Page 7 of Kiss Away Your Pain (Wounded Hearts 2)

Some days I still pinch myself to make sure this is all real. I’ve worked my ass off to build my fashion photography business to what it is today. I work with the most amazing people and iconic brands which blows my mind. I just wish Mom was here to see me. She’d be so proud of me. And someday, when I get my gig with Gucci, I know she’ll be smiling down on me from heaven. I fiddle with Dom’s ring hanging on my chain.

The bartender sets my hot toddy on a cocktail napkin and I stir it with the cinnamon stick, letting it cool so I don’t burn my tongue. Watching the liquid swirl as the music caresses me, my thoughts drift to Dom. About once a month, we’d go to our favorite jazz club for a few hours to listen to live music, have some drinks, and spend time connecting with each other. I loved those nights.

“May I join you?” The low timbre of his voice shakes me from my reverie, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stiffen.

Enzo.

“Oh. Hi. Um, sure.” My heartbeat ticks up.

“I was heading out to my car and saw you in here as I was about to pass by. You sure?” He confirms my approval.

“Yes, please.” I motion toward the open stool next to me.

He waves his hand at the bartender and points to my drink as he sits down. The bartender nods, confirming his order. “Nothing better than a hot toddy and some good music before bed.” He looks around. “You here alone?”

“Yeah, I didn’t feel ready to go to bed yet. I don’t sleep great when I’m not in my own bed, so I thought this might help.” I take a sip, the warm liquid flows down my throat.

“Oh, you have a room. So, you’re not from around here then?”

“No, I am. L.A. I just knew I’d be drinking so I got a room to be safe.”

“Mmm, good thinking.” He pauses. “Your friends are very nice. They gave us a huge tip.”

I smile and cock my head. “That’s Nicco. The world has this weird view of him because of his role in Don Matteo and the tiny little bit they see on social media. They have no idea who he really is. He’s such a good guy. He came from so little. Lost so much. And he’s very humble. He knows how hard people work. Now that he has money, he does what he can to help others.”

“That says a lot about his character,” he says as the bartender places his drink in front of him.

“Yup, that’s why I set them up.” I sip my drink.

“Yeah, I heard that in your speech.”

“You were listening to my speech?”Didn’t expect that.

He takes a drink and tilts his head to the side. “You kinda caught my attention.” His lips curl up at the edges.

“I did?” The hot toddy must be kicking in because heat warms my cheeks. It has to be the drink. I don’t react like this when men say things like that to me. Of course, heisinsanely attractive.

“From the second you walked down that aisle.” One side of his mouth raises higher with his confession as his kryptonic gaze freezes me.

A frenzy swarms my blood at his words.

The sensual melody of “Stand Still” wisps through the air, silky ribbons of invitation. He offers me his hand. Mesmerized, I take it, following him to the small dance floor where several couples are dancing.

Firmly in his grip once again, I’m intoxicated by the moment.What is it about this guy?For most of the song, he holds my body against his, attraction billowing everywhere our bodies touch. His heart beats against my breasts. He moves us effortlessly, flowing with the music as the lyrics seduce us. My face at his neck, I inhale his clean, spicy scent with each breath.

He pulls back so we’re face-to-face, close. Gazing into my eyes, he looks beyond them, deeper, entrancing me. His breath feathers hot across my cheek as his eyes flash to my lips. My heart beats wildly, flailing inside my chest, a lick of lust provoking me. I’m not thinking straight.

I slide my hand from resting on his shoulder up to his neck, pressing my fingers in slightly, pulling him toward me. Responding, he lowers his head, placing his warm, whiskey-laced lips on mine.God, I forgot what this feels like.All my thoughts are gone. All I can do is feel. I feel everything. I feel the heat of his skin touching mine. I feel the unhurried, hypnotizing circles of his tongue around mine. I feel the ache of desire I banished four years ago. I’m lost in him, consumed.

The song ends and we part our lips. Pangs of guilt thrash me. I shove apart our bodies.What the fuck did I just do?

“I — I have to go.” Remorse stings my stomach. I dash to the bar and grab my clutch, passing by him on my way to the door.

He grabs my hand. “Candi, wait,” he says gently, pain soaking his expression.

I look down at our hands. Acid curdles inside me. “I’m, I’m sorry. I have to go.” Withdrawing my hand, I walk quickly to the elevator. Frantically pressing the button, I look up at the lighted numbers. My pulse races. It’s taking too long. I head to the stairs and start running up them, which isn’t a great idea in this dress and these heels.

A few flights up, I hold onto the railing and turn myself around, sitting down on a step. Clutching my chest, panting, I grab Dom’s ring around my neck as tears spill down my face. “I’m so sorry, Dom,” I whisper to no one.

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