The-Spanish-Love-Deception-www.indianpdf

C H A P T E R N I N E T E E N
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or anyone witnessing my foolish attempts at reaching the
bedroom, it would have been pretty obvious that I was about
to face-plant on the floor. And they wouldn’t be wrong. It was
a wonder I was able to move at all, considering my feet barely lifted off the
ground with all the dragging they had been carrying out.
Ironically, and contrary to the story my body told, I didn’t think I had
ever felt more awake than I did as I crossed the threshold of that door.
My head was working at full speed. Processing everything Aaron had told
me about his past. I kept spinning and turning even the tiniest pieces of
information until I was completely sure I had them pinned down securely so
they wouldn’t flee my memory.
Never mind that my legs wobbled with every step I took and exhaustion
throbbed through my body. Aaron’s confession—because it had felt like he
was unveiling something he had kept guarded and locked away from sight—
had created a little riot in my head.
And my chest. Definitely my chest too. The organ that resided there had
constricted and squeezed, and I was still trying to come to terms with the fact
that I wasn’t supposed to feel that way. Or to act on it. A part of me missed
being drunk or tipsy enough not to care, but after all the water Aaron had
insisted on me gulping down and the fact that I hadn’t touched a drink after
we went back inside the infamous bar, I didn’t have the luxury of that excuse
anymore. It was past five in the morning, and the effect of the alcohol had
faded to a very low buzz that indicated tomorrow wasn’t going to be much
fun.
I didn’t realize I had been standing in the middle of the bedroom, staring