Chapter 17
Myra’s hand trembled slightly as she fumbled around in Tony’s pockets. The warmth of his thighs made her feel oddly aware of the situation, but she pushed aside any discomfort and focused on finding the keys. Her face flushed with embarrassment, not knowing whether it was from the fever or the awkwardness of the moment. Despite her careful attempts to avoid touching him, the shape of his muscles was undeniable, and she couldn’t help but feel the heat radiating from him.
The more she searched, the more her shyness overwhelmed her, and her breathing grew shallow. Her cheeks burned, and every touch felt like it heightened her sense of unease. When she finally switched sides to search the other pocket, the angle was awkward, and it took several tries before she found what she was looking for. Just as she retrieved the keys, she noticed Tony’s body tense for a split second. Was it just her imagination, or had he noticed? She exhaled sharply, feeling both flustered and relieved.
With a quick glance at Tony’s sleeping form, Myra couldn’t help but admire his handsome features. Even in sleep, his sharp, rugged face seemed softer, and there was an air of gentleness about him. She muttered to herself, thinking about what Tilly would say if she ever found out about the situation.
“If Tilly knew about tonight, I bet I’ll never hear the end of it.”
She unlocked the door and helped Tony into the apartment. The spacious two-story place was tidy, clean, and plainly decorated. The decor was sleek and modern with a monochrome color palette—clear signs of Tony’s solitary lifestyle. No personal touches were visible, no stray hairs or traces of another woman’s presence. Myra found it a bit surprising, given what she knew of men in his social circle. They often had messy personal lives, like Sean and his friends, but Tony’s place suggested otherwise. It was as though he had kept his life well-contained, free from complications.
She placed Tony on the couch and, after wiping the sweat from her forehead, made her way to the kitchen. The fridge was well-stocked, and without hesitation, Myra quickly prepared some broth. She remembered how, after marrying Sean, she’d made it a point to learn how to cook. Now, in this moment, the familiar motions of preparing food felt oddly comforting.