Troubled

"I asked you a question, and I want an answer." He growled.

I sighed and rolled my eyes.

"Listen, little boy, I don't know what you think happened last night, but you didn't sleep with me. Because I never give you a chance for pleasure, trust me." Ok, I was lying, I would have given him the pleasure, but he didn't need to know that.

He turned his head and stared at me narrowing his eyes.

"You drank yourself into oblivion at the club last night, and they kicked you out. I was walking outside when it happened and being the good person I am; I called a taxi 5o to make sure you got home safely. Then you proceeded to vomit all over yourself, so I had to get you to the bathroom and out of your clothes because frankly, you smelled." He raised his eyebrows.

"I was on my way out the door when I decided to check on you one more time. I went back to your room and you were lying on your back, so I rolled you on your side again in case you vomited and I would not have wanted you to choke to death." He shifted his weight and crossed his arms.

"Then I fell asleep from exhaustion after dealing with you, and when I woke up I decided to make you a pot of coffee and a hangover tea. I was leaving in a few minutes, and I did not expect you to be up for at least a few more hours." I explained.

He took a few steps closer.

"So, you're telling me nothing happened between us?"

I rolled my eyes, didn't this man listen to a word I just said.

"Yes, nothing happened. I just needed to make sure you were going to be ok since you were obnoxiously drunk," I looked down.

"What is this?" he asked as he picked up the glass.

"Just drink it, you will start to feel better in about 15 minutes. I'll pour you some coffee and be on my way."

I started to feel a little dizzy as I reached for a mug and it slipped out of my hands crashing to the floor.

"Damn!" I said as I bent down to pick up the broken pieces.

"Hey, you're going to cut yourself," he walked over to me and bent down.

"I'm sorry," I said shaking my head and picking up the broken porcelain.

"Stop!" his voice commanded.

His voice was startling, but I didn't listen because it was my mess and I was going to clean it up. He grabbed my hands and turned them overtaking the broken pieces out of them.

Our eyes met when he saw the scars on my wrists. I pulled back quickly and stood up. He continued to pick up the pieces. I took my purse from the counter.

"I'm sorry again for the mug. I'll replace it for you, and I hope you feel better." I turned and headed out of the kitchen.

"Wait," I heard him say.

I turned around and looked at him. "At least let me pay you for your trouble last night."

"I'm not taking your money, and it was no trouble."

Ok, it was, but he is alive, and I feel better knowing that I probably saved his life.

He rolled his eyes.

Then at least have a cup of coffee before you go." I sighed.