Page 76 of Make Me Sin (Bad Habit 2)
A.J. is out of the car and opening my door so fast my head spins. He lifts me into his arms, and kicks the door shut behind him. He kisses the top of my head. “All right, Princess. You’re getting punchy on me. Time for you to go to sleep.”
I wind my arms around his neck as he strides toward the back doors of the hotel. He leans down so I can turn the knob to open the door, then straightens and shoulders his way past it, careful not to jostle me or knock my head against the doorjamb. I think we’re going to take an elevator, but A.J. carries me in his arms all the way up a back staircase to the second floor. He doesn’t even break a sweat.
I rest my head against his shoulder as he ambles down the long corridor toward his room. “This is very impressive. You
must work out with really heavy weights.”
“Baby, you’re the lightest weight I’ve ever carried.”
This man speaks in riddles. He is a riddle. He says one thing, and means another. He wants one thing, and allows himself another. There’s so much light in him, yet he is so very dark.
And I’m falling for him. I know it. I feel it. I want it, yet because I know there will be no happily-ever-after to this fairytale, I don’t. If I allow myself to fall in love with him, I no longer think it will merely hurt, as I told Grace and Kat. I think it will be much worse than that. I think the fall might break me.
I think A.J. might have been right about this all along.
Still, I don’t ask him to stop. I don’t ask him to turn back around and drive me to my parents’ house, or to a hotel. I allow him to cradle me in his arms, take me into his room, and lay me gently down on the mattress on the floor that he calls a bed. I stare up at him with wide eyes, unsure of what to do next.
Without another word, he takes off my shoes. He tucks a blanket around me, fluffs the pillow under my head. He straightens, goes into the little kitchenette adjacent to the main room, makes me a cup of herbal tea with honey, then watches me intently as I drink, propped up on my elbow. When I’m finished, he whistles. From down the hall I hear the sound of little toenails tearing against carpet.
Bella noses her way past the door, wriggling and barking happily when she sees A.J.
“C’mon, baby. Come help Chloe get better.” He kneels, hands outstretched. Bella runs to him with her adorable, awkward, three-legged gait. He hugs and kisses her, then sets her beside me, gently encouraging her with pets and murmurs to snuggle up against me. Reluctantly, she does.
Her eyes are the most amazing liquid brown. She’s a little afraid of me, but because A.J. has told her it’s okay, she lets me stroke her head, pet her soft, warm body. As a feeling of peacefulness begins to replace the anxiety, I yawn, my eyes drooping. Bella licks my chin.
“I don’t have enough food here. I need to make a run to the store—”
“Not yet!” My lids fly open. I’m panicked at the thought of him leaving. “Please don’t leave me yet. I don’t think I can be alone right now.”
A.J. kneels next to the mattress. He strokes a hand over my hair. He murmurs, “You’ll never be alone again, Chloe, not if you don’t want to be. Okay?” Then he looks at me, really looks at me, letting me see the emotion in his eyes.
I hear what he’s saying, what he’s asking, and my vision gets blurry. All of my energy goes into trying not to ugly cry. “Okay.”
A.J. leans over and kisses me. It’s tender and beautiful, the softest, sweetest kiss I’ve ever had. When he pulls away, I have to hide my face in the pillow so he doesn’t see my tears.
He stands and goes into the kitchenette again. I think he’s giving me my space. Or maybe he needs space of his own. Because what’s happening between us is huge, and it’s happening fast.
I blow out a breath, snuggle closer to Bella, and shove all the worry away. I know I can worry as much as I want to when I wake up. Right now, I’m exhausted. I need an escape from the Category 5 hurricane howling inside my mind.
Within minutes, I’m asleep.
When I open my eyes again, it’s early evening. The sun has set behind the hills, and the room is full of soft shadows. An opera plays low on the stereo. Warm pools of flickering light dance around the clusters of lit pillar candles gathered on the windowsills, grouped around the floor. Bella is gone.
I’m not wearing a watch and there’s no clock in the room, so I can’t tell the exact time, but judging by the light, I’d guess it’s maybe six o’clock. I’ve slept the entire day. My throat is raw and scratchy. My head is pounding. I need to use the toilet.
“A.J.?”
No answer. I stand, groaning at the stiffness in my muscles, and stretch. My cheek feels hot and tight around the stitches; I should ice it. I move slowly from the bed to the kitchenette, hoping to find A.J. hiding in some corner.
He isn’t there.
I try not to freak out, figuring he’s probably taking Bella for a pee or something. I find ice in the freezer, wrap it in a paper towel, and press it to my face. Then I hear a low sound from the bathroom. I cock my head, frowning.
The faint sound comes again.
The skin on the back of my neck tingling, I lower the ice and move toward the closed bathroom door. I stand there a moment, listening.
“A.J.? Are you all right?”
