I heard that people drowned their sorrows with music and wine.

Since I was now officially miserable, I thought I'd try it.

I ordered up a bottle of red wine and turned on some moody instrumental playlist on the sound system as I soaked briefly in the tub. Once clad in nothing more but my silk slip, my hair flowing down my back and my feet bare, I curled up on the cushioned bench by the floor-to-ceiling glass wall of my suite and slowly sipped the rest of my wine.

I watched as the Strip came to life, the sharp fluorescent signs glowing in bold invitation to the partakers of excess that prowled the streets for their next haunt.

It was bright and noisy and busy—and it made me feel all the more alone.

I sighed and set the empty wine glass down on the floor, resting my chin on my raised knee.

I sucked at nursing a broken heart as much as I sucked at falling in love.

For all that the world envied me for, I had no talent at the one thing that truly mattered.

Tonight, I lost Oliver. And probably for good because I didn't know how we could ever go back from this. I couldn't imagine spending the rest of my life slowly bleeding away as I settled for his friendship when I wanted so much more than that.

I would have to give him up—or die a pathetic death clinging on to my decade-long delusion that Oliver must feel the same way I did.

No. The world was wrong.

Vivienne Cartwright didn't alway get everything she wanted.

The one thing that meant the world to her was the very thing she couldn't have.

Finally feeling sorry for yourself. Took you long enough.

An insistent rapping on the door finally caught my attention.

I stared at it, doing nothing, until I heard Oliver's voice from behind it.

I chastised myself for the hope that leapt from the pit of my stomach.

Of course, he was going to show up. He was going to apologize and try to fix it. Like he did when my cat Hester died when I was fourteen and he brought me a bunny. I knew what he was trying to do but I told him to return it or find it a better home because I didn't need a substitute for Hester. He looked torn, about to pull his hair out because he probably thought he couldn't fix whatever was broken in me. I'd held his hand and told him it was alright. That I was alright.

I couldn't do that with him tonight. Not when I could barely hold myself up together. I didn't want him to put the pieces back and keep them in place with Band-aids.

I waited, hoping he would go away. But when his voice rose to a bellow, I groaned and dragged my feet to the door, emptying myself of emotions along the way.

"What is it?" I demanded as I yanked the door open.

His entire body was rigid as he stood there, his face strained with a certain desperation I hadn't seen before. My stupid heart clenched at the instinct to touch him and pull him into an embrace, to take away whatever was unraveling inside of him.

"We need to talk," he started slowly, his gaze lowering to the thin silk that barely covered me. His eyes brightened at the slow perusal and I felt my traitorous body responding. Well, let him suffer a little, too.

"You changed."

I scoffed. "Yes, well. The dress didn't do its job of seducing you so I tossed it."

I could see him practically gnashing his teeth. "I think it's safe to say that the dress far surpassed any expectation of seducing men. The entire male population in that bar was sporting a hard-on."

I snorted and glanced down at his crotch area. "Hard to put that theory to the test now. You seem to prefer my sleepwear."

"C-can I come in?" he stuttered out. "To talk."

I narrowed my eyes at him, not moving from my spot by the door. "I'm not interested in your well-padded apology or your list of reasons for why you don't want me. If you've brought any of those with you, get lost. Humiliation and I don't get along."

"I never said I didn't want you, Vivienne," he said in a murmur, taking a step forward without breaking eye contact that I instinctively backed into the room. My heart started its crazy dance inside my chest.

"You never said you wanted me either," I said quietly, finally looking away and walking back into the room before I could do something stupid like throw my arms around him. I crossed them over my chest as if they could somehow protect me from Oliver's potent magic. They still felt awkward so I dropped them to my side and moved to a safer distance instead.

"You have to cut a guy some slack when you drop something like that on him," he said as he closed the door behind him. He went no further though. He just watched me sit on the edge of the bed on the other side of the room.

"Oh, come on, Oliver," I said, running a hand through my hair and shaking my head. "I'm sure it wasn't the first time a girl's ever dropped that line on you."

"It's the first time it ever came from you," he protested.

I raised a brow. "It's no different. Last time I checked, I possessed all the vital female parts."

His expression grew anguished, probably as he imagined precisely what those female parts were.

"You know exactly how different you are, Viv," he said as he took a deep breath and started pacing. "Don't pretend you have no idea."

"Oh. I have all kinds of ideas," I retorted with a shrug. "I just don't know if you have the same ones I do."

He stared hard at me. "What you said downstairs, about what you wanted—which is everything."

I smiled faintly. "I don't like mere crumbs, Oliver. I want the whole cake and eat it too. If you don't know that, then you don't know me at all."

He smiled back. "Oh, I know you want to have the whole cake—you want an entire rack of them, I'm sure. And the cake is there, Viv. It's been there all this time."

I held his gaze just as the world seemed to slow down around us. "What are you trying to say, Oliver?"

He took another deep breath and crossed the distance between us, stopping to crouch in front of me, his hand resting gently on my knee. He visibly shivered at the touch.

"What I'm trying to say is," he said slowly, swallowing hard. "We've been dancing around this long enough, Viv. It's no big secret what you mean to me."

I pressed my lips together for a moment. "Which is? And if you say little sister, I'll warn you now that I'll knee your tonsils all the way up to your skull."

He smirked. "I've never treated you like a sister, Viv, even when you were still very young."

"No, you haven't, but for years you treated me like a princess on a pedestal and I occasionally hated it," I said with a sigh, lowering my head and putting my own hands over his which was still perched on my knee.

"Why would you hate it?" he asked, confused.

"Because it meant that you might forever treat me like someone out of your reach and men are lazy," I grumbled. "You never showed me any kind of romantic interest. Sure, you spent so much time with me after I was old enough that anyone might think you have feelings for me but everyone knew you were involved with a lot of other women in all that time. If I were a different kind of girl, I'd say to hell with you but I liked to think that you were just waiting for me."

At the mention of other women, his eyes grew tormented. He closed them briefly, cursing under his breath, before opening them again to look at me with some panic.

"I never planned on this," he said gently, squeezing my knee lightly. "Not consciously, anyway. You were always my best girl. One day, you were nineteen then, I walked in on you floating around the pool in this little hot pink bikini, and it hit me that you were different—all grown up, all woman. I wanted you then but I didn't want to impose myself on you like that—not when you're still so young and there's still so much of life and the world out there for you to explore. I will never clip your wings like that, angel."

My head lifted, my lower lip trembling. "You want me?"

He smiled and raised my chin with his other hand. "Yes, I want you but more importantly, I love you."

My eyes narrowed at him. "I know you love me but are you in love with me?"

"As desperately as I could possibly be."

My eyes widened and my jaw must have dropped—very unbecomingly, I'm sure—and this mad thunderstorm came to life inside me, replacing my heart and filling the space with this fast-expanding warmth.

It was incredible how something that had felt empty and cold not so long ago could suddenly burst with light and reach into every corner of your soul.

"Oh, Oliver!" I flung myself at him, my arms wrapping around his neck. "I love you, too! I've loved you for ages!"

He laughed, the sound warm and happy, as he pulled me closer to him, his arms tightening around me. I closed my eyes and buried my face against his the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent—the one I'd know anywhere—and let it fire up every one of my senses.

I've hugged Oliver many times in the last ten years but this was the first time we held each other without the same boundaries we'd kept tiptoeing around lately. He felt solid and safe and warm against me, as familiar as my own body yet as curiously different as I catalogued the strength of his arms, the difference in our height, the warm, sensual feel of his skin, the teasing brush of his breath against my bare neck.

Registering the heavy ache that settled between my legs, I lifted my face up to him, smiling at the macro shot of his curved lips. "Will you kiss me?"

Those lips parted, his tongue flicking out to run along his bottom lip as he took in a deep, shaky breath.

Oliver, rumored to be legendary in bed, was nervous about kissing me.

My smile deepened.

He gathered his wits about him though because in the next instant, his hands cupped each side of my face and pulled me closer, his mouth relentless in the passionate kiss it unleashed on mine.

And of course, like I always did when challenged, I gave no quarter and gave it right back.

I kissed him back fiercely, maybe a little clumsily because I've kissed no more than two boys in my entire life, but it was so easy and natural to match Oliver and meet each stroke of his tongue where it teased my mouth, sucking where his lips might anchor against mine.

I didn't remember that we were still standing, holding each other precariously as if we were each other's base, until he pushed me down on the bed. Without breaking the kiss, he slid his hands down to cup my breasts, his thumbs brushing across the tips that hardened into tight, aching buds under the silk.

"Vivienne." My name came out in a gasp of breath from his lips as he raised his head to kiss me once again, his long, large frame climbing up the bed and sliding above mine.

My hands wrapped around the nape of his neck, pulling his head down lower to better access his kiss which had me addicted the instant our lips touched.

His own wandered down to my thighs where it caught the hem of my flimsy slip and pushed it up, exposing my skin that scorched at his most fleeting touch. All I had underneath the tiny scrap of silk were my dark blue lace underwear, so dainty and delicate it barely covered the V between my legs.

Whatever he could see, he liked, and even though I've never been so exposed to a man before, I basked in the way Oliver's piercing blue eyes blazed with a heat that felt like a hand gliding down my skin where his gaze trailed.

I leaned back to let him pull the slip off me, shaking my hair loose around me as the silk rustled past my head. When the floaty mass of rust-tinged hair cascaded down my shoulders and back, I saw the almost reverent expression on Oliver's face.

"You're so incredibly beautiful," he murmured as he lowered himself back down on the bed, pressing a soft kiss on my lips before bringing his face closer to the valley between my breasts which he'd molded with his hands. "But I suspect you already know that."

I laughed softly. "I suspect you've never noticed until tonight."

He lifted his head and gave me a disbelieving look. "Are you serious? There wasn't a day I didn't think of you as a beauty."

I wrinkled my nose. "Not even during my ugly duckling stage?"

He snorted. "You never had an ugly duckling stage and you know it."

I grinned because if anyone could be bluntly honest with me, it would be Oliver and I loved him more for it.

I bit my lip to stifle a giggle but the motion just drew his interest down to my mouth which he hungrily claimed. His hands loosened their grasp on my breasts, the rough pads of his fingertips creating delicious friction against the silky feel of my skin. He pulled away, letting me catch my breath only to have it dive back my throat when he bent his head down to catch a nipple and suck it into his hot, moist mouth, sending my nerves spiking when the edge of his teeth lightly grazed the tightened bud.

I cried out Oliver's name the moment his tongue curved around my nipple and I arched back, feeding my breast further into his mouth without the inhibitions of a woman who still had control of her senses. My mind was crackling with this white, hot intense energy that skittered on my skin, burned through my bones and thrummed at my nerve endings.

My legs gave way to his questing hand, parting as he cupped me where I ached, the heel of his palm grinding with exquisite rhythm against my core. His fingers slipped under the lace, finding me bare and slick and practically vibrating with need.

"Oliver, I want... Please, you have to..." My words were mindless and frantic as I writhed under his touch, gasping at the burning fullness of his finger as he touched me deep with it. "Please, Oliver!"

"Angel, I can't... We can't." His own ragged breaths came hot and fast against my cheek, his voice no more than a low growl. "Not like this."

He ripped himself away from me, leaving me suddenly bare and cold, shoving his hands into the pockets of his very tight-looking pants and backing up to the other side of the room.

Edgy with the need still gnawing at my body, I sat up and stared at him in disbelief.

"Oliver Quentin Yates, are you fucking kidding me?"

"Don't swear, Viv," he chided, looking miserably frustrated and torn.

I pressed my lips into a tight line as I struggled to find something to say that would flip back this suddenly ridiculous interruption of what I suspected was going to be the most mind-blowing experience of my life.

He squirmed for a moment, his pants still tenting where he couldn't deny his own need, before throwing his hands up in the air with a loud groan.

"You shouldn't do it unless... unless you're old enough," he stammered.

I raised a brow. "I'm twenty-one. What's the problem? People have done it at a much younger age than that."

He narrowed his eyes. "And did you? Did you do it at a much younger age?"

I couldn't help but smile smugly. "Are you by chance asking me if I've had sex before, Oliver?"

He gritted his teeth. "Yes."

I could be heartless and wait until he's smacked his head on a wall.

"As much as I'd like to torture you just a little bit, I won't," I said, finally relenting after a moment of temptation. I licked my lips, finding them swollen, probably just as much as Oliver's own were. "I'm as virgin as a nun in a remote mountain monastery wearing a chastity belt and being guarded by dragons. I knew who I wanted, Oliver, and I waited maybe not so patiently, but I waited."

I could see him fighting a smile, and despite my own annoyance at having to admit the sorry fact that I'd been so hopelessly in love with him I saved myself all this time, I felt myself smile back.

He cleared his throat. "Well, in that case, you shouldn't do it unless... you're married."

I couldn't blink or look away from that.

Marriage. Like Mr. and Mrs. Yates.

He looked like he was holding his breath and it struck me that he wasn't joking, that he was actually asking me something very important here without the obvious words.

A slow, strange beat started in my blood and I straightened slowly, sweeping my hair away from my face and fixing my slip back into decency. A girl's got to have some class in moments like this.

"I'm game if you are."

Watching the man you love almost choke as his reaction to your saying yes to his very untraditional proposal wasn't the most flattering experience but as I watched Oliver swallow hard and brush away beads of perspiration I didn't realize had formed above his brow, it occurred to me that this was perhaps, one of his rare, most vulnerable moments and it spoke volumes.

Oliver Yates didn't break out into cold sweat.

He was always cool, composed and confident even as his world spun in different directions.

The only other time I'd ever seen him stripped of that come-get-me attitude was the day his parents and brother were buried.

"You would do that?" he asked gruffly, trying to keep his cool but clearly nervous and excited at the same time. "You would marry me?"

I smiled, my heart squeezing with the instinct to go to him and give him my answer with a kiss. "Well, it was either do it right away or do it later. I wasn't waiting for you all these years just to have sex with you, Oliver. I always knew I would marry you, that I would spend my life with you. I'll marry you yesterday, today and tomorrow."

His face broke into the biggest, brightest smile I've ever seen on him before he laughed and came toward me, pulling me up and into his arms for a tight embrace, his lips scattering little kisses all over my face.

"I love you, Viv, and if you don't mind, I'd like to marry you tonight."

***

So, what do you guys think?

Too fast? LOL. Well, Oliver and Vivienne aren't going to be the most traditional of couples.

I hope you stick around for the next chapter next week.

Make sure to vote and comment so I know you want to see more!

XOXO,

Ninya

♪♪♪ Chapter Soundtrack: And I Love Her by Passenger ♪♪♪

She's a whistle on the wind

A feather on the breeze

A ripple on the stream

She is sunlight on the sea

She's a soft summer rain

Falling gently through the trees

And I love her

She's cunning as a fox

Clever as a crow

Solid as a rock

She is stubborn as a stone

Shes a hardheaded woman

And the best one that I know

And I love her

Yeah well I love her

She's as new as the springtime,

Strong as autumn blows

Warm as the summer

And soft as the snow

She's a thousand miles from here

But she's everywhere I go

Cuz I love her

She loves me like a woman

She looks like a lady

She laughs like a child

And cries like a baby

I think that maybe she's the one that's gonna save me