Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
“I have to go. He’s here,” I tell Ivy.
She makes a noise of protest. “No, no. Put him on the phone.”
My cheeks heat. Ivy has never once tried to embarrass me. She’s always been an amazingly supportive friend. “I’m not doing that!”
Roman gestures for the phone. He must have heard Ivy.
I pass him the phone, and he presses it to his ear. He doesn’t say anything. He grunts his agreement, even when she threatens to dismember him if he breaks my heart. By the time the call is over, my cheeks are flaming.
I bury my face in my hands. “I’m sorry about her.”
“I like that you have someone looking out for you.” He takes a seat on the coffee table in front of me. His big, jean-clad knees brush against my bare ones. “But now, we need to have a serious discussion. Why have you been bunking here some nights? Don’t give me any bullshit excuses. Blade told me that sometimes you’re staying in a hostel. What’s going on that you don’t have a place where you can lay your head at night?”
“If it’s time for a serious discussion, we need to talk about this too.” It’s my turn to scowl at him as I produce the starter relay for my car.
He doesn’t look guilty. He doesn’t try to deny it. Instead, he nods to the small black device. “Didn’t want you leaving last night.”
“You could have asked me to stay,” I point out. I didn’t tell Ivy about this because I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. I feel like I should be mad, but I’m not. I mean, I’ve been sneaking into this guy’s house for months.
He shrugs. “I wasn’t going to take a chance on you saying no. Now, tell me about the hostel.”
I think that Roman cares about me. At least, he seems concerned and other than Ivy, he’s the first person who’s worried about me in so long. Maybe that’s why it’s easy to forgive him for taking the starter relay. “My brother has been hosting his friends at our trailer. He’s running card games and stuff.”
He nods. A man with as much worldly experience as Roman has understands what I’m not saying. At this point, he’s probably heard the rumors that there’s always a game going at the edge of Courage County.
“They’re noisy, and it’s hard to sleep,” I explain.
He studies me intently, and I fight the urge to squirm underneath his gaze.
“That’s not all of it,” he insists.
I sigh. I should’ve known he wouldn’t let this go. “Some of his friends are opportunistic. My door rattles. No one has come in…” My voice trails off. I don’t want to contemplate what might happen if someone does.
Judging by the scowl on Roman’s face, neither does he. “Consider it handled.”
“I don’t want you to do anything.”
He shakes his head. “That’s not how this works.”
“How exactly does this work?” I emphasize the word. I’m still not even sure what we are or what he means by all of this.
“This is how it works. You have a problem, and I fix it. You have a need, and I provide for it. You have a want, and I do my damnedest to satisfy you.” It might be my imagination, but I think his gaze drops to my lips when he says that.
“I’m not some damsel in distress,” I protest. It’s never how I wanted him to see me. I’ve always wanted him to see me as a woman who could stand on her own, one who is fully capable of taking care of herself.
Even as I think those thoughts, I can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to be the one who gets taken care of. What would it be like to relax into Roman and lean on him? What would it feel like to know I had someone with me, someone who had my back and would help fight my battles?
“Never said you were,” he argues. “But I’m from a different generation, a generation that looks out for their women. I don’t believe in sitting by while my woman struggles.”
My woman. When he calls me that, a pull starts low in my belly.
“I have everything under control,” I whisper. It’s what I have to believe. I’ve fought so hard to be strong. And the thought that I don’t have to be strong—that I’ve found someone I can lean on—is overwhelming.
“It’s not about having everything under control,” Roman insists. “It’s about trusting me to take care of you. It’s about letting me be your man, the one to protect you and provide for you and cherish you.”
“That doesn’t come easy to me,” I admit.
Sadness flickers across his face. “No, I don’t imagine that it does.”
I feel like he’s seen too much of me. I feel too exposed. Last night, his tongue was all over my body and I didn’t feel half as vulnerable as I do in this moment. Needing to change the subject, I nod to his bookcase in the corner. “You read a lot.”