Chapter Four
Sleep eluded me. I tossed and turned, grunting and groaning in frustration while I loudly cursed myself as my mind raced, recalling the events at River’s home. More importantly, the simple gold ring that bore his name was dropped somewhere in the kitchen after he had kissed me.
“God that kiss … FUCK!” I screeched into the darkness, wondering if I would ever recover from it.
River knew how to touch me. Could any man ever compare to that? Even Parker’s didn’t come close, nor other men I had tried to date after River. No one had the ability to suspend me from reality, to live in that very moment, every waking breath felt. Each kiss, touch was a symphony of the senses. A masterpiece to be savored, treasured.
River made me feel alive, but he also could easily give me the kiss of death. My decision was unchanged, but I just wanted to remember … how it felt to be so spellbound, so electrified, wanton, and purely intrinsic.
He had a stunning body with an unmatched ability to make a woman melt into vapid oblivion with a mere touch. Although those were all incredible to note, I had to admit they palled in comparison to what truly drew me to him—his voice.
The raspy sound of his voice seemed to reach out to you, into your heart, gnawing at your soul. Each syllable was a balm to heal what was broken within, belting a song with his beloved string guitar on his thigh. I remembered waking up to his presence doing that, sated from our lovemaking while watching me sleep, back when he loved me just as much as I had loved him. Those days were long gone, but I still cherished them. I could comfort myself that at least I knew what it meant to love and to be loved.
Memories came crashing down like embers from hell, bright and blazing, but never permanent, vanishing into the abyss, leaving me a speck of soot, staining my soul, forever marking my heart.
Tears came next. I cried for what was lost and what might have been, for the past that had strangled me since birth. I wept, sobbing for feeling so alone. Loneliness was something I was accustomed to. I was akin to it. It had been my constant companion, but tonight … I wished it away, hoping it would leave me in peace for a time.
//
In my miserable half-asleep state, I heard a stifled ring echoing from my cell phone that was in my purse at a distance. I left it somewhere in the room, but I wasn’t quite sure where.
It’s probably on the floor, I tried to vaguely recall.
Unceremoniously, I slipped out of bed, donning only my lace thong as I squinted about the darkened room, scanning the black and white trellis patterned carpet. Alas, I found the shrilling thing sitting next to the door. The probability of me dropping it the second I got into my bedroom was likely.
Plucking my clutch, I brusquely yanked it open and took hold of my offending phone.
“Hello?” I grumbled at the intruder.
“Are you coming or not? We’ve been waiting for half an hour now. Where are you, Sprinkles?” Anton’s exasperated voice boomed in my ear.
“What time is it?” Scratching the side of my head, I retraced my steps and landed back on the bed, hoping I could catch a few more hours of peace and quiet.
“It’s two in the afternoon, sweet cheeks.”
Peace and quiet could wait. My friends had to come first.
“Damn. Sorry, I overslept.” If being in a half state could be acknowledged as such. “I’ll be there in fifteen. Save some food for me please, I beg you. I’m hella starving.” Cutting the call, I begrudgingly got out of bed for the last time and headed straight into the bathroom to wash up.
My blackout curtain did a fine job of not permitting any light coming through, but it made a mess of my body clock. Ever since I had it installed, getting anywhere on time was a challenge. Today was Netflix; how did I manage to forget that? It was a ritual for Anton and our other neighbor, Kells. Sundays were exclusively to lounge around, drink, and get fat in front of the television while watching a show the three of us agreed to. We were into Season Two ofThe Borgias.
Speaking of food, I barely got a chance to nibble on anything last night since my dress was the sort where if one ate one too many fries and it would combust. Therefore, I had begrudgingly nibbled on a low-fat mozzarella stick to stave off hunger, promising myself that, once the party was over, I could happily pig out on waffles and fried chicken.
Parker wouldn’t have appreciated that. The man was a health nut. And even though we had just begun dating, he had already lectured me of my high love and devotion for all things fatty and sugary. What human wouldn’t be enticed with chocolate? Parker, apparently, came from another planet. That was part of his charm, though. He was different from me. And while I lacked family, he had a huge one, mainly all working in the field of Orthodontics. That somewhat explained his disimpassioned hatred for sugary things. Unlike his family members, he pursued acting. The dark horse, as he nicely put it.
Back to my present predicament, my stomach was making a loud protest.Feed me, it demanded.
Dressed in a matching loose white tracksuit, I grabbed my phone and room keys before heading out the door barefoot, tiptoeing toward the elevator. Anton lived one level above me. His was a larger apartment with a much better view, which made it the perfect rendezvous spot for our lazy Sundays.
As expected, he had his apartment door already cracked open, an impatient yet gracious gesture as they waited my arrival.
“I’m here, I’m here!” I declared as I hurried into his place before securing the door behind me.
Anton gave me a sheepish look. “How was the party last night? I tried to come, but something came up. I’m super-duper proud of you, honey. You know that, don’t you?” He clearly needed to shave his beard, but he seemed not to care, closely resembling a cub.
Anton wasn’t one to socialize, so his excuse, or lack thereof, was already expected. As for Kells, she had worked late, so she couldn’t have made it. Her schedule deferred. If there was a music video, promotional event, or award shows, she was booked. She was a brilliant makeup artist. But even though she had a mad career, she was adamant about getting Sundays off. She said she needed it to recoup and reenergize.
Glancing toward the other girl across the room who was clearly too keen on her waffles and fried chicken, I reverted my gaze back to my scruffy cub of a friend. “I don’t want to be rude, but can we skip the talk for a minute? Um, where’s my food?”