Tuesday July 13th
3 Days Later

The drive to Tijuana was a long one. Just like the drive to New Orleans, it gave us a chance to stop at a few places along the way to do some sightseeing. The first stop we made was San Antonio, Texas. It took about ten hours to get there from New Orleans. That's including a couple bathroom and food breaks. But Lydia was a champ and drove the whole way. That was my teasing punishment for her little remark about all the stuff I bought for her and, unfortunately, returned to keep my word.

Once we got to San Antonio, we immediately checked into the hotel and both crashed in our separate rooms. We spent most of Sunday driving around as we visited the Alamo and the San Antonio Zoo, which Lydia really enjoyed. Then we left after having dinner at the San Antonio Riverwalk.

The eight-hour drive to El Paso, TX was a bitch, unfortunately. Since we left San Antonio around 5pm, we didn't end up getting there until almost 4am. I drove the whole way while Lydia slept soundly in the passenger seat. The following morning, per Lydia's request, we went to the El Paso Museum of Art and the Holocaust Museum. Ever since she told me her dream was to be a painter, she seemed to be opening up more about that. As we walked through the museum, she pointed to different paintings and told me their history. I had to admit, I was extremely impressed.

When we left El Paso, we drove 5 hours to Tucson, Arizona where we arrived just in time to check into a hotel and get a good night's sleep. The following morning it was my turn to convince her to go with me to see the Cactus Garden and the Old West Exhibit. Let's just say, Lydia was not a fan of the desert. After a couple hours, we made the final seven-hour drive to Tijuana. I was surprised when Lydia told me she did have a passport. One less thing we had to worry about when we crossed the border.

Which brings us to our current predicament as we were standing at the check-in counter of Hotel Lucerna.

"I'm sorry, sir. It's a busy time for us so we only have one room available tonight," the concierge said to me with a regretful expression.

I let out a long breath and looked over to Lydia who was standing next to me. "What do you think? Do you want to go somewhere else?"

"It's fine. I mean we're here already."

I'm surprised she agreed to it, but if she was cool with it, I was cool with it. "Alright. One room, please."

I can be cool with this, I thought. Yeah, good luck with that, my inner voice contradicted.

8:56pm Tuesday July 13th
Menealo Night Club, Tijuana

"I want another shot!" Lydia yelled to the bartender over the loud music of the club.

I was surprised when she said she wanted to come here. I didn't mind and when I asked her, she said she wanted to let loose tonight. With Lydia, I had no idea what that meant. But right now, she was five shots deep, and seemed to be having a blast.

I, on the other hand, decided to remain sober tonight. After what happened in New Orleans, I was a little hesitant to be drinking. Besides, if Lydia wanted to get drunk tonight, it was probably smart for me not to. Not only did one of us need to drive, but the idea of having both of our inhibitions lowered was not good.

So, here I was, sitting on a bar stool eating peanuts and pretzels as I watched her throwback another shot, and I couldn't hide the smile on my face as she closed her eyes tight from the strong taste of the liquor as it went down her throat.

She put the shot glass back on the bar before looking from the dance floor to me. "Wanna dance?"

I did, actually. But not quite yet. Leaning up to her ear I said, "How about you go dance and I'll join you in a little bit."

She gave me a sultry smile before going onto the dance floor. I leaned back against the bar and took another sip of my bottled water. I had no idea why, but I just wanted to watch her for a few minutes. It could be the feelings that I'm trying to pretend I didn't have for her, or the fact that seeing her like this was a far cry from the girl I met on the 4th of July. As the days went on it was like she was becoming more of herself. Her true self.

I watched her dance to the music in awe. She was wearing a pair of black jeans, a dark blue spaghetti strap shirt and a pair of black heels. I never pictured her as the high heel wearing type, but apparently, she ended up liking them and bought some for herself. I wasn't complaining. High heels were hot.

She was wearing her hair down tonight, and as she ran her hands over it while she danced, I remembered the way it felt when I ran my fingers through it the night on the balcony. The night I had kissed her and it seemed like time stood still. My goal at the time was to draw Amy out. I was frustrated as hell and wanted that over with. But, when my lips met hers and she responded to me, I didn't care about Amy anymore. Everything seemed to get back to normal after our "talk" that night in New Orleans. Well aside from the fact that I seem to be replaying that kiss over and over again in my mind. Not to mention, her admission that she's never been kissed like that. I liked knowing I'm the only one who has and it made a satisfied feeling come over me.

As she did another seductive dance move, the need to touch her had me getting up from the bar. When I took a step towards her, I stopped when I saw a guy come up to her. I watched as he said something in her ear. She smiled and said something back, but I had no idea what it was. She turned away from him and he reached for her arm. When I could tell she was getting uncomfortable and the guy wouldn't stop, I saw red.

I made a beeline to Lydia and put myself between her and the stranger. He immediately got in my face; it was obvious he wanted to fight. Lydia was saying something behind me in slurred words, but I didn't hear her.

I gave him a dead stare straight in the eye and said, "She's with me. And before you say anything, before you try anything, take a look at the clothes I'm wearing. Take a look at the watch I have on." The guy looked me up and down, and I saw his eyebrows raise slightly as he saw my point. "That's right. I have a lot of money, which means I have a lot of lawyers. If you rather not end up in jail after I dig into your shady life, I suggest back up and walk away."

The man gave me a sneer before he took my advice. When I saw him disappear into the club, I turned to Lydia and looked at her with concern. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Thank you."

"Do you want to go back to the hotel?"

She gave me a smile before she wrapped her arms around my neck. She leaned forward and put her mouth to my ear. "No, you still owe me a dance."

A shiver went down my spine at her words. Ignoring my inner voice, I wrapped my arms around her waist almost automatically. Against my will, my body started moving with hers to the tempo of the music.

I sucked in a sharp breath when she locked her hands around my neck. She was clearly hammered and didn't notice the effect she had on me. Good, I thought. It's better this way.

She unlinked her hands from around my neck and turned around. Her back was to me and when she leaned back against me, I stifled my groan. She leaned her head back against my shoulder and I tried to ignore the smell of her lavender shampoo. When it became too much for me, I took her by the hand and gave her a twirl before pulling her back towards me.

The smile she had on her face would bring any man to his knees.

I'm in deep shit.

When we pulled up to the hotel I sighed as I looked at Lydia in the passenger seat. She passed out on the way back and I didn't want to disturb her. I walked over to her side of the car and opened the door. I looked at her for a moment, before I picked her up and carried her to the room. She rested her head in my neck and I closed my eyes, trying not to think about it.

When we were finally in the room, I laid her gently on the bed before removing her high heels. After covering her with a blanket, I turned and shrugged out of my black tailored Armani jacket.

"Sean?" She called from the bed.

"Yeah?" I asked as I looked back at her.

"Won't you come lay next to me?"

That was the same question I asked her when I was drugged the other night. I cleared my throat and went to lay beside her. She held up the blanket and I shook my head. "I stay on top." Damn straight, my inner voice snapped at me.

Once I got comfortable on my back, she turned on her side to face me. "Thank you for taking me out tonight. I had a lot of fun," she said with slurred words.

I grinned as I said, "You're welcome. Although, you'll probably have a bitching hangover tomorrow."

When she reached out and traced the outline of my lips, it felt like my heart stopped. "Sometimes, when you smile like that, I get butterflies." She frowned and dropped her hand on my chest before saying, "Shit. I wasn't supposed to tell you that."

A small laugh escaped me at her statement. She held my gaze for a few minutes before her eyes got heavy with sleep. Once her breathing became even, I let out a long breath...and laid my hand on hers.