“Fuck,” Gavin mutters as he catches me once more, this time before I hit the ground. “Nessa?”
Nessa.I grin at the name I gave him, that woozy feeling I always get whenever I see blood falling over me like a blanket. He gathers me into his arms, holding me tightly as I work to regain basic control of my body.
“Nessa? Nessa?” He holds my chin between his thumb and forefinger, looking down into my eyes.
It does nothing to help the dizziness. Something inside me snaps all at once, and I gulp in a full breath of air for what feels like the first time in minutes. Gavin looks panicked for a moment before he finally realizes what’s going on.
“Shit,” he mutters, resting his forehead against mine. “Shit. You scared me, love.”
“S-Sorry,” I say through my chattering teeth. I always get a rush of cold after an episode like this. I guess that doesn’t change even if I’m pressed against a warm body. “I’m okay.”
“Blood?” he asks, his own breaths a bit shaky.
“Blood,” I repeat.
He sighs heavily, releasing his strong hold on me but not fully letting me go. He grasps my hand like he’s afraid I’m going to fallor nearly faint again if he doesn’t. He rolls his tongue against his lips, looking down the sidewalk toward even brighter lights.
“Look, I have a hotel room nearby. I can clean you up there, get you some water…you look like you could use some.”
He’s inviting me back to his hotel room. I know he said it’s to get me cleaned up, but do I really know that? How can I be sure he’s not going to expect something else? Something tells me he isn’t. Something tells me he’s just a good guy and truly wants to help me.
Still, I hesitate. Not because I don’t trust him, but because this isn’t me. I’m not the kind of girl to walk a city alone with a guy I just met, and I’m definitely not the kind of girl to go back to a stranger’s hotel room, even if it is just to clean a wound. Then again, I’ve not been myself all night. Why start now?
“I’m sorry that was really awkward. I didn’t mean anything by it. No innuendo. I just?—”
“Yes.”
He lifts his brows at the singular word. “Yes?”
I nod. “Yes. But just to clean my leg. Because I really cannot stand the sight of blood, and I worry if I try to clean it myself, I’m going to end up passed out in some random bathroom in the middle of New York City, and I’d rather not do that.”
My parents would lose their minds if that happened.
He grins, and it’s not one of those sleazy, grimy grins you would get from just about any other guy. No, it’s genuine, and it makes me feel too warm inside. With my hand still in his, Gavin leads the way. The whole walk to his hotel, he steals peeks at me, checking to make sure I’m okay and my leg hasn’t fallen off somewhere along the way. Or at least I assume that’s what he’s looking for. Whatever the case, I like it.
He guides us into The Sinclair New York, and for a moment, I panic.I’mstaying at this hotel too. Does he know that? Has this all been some weird elaborate game? But as he pulls me into theelevator and presses the button for a floor I’m not on, I realize it’s just a coincidence.
At least the walk back to my room will be quick.
I settle back against his touch, needing it. Needing anything really. Something to reassure me I’m doing the right thing by going back to his room with him.It’s just to clean up the blood. That’s all. Nothing else. It’s innocent.I repeat this to myself as the elevator climbs to the fifty-second floor. The chime says we’ve reached our destination, and I notice Gavin doesn’t make a move to leave immediately. It’s almost as if he’s waiting for me, giving me a chance to change my mind.
I don’t want to change my mind.
When the doors slide open, I step out of the elevator. He’s right behind me, his hand still pressed against my lower back, directly above my ass. If I were to put just a little more jaunt in my step, his touch would slip lower, and I’d feel him there. A part of me wants to, too.
But I don’t.
He stops in front of his room, pressing his phone against the big black circle on the door.
“Just so you know, this isn’t me. My, uh, company paid for the swanky room.”
“Fancy,” I mutter, not mentioning that I’m staying here and not on company dime, but because the woman who created this luxury hotel chain is pregnant with my stepbrother’s baby.
Gavin never did elaborate on what he does for work, but I guess that’s fair. I haven’t exactly told him a lot about me either. Though what am I going to say? I’m an assistant in my father’s law firm and I hate every moment of it? Not because of my dad—he’s amazing. It’s just not exactly what I envisioned I’d be doing with my life. I wanted to travel and see the world. Experience different cultures, meet new and interesting people. I wanted to create gorgeous paintings of whatever country I found myself in.
But I never got to do any of that. I met Neal, and he became everything. He urged me to get my business degree so I could “do something practical.” Then he encouraged me to forgo using it, instead staying home to support him as he rose through the ranks of his investment firm. He’s the one who told me to stop with my silly drawings and focus on building our future. I’m the idiot who listened to him.
“You okay?” Gavin asks, and I wonder if he can read my mind since he seems to know when I’m stuck in it for too long.
