Page 8 of Inadmissible

Tristan

“ M m.”

The sound of a tired moan gained my attention.

I turned and looked at the woman who was clearly drunk as she rocked back and forth on the bar stool.

The man trying to make his way between her legs was grinning a little bit too hard for my liking.

His smile was sinister, and by the way she kept weakly pushing him back and trying to close her legs, it didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on.

“Why you acting like this, baby?” he asked, trying to grip and spread her legs again.

“I don—k-know you,” she slurred before her head bobbed forward.

“You do know me, darling. I brought you here. Remember?”

“Aye,” I called, gaining his attention. His eyes immediately widened as he took a step away from her. “Excuse me,” I called softly, hoping that would be enough to get her to focus on me.

“Hmm?” Her head tilted back, and glossy, low eyes looked back at me. They were a beautiful, shiny brown.

“Do you know this man?”

Her head shook as she frowned. “I-I got a little too drunk.”

“That’s okay, sweetheart,” I assured her. “Do you have a room here?”

“Mhm.” When she pointed toward the crossbody bag that was wrapped around her, I opened it and got her card out. I kept the envelope that had her room number inside.

“I’m going to help you get safely to your room, okay?”

“Yeesss, sir,” she slurred, and for some reason, that made me chuckle.

The man was still standing there, as if he thought there was a chance I was going to let him take her anywhere. The only reason I didn’t haul off and punch his ass was because security was right by the entrance of the hotel bar.

“You really thought you were going to take this woman out of here? And do what? Rape her?” I asked, stepping into his space.

As much as I didn’t want to come out of character, I popped him in his mouth.

It wasn’t hard enough to do too much damage, but it was enough to make him stumble back and realize I was serious.

“Argh,” he roared, blood instantly dripping over his teeth. “Nah, man. It’s my bad. I got her confused with someone else.”

“But you said you brought her here, so how did you confuse her with someone else?” I asked, gripping the collar of his shirt when he tried to step back.

I used my free hand to wave the security guard down.

“You lucky I care about my reputation. Otherwise, I’d cut your fucking hands off and make sure you never touched a woman again. ”

“Is there a problem here, Tristan?” Sam asked.

“Yeah. He was trying to take this girl out of the bar and she’s clearly drunk. She has no idea who he is.”

“I’ll take it from here. Thanks.”

With a nod, I watched as Sam led him out of the bar. I told the bartender to have my and her drinks put on my room tab before helping her off the bar.

“Uh oh.” She giggled when she stumbled, then grabbed her forehead. “I didn’t know those drinks were so strong.”

“It’s alright, sweetheart. I got you.”

I picked her up and carried her to the elevator, where we headed to the sixth floor.

She smelled so good I had to hold my breath.

A good smelling woman was my weakness, and it was even worse when she was beautiful and dressed well.

This beauty checked all the marks, and she had the nerve to be thick as fuck too.

“Mm,” she moaned again, and when I saw her swallow, I knew what that meant.

“Can you wait until we get to your room to throw up, sweetheart? We’re literally about to get off the elevator now.”

“I-I can try,” she whined, tightening her grip around my neck. When she rested her temple against mine, that shit made my heart skip a beat. I would admit I’d do something like this for any woman in need, but there was something about this woman that made me feel weak.

Once the elevator doors opened, I quickly made my way down the hall in search of room 616.

“Mister,” she called, wiggling against me. “I don’t t-think I can hold it much longer.”

“Oh shit,” I groaned, doubling my steps. I set her on her feet and quickly unlocked the door, and she wasted no time sideways stepping toward the bathroom. The door hadn’t even closed good before I heard her throwing up. “Damn,” I muttered, taking slow steps in her direction.

I could admit Monica had a heavy pour, but it also seemed like baby girl wasn’t really a drinker. As she hugged the toilet, I pulled her wavy hair up and out of the way as she emptied the contents of her stomach.

“Oh God. This is so embarrassing,” she complained before regurgitating again.

“On the bright side, your voice sounds clearer and stronger already. You need to get that shit out and sleep so you can sober up.”

She groaned, and as much as I didn’t want to laugh at her expense, I chuckled.

I held her hair and rubbed her back until she was done throwing up.

After she flushed the toilet, she wiped her face, and I helped her stand.

Her bags were in the bathroom in the bedroom, so I followed her back there.

As soon as I saw her reach for her toothbrush, I knew she wasn’t a real drinker.

“Uh, you might not want to do that, sweetheart. Not while your stomach is still fucked up.”

“But my mouth tastes nasty.”

Laughing, I ran my pointer finger and thumb down the corners of my mouth to try and cut it off. “I know, but you need to wait, honey. I would recommend swishing some mouthwash around for right now.”

“Yes, sir,” she agreed, chucking the toothbrush back in the cup before reaching for the mouthwash. When she started to push her dress down, I told my brain to move my feet, but they were planted. Shaking my head, I went to her aid when she stumbled and almost fell.

“Here, let me help.”

I pushed her bra straps back up, then pulled the dress down.

With careful concentration, I kept my eyes on her feet as she stepped out of the dress and groaned.

I couldn’t imagine how horrible she felt, and I wanted to try and put her out of her misery as quickly as I could.

After helping her slide out of her heels, I picked her back up and carried her to bed.

My hands made quick work of pulling the covers up her curvaceous body so I wouldn’t risk sneaking a peek.

“Is there anyone I can call for you, sweetheart?”

Sniffling, she shook her head with a pout. “I’ll be fine, mister. Thanks.”

“Okay,” I replied with a smile before putting her on her side. “Try and lay like this in case you throw up again, okay? I don’t want you to choke in your sleep.”

“What’s your name?” she asked, eyes drifting closed already.

“Tristan. What’s your name?”

Her answer? Heavy breathing as she fell asleep.

I stood there for a while, memorizing her features.

That led to me sitting in the recliner across from the bed for about an hour, just watching her sleep.

I wanted to make sure she didn’t throw up again and choke herself, but I also felt protective and possessive of her in this moment.

Eventually, I forced myself to leave. I went back to the living room area of her suite and grabbed a Gatorade and two pack of Tylenol from the mini bar, then put them on the nightstand by the bed along with a twenty dollar bill in case she didn’t want to pay for anything in the mini bar.

After one last glance, I left her alone and prayed she’d never get that drunk alone again.

The Next Morning

She’d been on my mind all night. So much so that as soon as I woke up, I handled my hygiene and went straight to her room.

When I got no answer, I wondered if she was still sleep or if she’d checked out.

The housekeeper answered my initial question when she went in and my sweetheart was nowhere to be found.

I made my way down to the main floor and considered if I wanted to have breakfast or not.

Since I couldn’t find and check on her, a part of me wanted to take my ass back to sleep.

“Good morning, Mr. Pierce.” Yolanda, the front desk clerk, spoke.

“Good morning, Yolanda. How are you?”

“Good, thank you. I have something for you.”

As I walked over to the counter, she pulled out a gift card and handwritten letter. “What’s this?” I asked, looking at the gift card.

“One of the guests left that for you. She said you helped her last night, and she wanted to thank you.”

I couldn’t stop my smile from forming as I looked over the gift card to the hotel spa once more. Then, I shifted my attention to the letter.

My Angel,

You saved me. I don’t know what would have happened to me yesterday if you weren’t there.

As you may have noticed, I’m not a heavy drinker.

I usually only drink tequila and champagne and I know my limit with those.

Yesterday, I tried something new, and it was so sweet I forgot it had liquor in it, haha.

Nevertheless, thank you. I know you weren’t expecting to carry a woman around the hotel, so I hope the massage at the spa expresses my gratitude along with the actual words.

Thank you for taking care of me, making me feel safe, and reminding me there are still good, trustworthy men out there when I needed it most.

Your Sweetheart

I didn’t realize how hard I was smiling until Yolanda cooed then laughed.

Giving her a dismissive wave, I headed toward the restaurant with a bit more pep in my step.

I would have preferred her name so I could look her up, but Sweetheart would do.

Maybe she didn’t need a man pursuing her right now.

Maybe all she needed was what I gave—a reminder.

Either way, she’d made a lasting impression on me, and there was no doubt in my mind I’d recognize her if I ever saw her again.