Page 3 of Trading In A Broken Heart

I was taken aback with how he was speaking to me. I had every right to slap that stiff-ass face of his. I couldn’t lie. Savion was fine as hell. Normally, I liked my men chocolate, but this caramel nigga was giving me a run for my money. He gave off sexy nerd. Like a nigga that’d be hiding behind a computer screen all day long. His waves were the darkest and deepest I’d seen in a while. His tattoo-painted body was what gave off bad boy. I’d never been attracted to a man in glasses before, but . . .

“Solei!” I heard Imani’s voice from behind me. When I turned around, I saw there were two other Tahoes parked back there by the jet, which they were loading our luggage into.

I took one final look at Savion, who was already halfway into the truck. Shaking my head, I went over to where the girls were and got inside.

“Who was that?” Imani questioned me. Hoped she wasn’t getting her hopes up.

“Nobody,” I replied.

* * *

The truck pulled up to the hotel that we were gon’ be staying at. I already called ahead of time and booked everyone’s rooms. This trip was one of the wedding gifts that I was giving my girl. She deserves the world. Imani has been holding me down ever since I was in middle school. This was practically my person. She knew me better than anyone in the entire world. Ma didn’t even know me as well. This was my diary. My best friend. My sister. Anything her heart desired, I made it happen.

The driver opened the door for us, and I climbed out first. “I’m gonna go check us in,” I told her and strutted into the hotel. It was gorgeous—MGM. The building was tall as hell with a big-ass water fountain in front of it. I entered the building. People were floating through the lobby. The desk was empty, which meant that I wouldn’t have to wait in line to check us in. We had a total of five rooms. Imani and I had our own rooms, of course.

“Hey,” I said once I stepped to the desk. “I’m checking in. The name is Solei Saint⁠—”

“Can I get the key to my room?” A familiar masculine voice cut me off. I turned and saw rude-ass Savion standing there like he owned the fucking place.

“Ugh. Excuse you. I was here before you. You can go stand your ass in line and wait ’til I’m done.”

He didn’t even bother to look in my direction. He just kept staring at the woman behind the desk, who cut her eyes in my direction and then reached for a key card. When she handed it in his direction, I snatched it. “I was here before him. He can wait. My name is Solei Saint-Mercier.” I folded my arms over my chest and mugged her down. This bitch had me fucked up.

“Yes, ma’am,” was all she said before she got to typing on the counter.

“Are you gon’ hand me my fucking key, or do I have to take it from you?”

Shifting all my weight to my right side, I said, “I’d like to see you try.”

His jaw muscle tensed. Savion reached in my direction, and I immediately barked at him. That was right . . . I barked at his ass as if I was a fucking dog, and he jumped because I knew it caught him off guard.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he asked. I could feel everyone in the lobby staring at us.

“You wanted attention, and now you got it.”

“Here you go, Ms. Saint-Mercier. Sorry about that,” the receptionist said as she handed me over all my key cards. “The ones on top are the two presidential suites.”

“Now, you can help him,” I tossed over my shoulder and strutted off. Bitch.

Opening the shower door, I grabbed my towel off the hook and wrapped it around my waist. My hand swiped the residue off the mirror where I could slightly see my reflection. My phone buzzed on the counter. It’d been vibrating ever since I stepped in the shower. My ears perked at a sound coming from the front of the suite.

Exiting the bathroom, I slid my strap off the nightstand next to the bed and crept out of the room. Housekeeping wasn’t coming at this time of night. Somebody had to be breaking in, and I was about to send their ass straight to hell. My gun was already drawn before I fully came into view.

“Why the fuck are you in my room?” Solei questioned me. She stood there in front of the door with her pumps in her hand. My eyes immediately zoomed to her feet. Blood oozed from the side of her right foot. Her lipstick smudged a bit on the corner of her mouth, and her hair drastically needed to be brushed. “Didn’t your daddy ever tell you to not pull a gun on somebody unless you gon’ use it? Get that shit out my face.”

She stumbled a bit. I rushed over to her and removed her shoes from her grip and said, “Sit down.”

“Nigga, you don’t tell me what to do. You still ain’t told me why you’re in my room.”

Gripping her by the forearm, I pulled her over to the couch and pushed her down. “You’re in my room,” I corrected her.

“No, I ain’t. See.” She lifted her key card up in the air.

“That’s my fucking key card you took earlier.” I trotted down the hallway to the bathroom to see if they had a first aid kit in there so that I could clean her foot.

I couldn’t find one, so I grabbed a rag, wet it, picked up one of my T-shirts, and went back into the living room. Solei had her phone up to her gorgeous-ass face. The light hit her at the perfect angle. I couldn’t even lie. Solei was beautiful as hell. That milk chocolate complexion made me weak. It wasn’t even her beauty that was attracting me to her right now. It was her mouth. Her fearlessness. She didn’t care that I had a gun pulled on her; she was still talking her shit.

I sat on the coffee table in front of her. Solei’s dark eyes shifted over her phone at me. “Why are you in my face?” The alcohol radiated off her breath.