His Purple Heart

2 - Mr. Mysterious

I couldn't believe my eyes or my ears. The infamous Olga was standing at my door. The girl didn't look a day over nineteen. I'd imagine Olga to be so many things, and none of them came close to the spectacle standing before me.

Olga had apparently just gotten out of the shower. Her dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail, her tinted face scrubbed clean, no trace of makeup detectable. Big, round, doe eyes with the longest set of eyelashes that I had ever seen stared back at me.

"Hello, Is Drake here?" Even her voice sounded young and I couldn't help but cringe.

I opened my mouth to answer her, but the words wouldn't come out. All I could think about was how Olga could have an orgasm and I couldn't.

Lucky bitch.

She was not only strikingly pretty, but she now had a man who could make her come during sex. Life didn't get any better than that, did it?

Well, just maybe, because Olga was most probably a model or something in show business, or her father was rich and she hadn't worked a day in her life.

I heard Drake approaching behind me, but I couldn't take my eyes off of Olga, who was dressed in a white sheer top and a flared polka dot skirt. She didn't have much going on curve wise, but she definitely had an America's-next-top-model face and legs as long as a giraffe's.

Drake showed up at the door, his wide shoulders pushing me aside so he could talk to Olga. "Give me a minute, Olga. I need to grab my suitcase," he said, before disappearing into the bedroom again.

"How do you know Drake?" I finally asked after I found my voice.

"We met at the gym. Are you his sister? He said he lived with his younger sister." Olga's large eyes bounced back and forth between me and whatever Drake was doing in the background.

"He said that?" That bastard. That rat-ass bastard. His sister? Really? I laughed at the thought. "I was actually his girlfriend up until five days ago."

I did my best to make it sound like I didn't give a fuck. When in fact I wanted to jump this girl and pull out all of her hair and maybe, just maybe scratch her eyeballs out too.

"No way," Olga said, her already large eyes bulging out of their sockets. "No way," she repeated. The poor girl looked like she was about to pass out or vomit. She could empty her guts if she so wished, but not on this porch. I took a lot of pride in the little apartment I'd gotten together with Drake.

"Yup, he played us both." I kept my voice neutral as if none of this fazed me.

"You knew about me? Omg! I feel horrible. I seriously had no idea."

Just then, Drake came out into the hall dragging his suitcase behind him. "What's going on?" A guilty look scurried across his face and was gone a second later. "Don't believe anything she's telling you, Olga. I will explain everything later." He then turned to me and said, "I left the keys on the table."

"What's with the suitcase?" Olga asked, pointing at the luggage standing at Drake's feet. Her voice sounded shrill, panicked.

"I need a place to crash, just for a few days," he said.

For a minute Olga looked uncertain. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Come on, Olga. Don't be like that," Drake said, reaching out to touch Olga on her shoulders. She shrugged him off and shook her head vehemently.

I smirked and quietly closed the door, locking it in the process. I leaned my head against the smooth wood and sighed. Drake and Olga were still discussing outside, their voices coming in and out like a radio station going bad. He was begging her to give him a chance and telling her that she didn't know the real Drake. "I will not mess this up, Olga. I love you. Our relationship was over long before I met you, believe me."