Chapter 18
Ace
Slowly blinking my eyes open, I take in my immediate surroundings. I’m still at Kian’s.
What time is it?
I try to lick my lips, but my mouth is bone dry and tastes like vomit.
Oh my God.
I suck in a breath and slowly look around, not wanting to make myself nauseous again.
He watched me vomit.
And held my hair.
Then called in a doctor.
Who has a doctor who does house calls in the middle of the night?
Men like him. That’s who.
Kian may not be in a mafia family, but I get the feeling they might as well be.
Carefully, I sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed, my gaze landing on the empty trash can on the floor next to me and a somewhat-fresh bowl of ice on the nightstand along with several bottles of water, a heating pad, and saltine crackers.
A lump forms in my throat while I sit for a minute to regulate myself before I try to walk. My balance is always off during and after a migraine, and the last thing I want to do is throw up again.
Kian was so damn sweet last night. He swooped in and took over.
For the first time since I started experiencing migraines, I wasn’t alone, thinking I might actually die because the pain was so severe.
Not only did he take care of me, but he was so freaking sweet about it.
He’d expected a night of hot sex, and he had to deal with that, which he did so easily.
The bedroom door opens, and I look over as Kian walks in, still in his underwear, his eyebrows pinched and jaw set. When he notices me, he stops and opens his mouth like he’s going to say something but then closes it before he comes over and opens a bottle of water for me.
“Thank you,” I rasp.
He nods and watches while I take several drinks, then takes it from me when I finish.
“How are you feeling?” he asks quietly.
“Tired and groggy, but not hurting like I was.”
“Would you like to take a bath?”
His offer is so sweet that I want to accept, but his tone is tight, and I get the feeling he’s ready for me to be gone. Of course he doesn’t want to deal with this. I’m some chick he was trying to fuck.
“No, thank you. I just want to go home and go back to bed for a while.”
Kian stares at me, his eyes studying me for a moment before he nods. “I’ll find you some sweats to put on, and I’ll take you home.”
He’s been quiet ever since he walked back into the bedroom. Kian is always quiet, but there’s a tension in the air I can feel even through my hazy state of mind. I’m too tired to ask questions, though. I meant it when I said I wanted to go back to bed.
The drive from his house to mine takes less than a minute, but it seems longer. He puts the SUV in park and turns it off, then comes around the front and opens the passenger door, offering a hand to help me out.
His movements are tense as he leads me up to the porch, waits while I enter the code into the door, then steps inside.
“What do you need to get comfortable and in bed?” he asks from behind me, scanning the small foyer.
My stomach twists, but it’s not nausea this time. It’s the knowledge that Kian wants to be done with dealing with me, and he’s ready to go.
“Nothing. I’m good. Thanks for bringing me home.” I smile up at him, but it’s forced, and he narrows his eyes at me, as if he knows it.
After staring at me for so long, I start feeling squirmy, he sighs. “I’ll check on you later.”
Kian glances around again, looking for something. Then he meets my gaze and walks toward me, leaning down to press a kiss to my forehead.
“Get some rest, Ace.”
When he turns and leaves my house, a lump forms in my throat.
“Bye, Daddy,” I whisper after he’s in his car.
And when I shut the door behind me and head toward the stairs, tears begin to roll down my cheeks.
I’m being emotional because I’m exhausted and out of it from the medication. Once I sleep and rest, I’ll feel better.
Running my tongue over my teeth, I grimace. First, shower and brush my teeth.
No wonder he wanted to get the hell out of here.
By the time I’m done with all of that, I can barely keep my eyes open as I pull on a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top, then fall into bed.
A familiar scent pulls me out of my slumber. For a second, I think I dreamed it, but the moment I open my eyes to look around my dimmed bedroom, I know I didn’t.
Sitting straight, I stare into the most brilliant blue eyes I’ve ever known.
“Luciano.”
Across the room, sitting in one of the two armchairs, he leans forward, his elbows on his knees and his fingertips pressed together as he stares at me.
“Who the fuck answered your phone earlier, Lacey?”