“C’mon,” Yasmin slurs. “Let’s get you home. I’ll call us a cab.”
“No, you won’t,” I step in. “I’m going to take you home and then I’m taking her with me to keep an eye on her.”
“Like hell you are,” the woman hisses. “Who are you anyway?”
“Isaac Petrosian.”
Her eyes go wide, no doubt recognizing my name. “Okay, but that doesn’t mean you’re taking Cam with you anywhere.”
“I… I don’t think I feel so good,” Camilla murmurs. “I feel kind of hot.” She attempts to lift her top up, not thinking about the fact that we’re in a bar filled with people.
“Not here,” I tell her, scooping her into my arms and glancing at Yasmin. “I’m taking Camilla back to my place where I can make sure she’s okay. You’re too drunk to handle it if something happens to her. Now, I need to get her out of here before the drug hits her hard. You coming or not?” Camilla is my only priority, but since Yasmin’s her friend, I’d rather not leave her here.
Her mouth opens and closes several times before she nods. “Fine, but if something happens to her…”
“Nothing is going to happen to her on my watch. Let’s go.”
While I carry Camilla to my truck, she fans herself, saying she’s hot and wants to take her clothes off. Her eyes are growing heavy and I know it’s only a matter of time before she becomes lethargic.
The ride to Yasmin’s place is quick. Even shit-faced drunk, she’s worried about leaving her friend with me, so I give her my phone number and address before I make sure she gets inside safe, and then leave.
Camilla’s eyes are closed and she’s moaning incoherently as I carry her to the elevator in my building and then into my place. She tries to talk, apologizing for everything that’s happened, and then tries to kiss me, but I shush her, laying her in my bed. I grab her a bottle of water and help her drink it and then go about taking her heels off. I leave her shorts and shirt on, and then pull the blanket over her.
“Isaac,” she slurs, grabbing me by my shirt when I stand to get changed. “I… Something feels…wrong.” Her eyes, filled with fear and confusion, flutter open and closed, and my heart squeezes behind my chest.
“It’s okay,” I tell her, kneeling next to the bed. “I’m here and I’m going to make sure you’re okay. You were drugged, and you have to wait for it to get through your system. Just close your eyes and sleep, sweetheart.” She nods slowly and her eyes close. When her breathing evens out, I know she’s asleep.
I stand and kiss her forehead, then change into some comfortable clothes before I grab my laptop and have a seat in the bed next to her. It’s only eleven and there’s no way I’ll be sleeping tonight. Drugs like GHB can have a variety of side effects, and until I know she’s safe and it’s out of her system, I’ll be watching her closely.
As I stare at her sleeping soundly, her chest rising and falling, I can’t help thinking, despite the reason she’s here, how perfect she looks in my bed. If it were up to me, she would never leave. That shitty apartment complex she lives in is no place for her. She should be here, with me, where I can love her and spoil her and make sure she’s always taken care of.
I laugh to myself, fully aware of how crazy I sound. But I don’t care. There’s no doubt in my mind Camilla is the one for me. Now I just have to get her on board.
CHAPTER TEN
CAMILLA
As I pry my eyes open, white light filters in through the windows, nearly blinding me and forcing my eyes to quickly shut. Pounding, deep inside my skull, like someone has taken up drumming in my head, has me rolling over into a fetal position.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
The sound of a phone going off has me reaching around for my phone. I peel one eye open and find a slew of texts from Yasmin asking if I’m okay. I quickly type back that I am, so she doesn’t worry, then drop my phone onto the bed, closing my eyes.
What the hell happened last night?
After a few minutes, the pain decreases slightly and I try again. This time, when I open my eyes, I gasp in shock, having no idea where I am. The room, a deep bluish gray, is large and filled with expensive-looking mahogany furniture. The paintings of the beach and ocean on the walls give nothing away, and neither does the view of the intercoastal outside.
I sit up and my head throbs, a woozy feeling overtaking me. I stay still, waiting for the room to stop spinning, and once it does, I climb out of the bed so I can figure out where I am and how I got here. The first thing I notice on the nightstand is a bottle of water and a pack of pain pills.