Crushing on my Billionaire Best Friend - Jolie Day Page 0,73

me with a chuckle.

“See, I told you, Elaine,” my dad chimed in. “This guy is always around to save you and grant you any wish. What kind of father wouldn’t want that for his daughter?”

I was suspended backward with his arms wrapped around my waist—just like we were gearing up for some kind of fairytale kiss. Just great. Like my dad needed even more encouragement.

“Thanks.” I laughed nervously and pulled myself up to my feet before straightening my clothes. I didn’t need the encouragement, either. I’d agreed to bring Oliver along to help put the other night behind us so I could let go of all my ridiculous fantasies about our future once and for all. I certainly didn’t bring him along to make things worse.

My dad gave us the happiest smile. “Well, let’s eat—shall we?”

22

Oliver

I tossed and turned in my damp sheets—unsure if the temperature of my room was rising with the sun beating in through the windows, or if it was just my sleep-deprived sex-thirsty state.

Probably the latter.

Definitely the latter.

It’d been a week now since Laney and I’d had sex, and I still hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. How pathetic. No woman to date had ever managed to work their way beneath my skin so deep. What the fuck was wrong with me? And more importantly, why the hell didn’t she crave any of it?

I reached for my phone on the nightstand, noting the time. It was afternoon on a Saturday, and I was stretched out in my bed—apparently avoiding the outside world because: pathetic loser. Every night when I tried to go to sleep, I was plagued by the same memories.

That one taste of her had left me wanting more, and nothing I did seemed to shake it. Maybe I stood a better chance at taking a nap, but that wasn’t proving to be any more of a success than the nights had been.

Accepting defeat, I rolled out of bed and hopped into the shower. I needed something to get me out of this fog. As I lathered my body under the streaming hot water, I scanned my brain for all my go-to distractions. Banging another chick? Not even an option. I could go to the rock-climbing gym or maybe take the bike out for a spin. Anything to get my adrenaline pumping and push these thoughts of her out of my brain.

Aside from the broken-film reel playing on repeat in my head, everything else had gone back to normal. The dinner at her dad’s house had worked as a sort of reset button for us. We’d had dinner a few times together in the evenings, and even had another movie night. Although she did sit as far away from me on the couch as possible, acting like I had the fucking plague. Even as she squirmed and flinched at the goriest parts of the movie, she resisted jumping into my arms for comfort. I supposed I could live with that as long as she was still talking to me and acting like my old friend. When I’d tried to talk to her about it, she’d insisted that we were just friends and stopped any further discussion. Fuck.

I got dressed and braced myself to walk out of my room. Not only had I never been so thrown by a woman, but I’d certainly never lived with a woman who’d put me in that state. Who also happened to be the very person I’d turn to for advice about this kind of situation. Every time I went through the living room or kitchen, it was like walking through a minefield. I never knew when I might see her dancing in the kitchen, watching TV on the couch, or reading a book by the window.

The only thing that jolted me more than running into her and having to pretend like everything was fine, was not seeing her and wondering where she was, or what she was doing. I wished I could just tell her the extent of how I felt without worrying it would ruin everything.

Turning the door handle, I stepped out, and was met with an empty and silent apartment. I checked for a note. Nothing. Just warm coffee and a few homemade, wrapped-up muffins. Sighing with disappointment and relief at the same time, I headed out the door.

I climbed into my Porsche and drove around aimlessly. After about twenty minutes, I found myself drifting to the same driving range I’d taken Laney to. Why