Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84670 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84670 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
“I’m sorry,” Rome whispered. “I didn’t mean to make you go through all this hassle with your job. Definitely never wanted you to quit. Do you want me to talk to your boss? Clear the air?”
“No. I…don’t regret the way things happened because it means we’re friends again, at the very least. The job…I need to think about.”
“Why does it sound like dating is something you need to think about too?”
“Because it’s the smart thing to do. Dating someone like you is a big deal. It comes with extra…things to consider.” I tried to explain while carefully skirting the term “baggage.” Shifting in my seat, I licked my lips, trying to properly organize my thoughts. “You have people trying to scam and use you for money. How are you sure that I’m not using you for money? Fuck, how do I keep from taking you for granted?”
“I trust you. I know you’re not.”
His words warmed me, but I still hesitated. “Rome…it’s been a lot this past month. Figuring out I’m not straight. Finding out what happened between us. Friends. Sex. My job. It’s overwhelming. And even though I’m so happy with you, I’m scared to go rushing into something that could be really fucking big with you.”
“You need space,” Rome mumbled.
“I know. So fucking lame.”
Rome offered me a weak smile. “Not lame. Smart. Way smarter than me. I know you’re the type who needs to sit down and think things out on their own. I’m the type to jump in without a single thought and then make a fucking mess.” He paused, his smile so sad. “But can you promise me something?”
“What?”
“When you walk out of here today, don’t let it be the last time I see you. Promise that if you decide you don’t want to date me, you’ll at least come see me one last time. Tell me to my face. I won’t fight you about it. I just…I don’t think I could take it if you disappear out of my life like the last time.” Rome’s voice cracked at the end, and my heart shattered.
Wrapping my hand around the nape of his neck, I jerked him in close and slammed my mouth over his. The kiss was rough and almost painful, but I didn’t want him hurting like this. It was almost impossible to keep myself from saying fuck it all. This space and time were absolutely necessary for my sanity. I wanted to do what was right for both of us.
“I’ll be back. I swear. No ghosting. No disappearing. I will be back.”
23
ROME ASHBRIDGE
To say I was pissed was an understatement.
I was pissed at Liam’s boss for putting him in such an awkward position.
But I was even more pissed at myself for not realizing how my stupid stunt was going to blow up in my face.
Liam didn’t seem to hold a grudge about the stunt and, in a way, appeared to even view it as a good thing. Maybe it had brought us together. I still held on to hope that we were gonna resume dating and possibly have that fairy-tale happily ever after my friends had already found, but Liam needed time and space. There was nothing I could do about that.
However, there was one mistake I could fix.
“Rome, you know I love playing the heavy for you,” Shonna said as she walked beside me, her heels clacking loudly across the pavement. “But you have to tell me now, if I am to consider this request for a donation seriously.”
I reached for the door, but stopped before my fingers brushed the handle, allowing my hand to drop to my side. It was a fair question. One I’d gone back and forth over for the past couple of days since Liam had told me what happened at work.
“Honestly, yes. It’s pretty much a rubber-stamp approval right now unless you see some major red flags.”
She lifted one slender, perfectly sculpted eyebrow at me and quirked his lips. “This isn’t some fly-by-night charity. We both know we’re not going to find that.”
“True. But I am pissed about how Liam’s boss handled things. She had every opportunity to ask Liam for an introduction or even my contact information. As penance, I want you to make her jump through every fucking hoop you’ve got.”
Shonna tipped her chin up, and the most wicked smile crossed her face. “That woman doesn’t know the hoops I’ve got lined up for her.”
And this was why I adored Shonna.
We entered the Cincinnati Museum Center together. My gait took on an extra stomp of determination. Shonna McCoy was an African goddess wrapped in Valentino. She’d served as the head of my charitable foundation for almost ten years, and she was my greatest protector in life. From a business point of view, she was my voice of reason, sanity, and conscience. More than once, she had to remind me that setting annual limits on donations meant that I would have money every year to give to the people who needed it.