by Linda Verji
“Then who do - do you share them with?” April stumbled over her words.
“Only my friends and my girlfriends.”
April set her elbow on the table and propped her head on her palm as she smiled at Javier. “Can I be your friend?”
The glazed, flirtatious look she gave Javier sent red hot anger scorching through Roman. For a minute, he seriously considered just heaving her onto his shoulders and hauling her away. Where were the caveman days when you needed them?
Javier shook his head. “I have enough friends.”
April made a face. “I suppose you have enough girlfriends too.”
“A man can never have enough girlfriends.” Javier waggled his eyebrows suggestively. If Roman had his way, he would’ve plucked those eyebrows straight off the man’s face and sent them to hell ahead of their owner.
“In – interesting!” April slurred. When she reached for her glass again, Roman snatched it off the table. Anger flashed in her glazed eyes. “Hey! Give that back.”
“You’ve had enough,” he bit through his teeth.
“Who s-says?” April glared at him.
“C’mon man, let the lady have her fun.” Javier came to her defense.
Fuck you! Only a fragment of rationality kept Roman from saying the words out loud. But he couldn’t help giving the younger man a sharp glare before he turned back to April. “You’re already drunk.”
“I’m not-not-” She stopped speaking and heaved, then heaved again.
“She’s gonna blow,” Javier screeched as he backed his chair away from her.
Roman started, “Ap-” but before he could finish the sentence, she stood and raced towards the restrooms. Roman only stopped to grab her purse before he hurried after her.
It didn’t matter that it was the ladies’ room or that a group of women were just exiting it, he needed to make sure she was okay. Panic rocketing through him, Roman skirted the surprised ladies and entered the restroom. Unlike most public restrooms, this space was just as luxurious and chic as the rest of Nox. The trendy restroom was all white marble, off-white concrete walls and doors, laminate flooring, designer accessories and gold-coated sink basins and faucets. There were even flower arrangements on the counter and custom artwork on the walls.
Roman didn’t need to search for April; her loud heaving led the way to the last stall. The door was wide open, revealing April. She was on one knee, her head bowed over the toilet bowl, with one hand resting on the wall while the other held her hair back to keep it away from the liquid rushing from her mouth.
Without a word, Roman came up behind her and took over holding her hair back and patting her back. He wasn’t really sure how long it took her to empty her system of the excess alcohol, but it took a hell of a long time. Several women came into the restroom, most only gave him a curious glance, a few grumbled but no one called management.
When April was finally done, she cupped her hand over her mouth and stood. When she turned, there was an embarrassed light in her eyes.
“You okay?” he asked.
She only nodded then, looking everywhere but at him, she pushed her way past him to go to the sink. The rush of water immediately filled the tense silence between them as she washed her mouth. While she cleaned up, Roman sent Javier a text message. ‘We already left.’
A second later, Javier’s response came in. ‘Without me?’
‘Sorry,’ Roman responded even though he didn’t feel in the least bit sorry.
‘She okay?’ Javier texted moments later.
‘Yup,’ Roman replied. What he really wanted to say was ‘Mind your own damn business. She’s my business.’
‘Cool. I think I’ll leave too. Let her know that I had a great time,” Javier sent. This time Roman didn’t bother replying.
After April was done, she turned from the sink to take her purse from him. When their eyes met, there was a defiant glint in the depths of hers. She stammered, “If you say - say I told you so, I’ll smack you.”
“I haven’t said anything,” he retorted, but they both knew exactly what he was thinking.
With a kiss of her teeth, she snatched her purse from him. Talk about ungrateful. After a quick rummage in the black clutch purse, she took a couple of mints and popped them into her mouth.
“Javier’s already left,” Roman informed her.
April frowned. “Without me?”
“Yup,” he said curtly. “I’ll drive you home.”
After the fight she’d put up on their way to the bar, he expected her to make a fuss about riding in his car but she just sighed. “Okay.”
Obviously the alcohol wasn’t completely out of her system because when she started for the door, she stumbled. Roman instinctively wrapped his arm around her waist and brought her closer to him. Immediately, she eclipsed his senses and took them over.
Awareness streaked through every part of his body that touched hers. He was outrageously aware of how her arm brushed the side of his torso, how tiny her waist was in his grip, how her thighs brushed against his. He had to take a deep breath to settle his nerves – but even then he remained alert to the warmth, movement and scent of her body.
April shot him a sharp look but she didn’t move away from him, perhaps realizing that she needed his support to walk. The restrooms were close to the bar’s exit so even if Javier was still in the bar there was no chance of him seeing them as they left. When they got to the parking lot, Roman spotted Javier’s convertible and for a moment he thought he might get caught in his lie. Thankfully, April seemed more interested in getting into the car and didn’t even glance that way. When Roman opened the passenger door for her, she got into the car without argument and promptly closed her eyes.
With April fast asleep, the drive to her place was quiet and all Roman had to occupy him were his thoughts. He still couldn’t believe that Javier had the nerve to flirt with April in front of him. After all the warnings he’d given him? Talk about defiant! And April? Wasn’t she supposed to be in love with him? How did she go from loving him one day then flirting with another man the next? The thought was enough to leave a sour taste in Roman’s mouth. He and April needed to have a talk because there was no way he was going to let this go on.
Minutes later, he brought his car to a stop in front of the gates that led to her apartment building. April was so deep asleep, she didn’t even notice that they had arrived. He glanced her way to find her eyes still closed and her mouth slightly parted as she took in deep breaths and exhaled them slowly.
Roman watched her for a long moment. In her sleep, her brow was smooth and there was none of that irritation that filled her features every time she looked at him these days. Longing streaked through him; why couldn’t they go back to those days? When seeing him made her smile, not frown. When her beautiful eyes shone with happiness when she saw him, not irritation. Oh, how he missed those days.
Heaving a sigh, he called out, “April.”
She didn’t stir.
“April,” he called again.
Not a blink. Not a murmur.
“April, April.” He shook her arm but all he got was unintelligible mumbles before she fell back into sleep.
There was only one thing to do. He got out of the car and circled it to open her door. Once he managed to get her out of the car, he propped her against the side so he could lock the doors before taking her onto his back. Even in her drunken sleep, April was aware enough to tighten her limbs around his body as he tightened his hold beneath her thighs and heaved her higher up his back.
Roman had carried her to her place enough times that they barely warranted a short hello and nod from the night-guard. Though she was tall, she didn’t have a lot of weight on her and piggy-backing her into the complex didn’t take too much effort. However, the stairs were another matter. By the third floor, Roman was sucking in large gulps of air. To make matters even worse, she chose to wake up then.
“Roman?” she mumbled.
“Mm,” he
grunted through his pants.
“Why – why are you and Javier so different?” she murmured.
“I don’t know,” he wheezed.
“He’s nice. You’re not. He’s funny. You’re not,” she listed as her arms tightened around Roman’s neck. “He’s young. You’re not.”
Immediate annoyance streaked through Roman. If Javier was so perfect, why wasn’t he the one carrying her up these damn stairs?
Unaware of the annoyance she was causing, April continued, “Plus he never talks badly about people behind their back.”
This time Roman couldn’t help asking, “How do you know that?”
“I just know.” Her head lolled against his shoulder as she added, “Because he’s perfect.”
“Perfect!” Roman snorted. “Yeah, right!”
“Don’t make funny noises.” April smacked his shoulder. “My Javier is perfect.”
My Javier? Roman stopped moving and turned his head to stare at the troublesome bundle of womanly curves on his back. Did she just say ‘My Javier’?
“He’s perfect. Not like you.” She hit his shoulder again. “You’re a jerk.”
Roman narrowed his eyes and glared at her. “Hit me one more time and I will put you down.”
“You’re a jerk.” She grabbed a decent chunk of his hair and pulled.
Honest to God, Roman almost put her down right then and there. If it wasn’t for his fear that she’d tumble down the stairs in her current state, he really would have. He kissed his teeth as he heaved her higher up his back. Thankfully, she didn’t speak again until they got to her floor. Pure relief coursing through him, he set her on her feet and propped her against the wall next to her door.
“Give me your keys,” he said.
All she did was stare at him sullenly, her mouth drawn in a small pout. He snatched her purse from her grip and flicked it open.
“And you’re mean,” April suddenly spoke up as she watched him rummage through her purse. “You didn’t even tell me that the Robin – Robin Jays were having a match. Didn’t you guys miss me there?”
Roman immediately looked up. All the annoyance he’d been feeling drained out of him, like a balloon that had been pricked. “You wanted to come?”
“Of co - course I wanted to come. They’re my kids too.” Her lip trembled as if she was on the verge of crying. “But you didn’t even tell me.”
Surprise and shock seared through him in equal measure. Yes, he hadn’t told her about the match deliberately, but it was only because he thought that she wasn’t interested in anything to do with him. If he’d thought that she was that attached to his kids, he never would’ve cut her off. He started towards her. “I’m sorry, Ap-”
“Don’t,” she cut him off mid-sentence and snatched her purse from him.
He tried again, “I really didn’t mean to-”
“I do-don’t want to hear it.” She found her house keys easily. Her back to him, she pressed one key into the lock. “Thanks for driving me home.”
“No problem.” He took a step closer to her just as she pushed open the door. “But can we-”
“Goodnight!” she cut in abruptly before stepping into the apartment. One second they were both standing outside and the next, she was inside. The door slammed closed, leaving Roman out in the hallway alone.
He considered knocking and asking her if they could talk, but something told him it would be in vain. April wasn’t in the mood to listen to his apologies. With a tired sigh, he started back towards the stairs. What was it with them? Why did their every conversation end with one or both of them angry these days? What was the real reason behind her animosity towards him? And when would it end? Because he hated it more than he’d ever hated anything in his life.
God, he hated it!
CHAPTER 7
April was still at the top of Roman’s mind the next day. The fact that their relationship had disintegrated bothered him more than he liked to admit, and he was trying to trace the root cause of that disintegration. But he couldn’t find it. As far as he could see, April’s change in attitude had just occurred out of the blue. As if she’d woken one day and just decided to be angry with him. Now he regretted giving her so much time to get over it because all it seemed to have done was increase the distance between them.
“Roman, it’s burning!” His mother roughly yanked him from his thoughts with a slap to the back of his head.
“Ow!” His hand flew to the back of his head as he shot his mother a pained look. “That hurt.”
“Look what you’ve done,” his mother complained.
Though Patricia Teller was a petite woman, she was fierce in her anger. Her piercing eyes, dark like his, glittered with annoyance, and her scowl seemed to make her sharp, handsome, angular facial features seem almost masculine. Unconcerned at his pain, she pressed her fists to her hips and glared at slices of steak that Roman was supposed to be grilling. Though the tops were just lightly charred as they were supposed to be, wisps of smoke rose from their bottoms indicating that all wasn’t well. When Roman turned one slice, blackened meat met him.
He gave his mother a sheepish grin. “Sorry, Ma.”
Though they weren’t the only ones in the backyard, everyone else was busy with their own stuff. His sisters twins, Ryan and Rita, were screaming their heads off while jumping on the trampoline that they’d set up some distance away from the grill, while his father, Richard, was seated on a lawn chair next to the trampoline, deeply engrossed in one of his physics books.
“That’s almost one hundred dollars worth of meat you just wasted.” Patricia clucked disapprovingly. “Now what are we supposed to do for lunch?”
“I’ll go get some more from the store,” Roman offered apologetically.
“And waste another hundred? I don’t think so.” She grabbed the tongs from Roman and turned one slice of steak so that they could better see the blackened areas. “It’s just the bottom parts that are burnt. We can scrape them away.”
“Scrape them away?” Roman gave her a horrified look. “Ma, I don’t mind spending the extra money.”
“And why would you spend it?” Without looking at him, Patricia turned all the steak pieces so the burnt sides were facing up. “Give me the knife.”
“I’m not eating burnt steak just because you want to be cheap,” he protested as he handed her the steak knife.
“It’s not burnt.” She moved one steak piece from the grill to a cutting board and adeptly sliced off the burnt part. She smiled. “Look at that. Still good.”
Growing up, they hadn’t been the most well-off family out there. Richard was ostensibly the breadwinner but he worked a dead-end, low-paying job as a fabric production factory manager. Even with Patty supplementing his anemic income by hawking cosmetics around their neighborhood, their monthly take was still too low. With three kids to feed and educate, scrimping and saving was a necessity, not a choice. Somehow, they’d found ways to make do with the little they had. Though the older couple were now well-off courtesy of Roman, Roman’s older sister and Greyson’s career success, Patricia was still as frugal as ever. It was from her that Roman had picked up most of his thrifty habits.
“What’s going on with you?” Patty asked as she sliced the burnt steak pieces.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“You’re not the type to burn food, and you’ve been very distracted lately.” She asked, “Is something wrong at work?”
He shook his head. “Work’s fine.”
“Then what’s wrong?” His mother glanced upwards to meet his eyes. In her gaze there was obvious concern. “Is it one of your girlfriends again?”
Roman laughed. “You say it like there’s a truckload of them.”
“Well, isn’t there?” His mother’s eyebrows rose up. “You know, finding a good girl isn’t hard at all. Mrs. Carter from church-”
“No thanks,” Roman cut her off mid-sentence because he knew exactly where that sentence was going – towards a blind-da
te. He’d once been dumb enough to allow his mother to set him up. Just once, and it was the last time. His mother had ended up setting him up with a holier-than-thou choir mistress who’d started talking about her ideal wedding on their first date. No. Nope. No way. Thanks but no thanks.
Proving her mind-reading abilities, Patricia said, “Nancy wasn’t that bad.”
“Yeah, she was.” Roman gave her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about me, Ma. I’ll find the right one.”
“Hmph!” His mother snorted.
Fortunately, before she could pursue the topic further, Isis, Roman’s sister, emerged from the house carrying a bowl filled with a colorful fruit and vegetable salad. Setting the bowl on the table next to their mother, Isis stared at the burnt cuts of meat that their mother was butchering. “What happened there?”
“Your brother happened.” Patricia didn’t even look up.
When Isis’s questioning eyes met Roman’s, he shrugged and gave her an innocent look. Isis’s blue eyes narrowed as disbelief glinted in them.
Most people found it easier to believe that Isis was Greyson’s sister than that she was Roman’s. She had the blonde, blue-eyed, Nordic looks that were common on their father’s side of the family while Roman had taken after their mother’s dark looks.
When they were younger, Isis would tease him mercilessly about being adopted then crow in delight when he cried. That cruel streak was probably what made her such a good prosecutor. Whenever defense attorneys knew they were coming up against the Ice Queen, as they liked to call her, they scrambled to make deals for fear of their client being hit with the highest penalty the law allowed.
Isis pressed one fist on her hip as she stared at burnt meat. “Do you two really expect us to eat that?”
“What?” Without looking up, their mother asked, “Are you too good for burnt steak now?”
“Yes, I am. And so are you,” Isis answered without hesitation. “Don’t you have any extras in the fridge?”
“You know I don’t like to buy excess food,” Patricia retorted.
