Page 31 of Time To Live Again

Iflip over onto my back and stretch, then let my gloriously sore, exhausted body melt into the cloudlike mattress. I replay every amazing moment since I met Leo yesterday. How his mesmerizing honey gaze ignited a sultry heat that coursed through my veins the whole night. Pleasure pulses through my blood, making me ache between my legs.Nope, not going there.

Leo and I partied until we were almost the last ones to leave. As we strolled to my suite, we joked about Bethany and her antics to get Leo’s attention on the dance floor. Of course, my duties as his fake girlfriend ended as soon as we said goodbye and I closed the door. I could’ve asked him to stay, but my gut told me not to. Not because I had a bad feeling—the undeniable sexual tension was there and welcomed. But I want to take my time. I don’t want us to be a one-and-done type of thing. Leo is special.

The last thing I remember is Leo’s exuberance when he hugged and kissed me on the cheek goodbye. Yes, only the cheek. That moment was more intimate to me than the kiss at midnight. I think we both got something unexpected from meeting each other yesterday.

I think about what Tonya said.He’s holding back. Seriously, what would he be like in full force? As the entire conversation repeats in my head, I get emotional too. It breaks my heart knowing that he’s been through something that changed him so drastically.

Just like me.

We’re more alike than I thought. I’m only here for a week, though. He probably won’t tell me what happened.

I still can’t believe I met Samuel Moore. Before we left, Ellie and I exchanged phone numbers and as soon as I got back, I looked her up on Instagram. She’d already followed me. What alternate universe did I get thrown into?

Oh, shit. What kind of sister am I? It’s Andy’s birthday! I should’ve messaged him last night, but I fell asleep as soon as I got into bed. Hopefully Leo sent me the pictures like he said he would.

I throw off the comforter and shiver.Brr.It’s damn cold in here. I put on the fluffy white robe that came with the suite, turn up the heat, then head to the other room to get my phone. The red single-serve coffee machine near the sitting area catches my eye. Coffee before phone! While my favorite beverage brews, I enjoy the beautiful view outside.

Sunrays poke through heavy clouds. The lanterns in our tree sway gently in the breeze. Our tiny bench is visible in the daylight. I laugh.Our tree. Our bench.Different footpaths lead in various directions. I can’t wait to walk around and take pictures, maybe find Leo’s cottage.

I prepare my coffee, grab my phone, and return to bed. Stacking the pillows, I rest against them and get comfortable. After a few delicious sips of steaming rich coffee, I’m ready to deal with what’s on my phone.

I unlock it. WhatsApp shows forty-five messages—not bad. I expected more. Friends, old coworkers from the LA hospital, Mom, Andy, Uncle Bruce, and Leo. My stomach flips. Of course, I open Leo’s message first.

Leo: Thanks for a great time last night. Here are the pictures. Hope to see you soon.

Hope to see you soon?That’s a good sign, right?

I scroll through the photos. We look plastered in some of them, but we weren’t. Then I find the bathroom selfies he took. I zoom in and touch the screen, wishing he were here with me, cuddled up in my bed. He’s like sunshine on a rainy day.

Whoa, I have such a crush. It’s a foreign feeling and concept for me. If I looked in the mirror right now, I’d probably see hearts floating above my head. It’s kind of pathetic, but I grin and download the pictures for safekeeping.

Next, I open Andy’s messages. They include new year greetings, complaints about me not responding to him or Mom, and a three-minute accidental video of him moving around. I attach some pictures with Sam to a new message.

Me: Happy birthday and New Year! Yes, I’m alive, and check out who I partied with last night.

I send it, then watch eagerly for his reaction. My hand twitches when the phone rings. We agreed to only text this week, but I need to rub this in his face.

“Hello, this is Samuel Moore’s fan club. How can I help you?” I bite back a laugh.

“I call bullshit. There’s no fucking way that’s really him,” Andy challenges. “That has to be a look-alike or a life-size cardboard statue.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, brother, but he was in the flesh in front of me. I crashed his party. Kind of.”

“Crashed a party? This is my sister Olive, right?”

“Yes, and it was the best night ever!”

“Too loud. Hungover,” he moans.

“Sorry.” Not really. “If you made it back to my place, go to my medicine cabinet and take some painkillers and drink lots of water.”

“At Uncle Bruce’s.” He grunts. “There I was, stuck listening to Mom complaining about your escape and not hearing from you—and you were hanging out with our favorite soccer player!”

When I hear him describe his night like that, I feel a twinge of guilt. “Hey, you pushed me to meet new people. That’s exactly what happened. And I didn’t even have to try. I met a guy who works here and the rest is history.”

“Oh, ho,really? You work fast. What’s his name? Is he in any of the pictures?”

“His name is Leo. He’s the guy with golden-brown, curly hair. Half of it is up in a bun.”

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