Page 11 of Scarred Hearts

Heat rose in my cheeks, and I gripped the steering wheel hard.

“Kidding,” she giggled. “It’s so any visitor has a good park when they don’t take the T. You know traffic in this city can be a nightmare.” She pointed straight ahead. “Over there, ground level.”

I drove where she told me to, parked, and got out. When I opened her door, she stumbled and fell into my chest. I caught her and held onto her upper arms to steady her for the second time tonight.

“Your body is still as hard as I remember,” she peered into my eyes but quickly looked away, attempting to stand on her own. She brushed herself off with stubborn determination, like she’d fallen in a pile of dirt. “I’m fine,” she beamed, taking a step in her high heels, immediately tripping again.

Once more, I caught her, gripping her arm tightly. “You’re utterly useless,” I grumbled under my breath as we made our way to the crosswalk.

“You didn’t think I was useless when you fucked my every hole,” she retorted. “I was pretty useful to you then, wasn’t I, Ty?”

Shocked, I lowered my eyes to hers. She peered up at me with bratty boldness. I was so taken aback by her brazen words that I found myself unable to come up with a proper argument or denial. Me… a lawyer, and a damn good one.

Before I could gather my thoughts, we were given the signal to cross the street, so I wrapped an arm around her waist gently and guided her across to the side entrance of the building. The elevator ride up to her apartment was silent while she leaned against the wall, watching the numbers climb.

“I don’t feel so well,” she groaned as it neared the eighth floor, pressing her palm to her forehead. “I think I’m going to puke again.”

Remembering the bottle of water I had stashed in my jacket pocket, I retrieved it, handing it to her.

“Thanksss.” With shaky hands, she unscrewed the lid and took a gulp.

“Slowly,” I cautioned, “or you’ll definitely end up throwing up.”

“Right,” With a heavy sigh, she lowered her bag to her side just as the doors of the elevator dinged and opened. “This is me,” she announced, coming to a stop at her door. Her movements were clumsy as she tried to balance opening her bag and holding onto the bottle.

I reached out and took it from her, screwing the cap back on. She fumbled around for a few more seconds before finally taking out her key and unlocking the door. I stretched my arm out, holding it open while she faltered inside. The bottle dropped to my side, hitting the floor in the entryway. The door slammed shut behind us, and I quickly grabbed her elbows to steady her.

“How much did you drink tonight?” I asked sharply. “Chance mixes them strong, but you’re acting like someone drugged you.”

“Kirsten and I drank two bottles of wine before we left here,” she admitted, jerking away from me and bracing a palm on my shoulder as she kicked off her black stilettos and dropped her handbag.

That explained it. I guided her over to one of the couches in her spacious living room. She plopped down clumsily and then fell over sideways in slow motion, her head hitting the pillow. Pressing her fingertips to her temples, she groaned.

“Do you need more water?” I offered.

She shook her head weakly. “Just leave me here. I’m fin—” her voice trailed off mid-sentence.

I took a step forward, ready to brush the stray strands of hair from her face, before stopping abruptly. Shaking my head, I exhaled and turned to take in the magnificence of her luxurious apartment. Damn, Gia.

The only time I ever went anywhere near where she lived was her room at Penthouse L.A. At the time, I didn’t even know she lived there. I thought it was only her job, but I also half-expected her to live in a sex dungeon somewhere else too.

This place was light, airy, and felt like a home. I wondered just how much money her father left her and how much she’d had before that. Not that it mattered, but her lifestyle seemed extravagant for someone like… her. Then again, I didn’t really know her, nor did I care to.

Lowering my gaze back on her, I felt a sense of mild relief when I saw her chest rise and fall to let me know she was still breathing. I pushed the compassionate thoughts out of my mind for a half-second, then turned away to leave. As I marched toward the door, I stopped and spun back around, sighing once again. Damnit.

Walking over to the kitchen, I yanked open the refrigerator door and grabbed two cold bottles of water. Scanning the cabinets until I found a large metal mixing bowl, I mumbled under my breath, “This’ll have to do.”

I sauntered back over to where she lay, setting the bowl on the floor next to the couch and put the water bottles on the coffee table on two coasters. Taking the black and white blanket off the back of the sofa, I draped it over her curled body. Her head was in a position that I knew would cause her to be sore for weeks after she woke up. I cradled her neck and head, gently positioning her straighter on the decorative pillow.

Pausing, my heart raced as I stared down at the woman who had once consumed my thoughts and desires. The memory of our one encounter flooded back to me in vivid detail. One I’d paid for, and she was obligated to fulfill because of it. My gaze darted to the hand that was cupping her neck, and I realized I had been absentmindedly circling her cheek with the pad of my thumb.

She shifted on the sofa, her eyes fluttered open, and she barely whispered, “I like when you touch me like th—” her voice trailed off, and she drifted off to sleep again.

With a jolt, I lurched back, dismissing the intense emotions that threatened to overwhelm me. I needed to bring myself back to reality. At that moment, I knew I had to get out of her apartment. I’d done the gentlemanly thing and driven her home. I’d helped her drunk ass get into her place safely and positioned her so she wouldn’t drown in her own vomit.

This time, I spared no time marching toward the door. Bending over, I took her shoes, sitting them next to the white foyer table and picked up her Louis Vuitton handbag, placing it on the surface. Flickering my gaze back at her one last time, I ran my fingers through my hair in frustration before leaving.

3

---