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Horrified. Embarrassed.
Pissed.
As I'd requested when checking in, the concierge dropped off a bottle of water and aspirin quickly, ducking out of sight when he caught the thunderous look on my face. I placed them on the nightstand where she'd
be able to reach them when she woke up with the hangover from hell.
I supported her weight against my body, tugging the covers down so I could lay her in them. When her body laid out on her back finally, the purple dress that covered her fit like a second skin. The temptation to touch my fingers to the place where her heart beat in a steady thrum consumed me, but my hand hovered just an inch from her skin. The burn scars on the back taunted me, reminding me why it had to be this way.
Her red lips glistened, a beckoning temptation I wasn't strong enough to resist. I leaned in, my lips touching hers in the faintest hint of a kiss as I pulled away. I grabbed the notepad off the nightstand, scribbling a quick note on it. My throat was tight as I scribbled the words she'd see when she first woke up.
Stay home.
I imagined her reading it the next morning, drinking the water and taking the pills as she forced her eyes to work. The rejected look on her face wasn't hard to imagine.
I'd pushed her away countless times since we met.
She deserved a man who could give her the world. Not one who could barely tolerate being touched.
I made my way to the door, glancing back at her and knowing one truth.
It would be the last time I watched her dance at Indulgence. Walking away would mean the end of whatever it was that threatened to pull me under.
I turned and closed the door behind me with a final click that echoed through me.
