by Alexis Anne
“Exactly. It was what I did. Except that I had to piecemeal everything together instead of it being offered in one easy to follow package.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” My heart ached for him and even though I knew deep down it wasn’t practical, I still wished things had been different.
“I pushed you away. I needed to do this on my own.”
I looked around the fitness room. “Well you’ve done well for yourself, Roman. Very well.”
That made him smile. “Building this was my therapy.”
“You might be giving me an inferiority complex, Roman. If this is what you do when you’re down I can’t imagine what you’re capable of when you’re up.”
He searched my eyes, looking for something. “I’m not a conqueror like my dad. I don’t want to be the biggest or the best. I’m not looking for my next great accomplishment. I just want to be happy.”
Ball players grow up hearing “Go big or go home” and it seemed it applied to everything when it came to Roman. “I’ve got to tell you, this giant rehabilitation center says otherwise.” I forced a smile onto my face in the hopes it would keep me from crying.
“This is what’s needed. Anything smaller—anything less—would have failed. Athletes are programmed to succeed and most of them don’t have anything else in their lives. They need a comprehensive rehabilitation process or they’ll just end up angry like our fathers.” He squeezed my arm. “June, I know you can see the potential. This is designed for athletes but it’s primed and ready to go for veterans, kids, so much more.”
It all clicked in my head. Roman had an even bigger vision, one that would continue to grow and change. “You use the money and the profile of professional athletes to create the model and money funnel,” I murmured as my mind started to spin.
“And a lot of those athletes are becoming our goodwill ambassadors. They’re giving back with their time and their money. They’re going out to fundraisers and finding us more donors. They’re talking us up on TV. And all of that is getting us even more interest. ESPN Films is interested.”
“That’s amazing. The stories that come out of here will inspire so many. I’m proud of you.”
“I thought of you the whole time. What will June think? How can I make this bigger and better so she’ll be impressed.”
“I’m very impressed.”
“Enough to fall in love with me?” He cupped my face then slid his fingers back until they tangled with the hair at the base of my neck, pausing for a moment to look into my eyes before he kissed me.
And I’m not talking any ordinary, chaste kiss. This was so much more. It was five years of missed kisses and a promise of a lifetime more. It was slow and hard. Desperate. I fell immediately under his spell, kissing him back with everything I had. He groaned as I slid closer, sliding my hands along his chest. His free hand rested gently on the small of my back, sending flutters into my belly. His tongue consumed me, stroking deeper as we found our way back to each other. It was every bit as easy as it was the first time and every time since.
That had to mean something, didn’t it? Comfort and trust never came easy to me but with Roman—the one man I should never trust—it always came without thinking.
“June,” he whispered between kisses, eyes screwed shut. “I fell in love with you in that dugout and I’ve never stopped. We weren’t ready five years ago but we are now.”
I fell in love with you. I fell in love with him too.
“It won’t be easy,” I whispered.
“Easy, hard, long, short, I don’t care what the process is.” He kissed me again and then leaned back. “As long as we end up together.”
20
Present Day, San Francisco
I shimmied into my robe and turned on some music. Music that was probably too loud considering the incessant knocking on my hotel room door. We’d had an early afternoon game on the road in San Francisco and I had the evening to myself. An evening I was planning on spending with room service and a book since I was exhausted.
But since I hadn’t ordered room service yet I assumed the person on the other side of my door was a disgruntled guest sick of listening to me sing The Weeknd lyrics—and not the clean version.
“June.”
I was wrong.
Oh, so wrong.
I stared open mouthed at a very handsome Roman on my doorstep. “How did? What? Where?” I couldn’t manage to string together a full sentence.
He grinned, looking entirely too handsome in his light blue suit with no tie. The top button was unbuttoned and all I could think about was undoing the rest.
Possibly with my teeth.
“The Giants center fielder is one of my guys. When you said you were on the road with the team for the rest of the week I took a look at my clients and decided a couple of them needed a visit.”
I leaned into the door. “Is that so?”
He shrugged, his suit moving in a very enticing way as his powerful shoulders flexed. “I mean, if it puts us in the same city at the same time, why not?”
“Do you want to come in? I was about to order room service. We could eat dinner together. Naked.”
His eyes dropped to my robe. “You’re naked under there aren’t you?”
I nodded.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as if he were steeling himself for battle. “I got us reservations.”
“You can cancel reservations, you know?”
“I want to take you out. We don’t get to do that in Tampa.”
I wasn’t sure how San Francisco was any different. “There are people who will recognize us here.”
“Not like back home. And I have a friend.”
“A friend?”
“It’s his restaurant and it’s not anywhere reporters or athletes are likely to be. We can have a nice dinner together. Like a real couple.”
“We’re a real couple.” At least it felt that way most of the time. There were still moments where it seemed more like we were pretending to be normal instead of actually being normal.
But practice makes perfect, right?
He stepped into me and ran his nose along mine. “I know.” Then he kissed me. “And that’s why I desperately want to take you out. I’m in this nice suit and I know you always pack a cocktail dress just in case.”
“Why do you want to go out so badly?” I whispered, my blood heating as I leaned into his body.
He searched my eyes. “Because I’m a man and believe it or not, I am still driven by some base instincts like wanting to appear in public with a beautiful woman he loves.”
Loves. Roman hadn’t shied away from the word at all, but he was careful not to say it explicitly. And I hadn’t said it to him.
“You want to go to dinner so you can show me off?”
He kissed me once on the lips. “You’re right. Sometimes this doesn’t feel real. If we walk out all dressed up and spend an evening flirting and laughing for real people to see us in a nice restaurant,” he shrugged, “I don’t know. Maybe that feeling will finally go away.”
I had to admit it sounded like a lot of fun. Dive restaurants and local favorites were nice, but it wasn’t the same as a fancy date night out. “Okay. Would you like to come in and watch me get ready?”
“No,” he mouthed as he shook his head. “You know if I do that we won’t go to dinner. I’ll meet you downstairs.”
“Okay. I’ll be down in twenty minutes.”
He kissed me again—this time slowly. “I’ll be waiting.”
It took me almost exactly twenty minutes to dry my hair, brush on some makeup and slide into my favorite black sheath dress. It didn’t wrinkle so it made a great travel dress. I kept it rolled and in my carry-on for nights like this.
Okay, that was a lie. I’d most certainly never had a night like this. The dress was for last second invites to a fancy team dinners or meeting up with friends. Never a date.
And never one with Roman.
I ca
ught his eye at the bar as I stepped out of the elevator. He gave me a nod indicating he’d meet me outside. Since I was staying in the team hotel there were baseball players and reporters lurking, it was safer.
There was even another agent who spotted me just before I reached the spinning door.
“June! Hey, glad I caught you.” Trevor Williams was a nice guy. A couple of years older than me but solidly in my dating pool. He’d asked me out twice and I’d turned him down twice.
“How can I help you, Trevor?” I glanced outside to see Roman watching us. His expression was blank.
“Steve Michaels? How’s his shoulder looking?”
So this was about a client. I instantly relaxed. “We’re monitoring the tear but he insists on playing out the season.”
He grimaced. “He’s being ridiculous.”
“He’s being a ballplayer. He’s afraid if he goes on the disabled list he won’t come off.”
“And by not getting this fixed he’s ensuring this is his last season.”
I’d seen it time and time again. A player would rather blow out his entire arm finishing his last season than stop and get it repaired. “There’s nothing I can do. He’s healthy enough to play.”
“If he gets the surgery, would he be able to keep playing.”
I glanced back outside at Roman. He never came back from his injury and he was young and healthy. Steve was thirty and had been playing since tee ball. “I can’t say for sure.”
“Which is code for ‘no’ isn’t it?”
“I’ll say this, there’s no predicting the outcome. I’ve seen guys come back from an injury like this and play five more years. I’ve also seen guys who were done. Where’s he at on his contract?”
Trevor winced. “I think that’s why he’s pushing so hard. He can’t get traded at this point. His kids are in school and his wife has already said she won’t move again.”
I knew this part of the life all too well. “I feel for him. Truly I do.”
“That’s why I’m glad you’re on his case. If there’s anyone who understands, it’s you.”
“You be his agent, I’ll be his trainer. Between the two of us we’ll get him through.” I was lying through my teeth. One wrong move and he was done forever.
But it wasn’t my decision. It was Steve’s.
“Thanks.” Then he looked me over. “Oh my goodness. I’m such an ass. You’re on your way out.”
“It’s okay.”
“Still,” he blushed, looking away, “I won’t keep you. Thanks for the information.”
I gave his arm a squeeze. “Have a good night, Trevor.”
When I stepped outside into the warm summer night of San Francisco, with its tall buildings and sloping hills, I didn’t know what to expect of my night, and I really liked that feeling. Too much of my life had become stagnant. Moving through my days out of habit instead of motivation.
Slipping my hand into the crook of Roman’s arm, feeling his warmth and strength hidden beneath this suit, I felt alive.
But the man beside me was unusually quiet. “Something on your mind?”
He shortened his stride to match mine. “Trevor likes you.”
Oh. “He does.”
“Have you ever dated him?” His words were even. Careful. Jealous but not angry.
It was sweet, in a way.
“No. He’s asked me out and I’ve always declined.”
“Why?”
I shrugged. “Because I knew it wouldn’t go anywhere so why string him along?”
Roman seemed to consider that. “How do you know there isn’t more there? If you’ve never given him a chance . . . ” He let the words fall away.
The sound of car engines bounced off the buildings, filling the silent moments. “Do you really want to do this tonight?”
“Do what?”
I paused again, searching for the most diplomatic way to say it. “Talk about our exes. It’s bound to ruin our fun and I don’t want to do that.”
He stopped and pulled me over by a tree, out of the way of the other pedestrians. “It’s eating me alive.”
“What is?”
He cocked his head to the side. “Not knowing what you’ve done for the last five years.”
“You mean who I’ve done.”
“No,” he pulled me against him and dropped his voice to a whisper, “don’t put words in my mouth.” His hand on my hip tensed before dropping away. “I’m curious. Why you said no to a great guy like Trevor and yes to me.”
I studied him for a second, taking in this new side of Roman. There was a glimmer of doubt running underneath his usual confidence. Seeing me with Trevor had rocked him. So I treaded carefully forward.
“My general rule of thumb is to only date men when I see a future. Trevor is a great guy but I’m not attracted to him. I don’t feel anything when I’m with him. No night of dinner and cocktails is going to change that.”
“What about a night with me?”
I closed my eyes as he kissed me softly on the lips. I never wanted him to stop. We were out in nice clothes in a city that was bustling around us. We were walking and kissing—all out it public. Maybe if I kept my eyes closed we could stay in this moment forever.
Unfortunately the man I wanted to keep kissing wanted an answer. He pulled back just enough to ask me again with his eyes. What about a night with me?
“A night with you might just ruin me, Roman St. James.”
“Ruin you?” he whispered between kisses. Kisses that were growing rougher and deeper each time our lips met.
“I fall a little harder every time we’re together.”
He rested his forehead against mine. I relished the intimacy of the gesture. It demanded my attention to the way his touch made me feel. A kiss without kissing.
And then he said the one thing I’d been waiting to hear. “I love you, June.” He opened his eyes. “I’ve tried being methodical and distancing myself from those words but I can’t. When we’re together,” his hand cupped my neck, “I get lost in you. And June?”
My heart thudded in my chest. “Yes?”
“I don’t want to be found by anyone but you ever again.”
I tried to stop the freight train of emotions but I couldn’t. There was no control when I was with him. I was instinct and fire—and it felt amazing.
So amazing I never wanted it to stop. So I leapt.
“I love you, too.”
He stopped breathing and when I opened my eyes I found him staring at me. “Say it again.”
“I love you, too.” Saying it when I could feel him inside and out was an out of body experience from the way it took my breath away to the tingles that shot across my skin.
“Yeah,” he murmured, his eyes dropping to my lips, “it’s even better when you say it with your eyes open.”
“Is it?”
“It goes from being a dream to being real. So, yeah, it’s kind of incredible.” Then his lips were on mine again, kissing away every doubt lurking in the back of my mind.
In the next epic step in turning my relationship with Roman into the real deal, we accepted a dinner invitation from his boss.
Meaning we were having dinner with Marie and Greg.
The people also known as my extended family.
With my permission, Roman had broken the news to Marie who immediately demanded we come over for dinner. It took a little finagling to get us all in the same place at the same time, but we did it.
“Eve still isn’t speaking to you?” I asked over my pasta.
“She is,” Marie replied slowly, “she just isn’t as friendly and forthcoming as she usually is.”
“Jake is pissed at her,” Greg tossed out in his usual no-holds-barred manner. “He’s being reasonable at least.”
“And this is why we haven’t said anything yet. If Eve is still fuming then she’s also not going to hear anything but enemy and traitor if we tried.” I almost lost my appetite but the pasta was so delicious I couldn’t
stop. I was pretty sure Marie put some sort of magical fairy dust in with the cheese.
“You can’t put it off too long or they’ll be mad at you for keeping it from them,” Marie sighed. “You’re damned if you do, damned if you don’t.”
Roman reached over for my hand, snagging my fingers and lacing them together. “No, we’re happy and when they’re ready to see the truth we’ll talk, until then we’re going to concentrate on being us.”
“You’re really fucking cute together,” Greg said between bites. “Seriously. I like you both.” He slammed his fork down. “Scratch that. I love you both. I don’t know what I’ll do when Natalie brings home her first mistake but I’ve always known that I’d treat June just like Natalie. And I’ve never wanted to introduce you to my fist. Not even for a second.” Then he picked up his fork and went right back to eating.
It was Greg’s way of saying Roman was treating me well. It just came out in swear words and veiled threats of physical violence.
Marie rolled her eyes. “My husband, ladies and gentlemen.”
Roman slow clapped. “I’ve always been a fan of your ability to use visual imagery mixed with terms of endearment, without actually saying anything nice.”
Greg grinned. “And this is why we immediately got on. You get me.”
The rest of dinner was mostly spent talking about happier things like Roman’s coffee habits in the office. Apparently he can’t stand it when there is an empty pot, so half the staff secretly tries to keep the pot empty just to make him mad.
“It makes no sense,” he grumbled. “Everyone likes coffee. Why use coffee as a joke?”
But that only made Marie laugh harder. “Because you’re so dejected every time you find the pot empty. It’s almost like a weekly soap opera of our very own. What will Roman do this week when he finds the pot empty? Tune in Thursday.”
“So it’ll be Thursday this week? Is that what you’re telling me?”
After we cleared our dishes to the kitchen they invited us into the living room for wine, but we didn’t get that far.
Oh no.
We got a surprise before the last drop was poured.
Jake’s voice came calling from the front door. “Knock, knock,” he said really loudly. “You have company.”
