Safe to love you

Chapter Four

Chapter FOUR

Presley

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" The phone number isn't any fucking good! The number Alicia gave me belongs to some stupid used car dealership.

I can't believe I'm not going to be able to contact her. I don't even know her first name, for Christ's sake! That's it; I'm never going to be able to find her again. All I've got to go on is her nickname, Abs. How the hell is that going to help me?

I've heard about people calling in on live radio shows before, in hopes of finding a person they they've only met once. I could try the same thing, but the idea makes me feel like a total loser.

Besides, she already has a boyfriend. The dude's an asshole, I could tell by the way he acted around her, but he was still obviously her boyfriend. I don't want to get her in any more trouble than I might already have caused her yesterday. I played with fire by pulling that stunt and anything could have happened. He might have caught us, hell; he could have beaten the crap out of me for making a move on his girl. He could have lost his temper with Abs for even talking to me. Shit—I hope she's okay.

I sit at my desk and all I can think about is the taste of her lips against mine. So sweet and luscious, she was amazing. I need to discover a way to find her, but I'm fairly certain I'm asking for the impossible.

After I kissed her last night, I didn't see her again. Her friend was still there, as was the moron with the tie, but she was nowhere to be seen. I even went outside, hoping she'd maybe slipped out of the show, but I didn't see .

Giving up frustrated, I went back inside and I tried to enjoy the rest of the show, thinking I'd be able to telephone her today. I have to admit, Muse is the best live band I've ever seen, I'm glad I stayed until the end, but I'm pissed that I may have lost her forever.

*****

The rest of the day was a very ordinary Saturday moping around, playing with different combinations of numbers and calling a dozen different wrong numbers. To my dismay, I still didn't find her.

On Sunday, sick of my glum mood, Joshua and Alicia forced me out of the apartment and into doing something constructive. They took me bowling. It was fun; I can't lie and say I didn't have a good time. I kicked both their butts, big time, which did put a smile on my face. Alicia was really sorry that she got the phone number wrong, but she promised to keep her eyes open and try to find her. How she's going to do that, I don't know—this is a big city and there are a lot of people in it. But hey, I'm desperate, and I'll take any help I can get if it means seeing my mystery woman again.

After two lethargic days, Monday couldn't have come any sooner. It's been three days since I've met her and three days since I've lost her. I'm suffering from a sense of helplessness. My desire to find her is incredibly strong. There's this voice inside my head, promising me I will find her again, but when? How?

I felt something extraordinary when I was with her. I desperately want to experience that feeling again. She is so special and stunningly beautiful. As soon as I laid eyes on her, I knew how amazing she was and I know she experienced the same thing as I did. The little moan which escaped her lips when we kissed told me how much she loved it. I'm not an idiot. She isn't the first girl I've kissed in my life and had them moan in pleasure, but it was never like this with any other woman. There is something about her that I can't describe. She's the whole package – her smile, her eyes and those lips.

I don't know what to do with myself. Grabbing a note pad and start sketching her from memory. It's an okay drawing, but it doesn't do her justice.

My door is pushed open. Nobody ever knocks around here.