Drawn to You: The Chasing Olivia Series Book One

1

Early Monday morning, I finish my last final a full hour early. I’m officially done, and found out I graduated top of my class. Teaming with pride, I head back to my dorm room to freshen up before heading over to Evan’s for lunch.

Texting my best friend Brenda the good news, I enter the dorm and walk up the stairs toward my room.

* Finished!!!*

She answers back immediately.

*BFF: About fucking time! *

* I won a fellowship award too! *

*BFF: Of course you did, you busted your ass.*

*I’ll call you later, going to meet Ev.*

Shoving my phone in my back pocket, I turn the last corner and reach my dorm. My keys are somewhere in my bottomless duffel bag, so I throw it on the floor and start the search. As I dig, a loud moan emanates from inside my room. I stop dead in my tracks and sigh. Turning on my heel with my keys in hand, I start to leave. I take two steps and hear Evan’s name.

I spin back around, hoping I misheard, and open the door a crack, just in case it’s another Evan. But it’s not. It’s my Evan. And they’re both naked on my bed—my bed!

Yes, Evan! Yes, she moans as he fucks her from behind, hard and fast. He has her bent over the edge of the bed so they don’t even know I’m in the room. For a split second, I think about running, but my feet are glued to the floor. I stand and watch in horror as the man I love has sex with my roommate. Oh my fucking god, escapes my lips in a screech. They both spin to see me standing behind them. Evan freezes mid-thrust. Oh crap, Liv, Evan mutters, though I’m not sure whether he’s talking to Brandi, my roommate, or me. My legs finally working again, I turn and flee.

Evan chases me out into the hallway with a blanket wrapped around his waist, yelling, Olivia, wait...I can explain.

I don’t want to hear it, I scream, spinning toward him. Tears begin to cloud my vision. There is no way to explain your way out of what I just saw. I’m shaking, my head reeling with visions I’ll never forget. Did I really just witness that?

He runs his hand through his dirty blonde hair, and begs, Please, let me explain.

We. Are. Through, I say, making sure he hears every word. Don’t call me, don’t come find me, it’s over, I sob, looking away from him. Wiping away the endless tears, I catch him taking a step toward me out of the corner of my eye. I back away, not wanting him anywhere near me.

My brain won’t comprehend what’s happening. I’m dizzy. I can’t see straight. I need some fresh air, so I turn and run—run straight out the front doors of my dorm and away from the horror I just witnessed. Evan calls after me, but I can’t go back. I won’t go back.

One Week Later

The Nicolet is full for this time of year. I‘m going over to Davis Park, Fire Island a week later than I normally do and this is what I get for waiting: a full ferry.

The beginning of summer brings hot and sticky temperatures and tourists from New York City and beyond flock to the island in droves. The top deck is overflowing along with the inside, so I stand by the back of the boat and stare out across the water.

I’ve been staying at the same beach house at Davis Park every summer for as far back as I can remember. My dad started bringing my mom and me here when I turned eight. He knew how much my mom loved the beach. My dad was a city cop and when he retired after twenty years, he had saved enough money and surprised us one summer by announcing we now owned what had been our rental. Being a detective, he was rarely home, but the beach was his quality time with us. I always looked forward to my summers at Davis.

This summer is different, though. I’m not here for the pleasure of listening to the tranquil sounds of the water, but to go into seclusion.

Evan and I had been together for what felt like a lifetime, but I feel nothing. I must be numb or still in shock. It’s one thing to find out your boyfriend cheated on you, but it’s quite another to witness it firsthand. I was so young and naïve believing he was my happily ever after. I need to get away. Away from him. From his friends. From my friends. From everyone. I need time to be alone and wallow in self-pity. So now, I’m alone on a crowded ferry, running from the man I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with.

Before I am aware we’re here, the boat pulls into the slip and everyone exits. I shuffle my belongings down the gangplank and head down the boardwalk to my summer haven.

It’s a typical early summer weekend, when all the urbanites from Manhattan come to the island in hordes, each ferry bringing families to their paradise on the beach. The only way to get to the barrier island is by ferry or private boat, so it doesn’t get overcrowded like Robert Moses or Jones Beach nearby. There are several boardwalks stemming from one main boardwalk, which goes directly to the ferry.

I make my way down Trustees Walk and turn right on to Center Walk. This old wooden boardwalk splits the island in half. To the right is the bay, to the left the ocean. My cottage is on the ocean side.

The cottage is small compared to some of the other beach houses, but it has two stories of spectacular ocean views. The island is only a thousand feet wide including the beach, so the houses are very close together. If I wanted to, I could probably look across at my neighbor’s deck and read their newspaper from here.

I drop my bags in the middle of the living room and take a quick look around. Everything is exactly as I left it last year. Making my way into the kitchen, I pick up my favorite wine glass, the one with flip flops painted on it, and pour myself a glass of white wine. As I put the bottle down, I read the label. This is the 2008 Didier Dagueneau Silex Sauvignon Blanc Evan brought back from the Loire Valley after his trip to France. Even in my sanctuary, I can’t get away from Evan.

I’m relaxing on my back deck, watching the waves reflecting the setting sun, when I hear my new neighbors coming down the boardwalk. They’re singing some tune I’ve never heard of off-key and slurring the words. I walk through the sliding glass doors off the deck to the front window to see what’s going on.

Nate, what’s taking so long? a blonde shouts from the entrance to the house.

Did you remember to take the champagne off the boat? another girl asks.

No, I’ll get it later, a male voice answers.

But I want it now! the blonde says, almost falling over the railing. The guy grabs her arm, steadying her.

The two couples stumble into the house, leaving a lone man standing on the boardwalk. He turns and my jaw drops. His dark tousled hair falls across his forehead as he bends to lift the bags his friends left on the boardwalk. His strong, chiseled jaw clenches as he shakes his head…and that mouth. My heartbeat quickens and I catch myself holding my breath. The things I could do with that mouth—wait, what? I dart behind the window, ashamed at myself for staring. He finishes picking up the debris from the drunken tornado that just touched down and goes into the house.

I lean against the wall and let out the breath I’d been holding. What the hell was that? Luckily, he didn’t see me sizing him up with my eyes. I came here to mourn the death of my relationship, not drool over some Miracle Mile rich kid. The butterflies are still hovering in my stomach, trying to fly out of my mouth. He is just so…oh, wow. Maybe this is really good wine. I shake my head, trying to rid my wayward thoughts, and go back out on to the deck to finish my two-hundred and forty dollar bottle of wine.

The next morning, I head down to the beach, choosing a near-empty area farther from the boardwalk. I settle into my chair to listen to Zac Brown sing about where boats leave from when my cell phone rings. I take a deep breath and blow it out before checking the caller ID, not in the mood to talk to anyone. My best friend’s name lights the screen. We’ve been friends since the fourth grade and I called her in a panic right after I caught Evan with his pants down, but I’ve been avoiding her recent calls and haven’t spoken to her since. I sigh and answer the phone.

Hi, Bren, I greet, and instinctively move the phone away from my ear since I know what’s coming next.

Where the fuck have you been? she screams. I have been texting and leaving messages all over. She pauses a minute. Liv, are you okay? she asks, concern etched in her voice. I have dreaded this question because I don’t know the answer.

I’m fine.

Why haven’t you taken any of my calls? I’ve been worried.

I haven’t been in a talkative mood, I mutter.

You shouldn’t be alone, you need to talk. Please, let me come out and spend a few weeks with you, she pleads.

I sigh, even though I have thought about having her here with me. Brenda has always been my rock. When my father was diagnosed with stage four pancreatic cancer our senior year of high school and died right before we graduated, she wouldn’t leave my side that whole summer. I have no siblings, so she’s the sister I never had.

Okay, maybe you’re right. I could use a drinking partner.

Good, ‘cause I’m on the ferry. I’ll be there in ten minutes.

Of course you are, I reply with as much sarcasm as I can muster. I’m at the end of Pepperidge Walk. Put your bags in the house and meet me on the beach. I sigh.

Liv, you know I love you, right?

I love you too, Bren. Just hurry up. I need to catch some rays.

Like clockwork, she appears from the end of the walk and comes running down the beach. I stand up to greet her and she gives me a crushing hug.

Bren, you’re killing me, I squeak out, barely able to breathe.

Sorry, she murmurs. I missed you.

I missed you, too.

You look like you’ve lost weight.

Maybe a few pounds, I confess. I’ve been on a liquid diet.

You need to eat, she scolds. We’ll go over to The Casino tonight for dinner.

Okay. That’s a good idea since I haven’t been over to the general store yet. There isn’t any food in the house. At least, nothing resembling food.

Olivia! she scolds. It’s a good thing I’m here. I don’t want you withering away to nothing, she says under her breath.

Can I please get back to my tanning? I whine. We’re wasting good sunlight.

Fine, but this discussion is not over.

I sit back down, put in my ear buds, and drift off to sleep to Zac Brown warbling on about his ass in the sand.

Back at the house, we each take a quick shower. I don’t bother to do my hair; I’m at the beach, after all. The tousled look is normal here, and my curly blonde hair is that and then some. It’s long, about halfway down my back, but I can never get the curls under control. It’s not like I have anyone to impress anyway. The humidity is not helping my cause, so I decide the au natural look is not the way to go and put it in a ponytail. Brenda, on the other hand, has the blow dryer, flat iron, and any other hair accessory you can think of scattered in front of her on the bathroom vanity.

Brenda, are you going to straighten your hair? The humidity will fluff it out like you stuck your finger in a light socket. I giggle. She has shoulder-length, wavy, chestnut brown hair that looks good no matter what she does to it.

Ha-ha, funny. Give me ten minutes and I’ll be finished.

I go into the living room and hear my new neighbors partying next door through the walls, not that these walls are all that thick. I walk out onto the back deck to get a glimpse of the commotion. It sounds like thirty people out back, but it’s just the five of them. They’re dancing to a beat I’m unfamiliar with, beers in hand. This is not a good start to my vacation. I head back inside to the kitchen and reach into the fridge to grab an Amstel Light.

Brenda is behind me and looks into the refrigerator just as I’m closing it. Jeez, you weren’t kidding. There’s nothing in there but beer and wine.

There are lemons and limes for the Ketel One, I inform under my breath. I turn and she has her perfect brows arched, a stern look on her face. I guess she heard me.

That’s not what I meant and you know it. First thing tomorrow, we’re going to the general store and getting some nutritious food, not just garnishes. She’s reprimanding me and I stand there with my head down like a wayward child.

Fine, can we go now, please? I groan.

I’m waiting on you, she quips as she waves one arm toward the door.

2

The Casino is the only bar on the island and sits high up on the beach so you can see everything. Located inside a large shack, there are two entrances—one to the bar area, and the other to the adjoining restaurant.

We step up to the large window bar off the deck and grab menus. On the right is a small alcove with a grill and fryer. Since the actual restaurant is on the other side, they only serve burgers and chicken fingers at the bar.

Nothing low calorie on this side, huh? Brenda mumbles.

Nope, but it’s better than bar garnishes, I say with a smirk. She shoots me a dirty look, which makes me smile even broader.

I’ll bring your food out to you once it’s finished, the girl behind the counter says after we place our orders.

Great, thanks. We’ll be inside.

It’s Friday afternoon at the start of happy hour and the place is deserted. It’s still pretty early in the season, but I expect it to get busy later on. Anyone still on the beach below is rushing to get to the four o’clock ferry, since most of them have been baking in the sun since late morning. We take a seat toward the back of the half-moon bar by the windows.

Hey, Liv, the usual? Mac, the bartender, smiles, like he always does. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him in a bad mood and he’s been working here for as long as I can remember.

Sure, Mac, you remember Brenda? I ask.

How could I forget that beautiful face? He’s on a roll today.

Hi, Mac. She blushes, smiling back at him.

Where’s Evan? He’s usually here by now, Mac says, turning his attention back to me.

Here we go. I knew there would be questions about Evan’s whereabouts. He’s been coming to Davis with me for the past six years. I’m just not sure I’m up to explaining.

We broke up, I say, looking over the bar toward the ocean.

Oh, sorry. Too bad. You guys were a cute couple. I take in a sharp breath, trying to hold in the sob threatening to spill out.

Seeing my reaction, he realizes that wasn’t what I wanted to hear. But, he continues, that’s good news for us single guys, you being back on the market.

I look up at Mac, giving him a weak smile. Thanks, but you don’t have to try to make me feel better. I’m okay.

I wasn’t trying to, he says, his voice soft. You are the nicest, most honest, and by far, the finest thing on this island. If he was stupid enough to lose you, then he didn’t deserve you in the first place.

Mac always knows the right thing to say. I think it’s bartending 101, but I know he means every word. My eyes start to well up, so I turn away again. I have to pee, I say, and hurry to the bathroom, not wanting him to see me cry.

Liv, don’t sweat it, Brenda says, following me into the restroom. Mac’s right. We’ll find you someone new—someone better than that piece of shit.

Brenda and Evan never hit it off. He was very possessive—a trait I found endearing at first—but once we were dating for a few months, Evan wanted to know every move I made. Sometimes he wouldn’t allow me to go out at all, and never with Brenda. She was too promiscuous for him. I think he thought I might cheat on him. Ha, me cheat on him.

He said he was protecting me, but Brenda knew better. She used to call me a Stepford Wife. Evan was my first serious boyfriend, so I didn’t know any better. Any time we were out and she came with us, they would argue and fight. After a while, I kept them as far away from each other as I could manage.

I don’t want anyone new. I want to relax, sit in the sun, and do nothing. I want to crawl under a rock and die. This is why I wanted to be by myself. I didn’t want to face the reality of no longer being with Evan. Not that I’m in denial, but I can control my anxiety at my own pace. Now, I have to deal with it in public, and sooner than I’m ready for. I look into the clouded mirror above the sink and fuss with my hair, but there’s nothing to fix, it‘s all on top of my head in a big pouf. I look close at my puffy green eyes. I have bags under them, which makes them darker than normal.

Bren comes up behind me, giving me a comforting hug. I’ll be at the bar when you’re ready to come back out. She smiles into the mirror, but it’s fake. I give her a tight-lipped smile of my own.

Okay, I’ll be out in a minute. I stand there, take a deep breath, and try to get myself together.

I make my way back, spotting our food and my Amstel nestled in a bucket of ice. Brenda isn’t a beer drinker. Her drink of choice is a Ketel One martini, dry, with lots of olives. I need to pick up olives at the general store if she’s going to be here for the next few weeks. Wait. Bren, how did you get so much time off work? I ask as I pick at my chicken fingers.

I had some vacation time coming and I told Anthony what was going on. He gave me an extra week. We’re slow in the summer anyway. I’ve known Anthony DiBenedetto for ten years or so. He’s like the big brother I never had, but he was also my boss before I went away to college. He owns a restaurant named after himself back on the mainland. I started out as a hostess and made my way from waitress to bartender. I would work during holiday breaks, but I always took the summer off. He had plenty of kids back from college to fill in the gaps. Brenda made her way up the ladder in the same way, but she didn’t go away to college and now manages the place.

I should have known, I mutter, displeased.

I didn’t give him any details, just said you needed me. Her voice is weak and apologetic.

It’s okay, I’m glad you’re here. I give her a crooked smile and her stiff posture loosens. She gives me a beaming smile, knowing she’s won this battle.

After that display of weakness on my part, Mac stays pretty much to the other side of the bar, helping the natives who are staggering in. By the time I’m on my fourth beer, the bar starts picking up. I feel my unease start to sink in further, not wanting to spend all evening explaining where Evan is to people who have known us and seen us together for years.

I swallow back the rest of my beer and turn toward Brenda to tell her to wrap it up when the blue-eyed Adonis in a white polo shirt and a pair of designer khaki shorts walks in. My heart skips a