Chapter Thirteen

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"I've had a couple of glasses

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"I've had a couple of glasses." I said in a hushed tone. "So, I don't really know if this is real, and if you're standing in front of me right now."

Dorian took a few steps towards me, closing the gap between us.

"Does this feel real?" He asked with a whisper. His lips pressed onto my cheek; I couldn't help close my eyes. I took in the smell of his cologne. God, why did he smell so good?

"Yes," I said, as his lips left me. "This feels real."

"Good," He said with that playful smirk on his lips. "How about we get you sobered up, hmm?"

I nodded in reply as he took hold of my hand.

"Lead the way Alena." He said. I followed his instructions and pulled Dorian's hand as the two of us climbed up the steps. As I stepped into the apartment, I noticed the plates, glasses, and the empty wine bottle left behind.

I looked over at Dorian, who had closed the door behind him and was now looking at me.

"I-"

"You-"

The both of us smiled.

"You go first," I said, forgetting what pathetic excuse I was going to say.

"You changed your hair." He spoke with a hushed tone.

I nodded in reply. He took a few steps forward, his finger pushing back the strands behind my ear.

"You look beautiful."

I could feel the rush of heat in my cheeks.

"Did you have company?" He asked, his voice curious. I could see the worry in his eyes.

"Beth came over."

"So, she's the one to blame for you being drunk?" He chuckled. The worry had instantly gone."

"Mmm... yes." I said with a soft smile.

"Do you have coffee?" Dorian asked, taking off his suit jacket. I noticed he wasn't wearing a tie and the top button of his shirt was undone. He still looked well put together, but there was a part of him that looked relaxed. He placed the jacket of the cream sofa arm and started to roll up the sleeves of his shirt.

I couldn't help but take in a sharp breath.

"Alena," He called out, a smile playing on his lips.

"In the kitchen," I said, heading straight there. I hated drunk me. Drunk me couldn't think straight, drunk me didn't think clearly, and drunk me was lonely or hot and bothered. I was the latter. Dorian made me hot and bothered. And if anything, I wanted him.

Now.

Here.

In my apartment.

I had to sober up.

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