact precision. He was glorious. Magnificent. Seraphic. He was perfect.

I thanked the heavens he was wearing pants. The black slacks hung low on his sculpted hips and I stared at the line where the material hugged his skin. I wanted to trail the tip of my finger along the line of fabric that met with his skin and I thanked small mercies my body was simply too sore to follow through with its instinctual desire. If this man didn't step away from me, surely, I would humiliate myself without chance of redemption.

"How are you feeling?" He asked gruffly, as he leaned over the bed so he could look over my face with close inspection. Had I seriously been so drunk that I warranted his piercing concern? What was he doing? And who was he?

"I'm fine." I finally mustered.

He leaned over the bed and pressed a little button. My eyes followed his movement and that's when I saw it. There was an IV in my arm. I was in a hospital. A man I didn't recognize was with me and I couldn't remember anything. How old was I? Was I missing years of my life? Who was this man to me? I didn't know him...but he knew me. I had heard of things like this happening. I had heard of people waking up from a trauma and being unable to remember a thing about their lives. Was this man my husband? My heart rate spiked and the monitor that sat next to the bed began beeping irregularly.