by Carina Adams
He tipped his head slightly to the left, eyes on mine. “I don’t know about you, but I think we should leave the two of them to figure their shit out and go get some pizza.
I nodded. It was a great plan. They’d be fine. He held out his hand and I took it.
Before we’d taken three steps though, Brooke appeared. She didn’t glimpse in my direction, her eyes glued to Reid. “Can you take me home?”
His face fell into a perplexed frown as he looked down at her. I stared at her, too, and questioned what in the world had happened in the few minutes we’d given them space. Gone was my flirty and comical friend and in her place was a forlorn beauty with red eyes and tear stained cheeks.
He nodded, “Of course.”
It was clear Brooke was in no shape to answer questions. The best thing to do was to get her out of there. I knew that, but the way he dropped my hand without as much of a backward glance perplexed me.
His fingers closed almost possessively around Brooke’s bicep and he started to guide her out of the bar. A few steps later, he paused, and turned back toward me. When his eyes met mine, he mouthed the words, “I’m sorry.” Then they disappeared into the sea of people.
Completely confused by the rapid turn of events, I turned and searched for Roman. I hoped he’d be able to tell me what in the hell had just happened. He’d taken a seat at the bar and didn’t acknowledge me as I approached. I called his name, but his only answer was to lift a shot glass to his lips.
I pushed into the small space next to him, horrified when I noticed how his shoulders drooped and his expression matched Brooke’s. My plan hadn’t just backfired; it had failed in epic proportions. I felt awful.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered.
When he finally turned to me, there was no anger in his eyes, “Don’t.”
I didn’t know if he meant he didn’t want me to talk or if he didn’t want to hear my lame apologies. So, I stood there silently as he signaled the bartender for another shot. And then another.
Five drinks later, I discretely shook my head at Fred, the man behind the bar. I didn’t know what Roman was drinking, and I didn’t know what his tolerance level was, but from the way he’d started to sway slightly from side to side I figured it was time to go.
Fred gave me a small nod of understanding and slid the tab my way. I paid it quickly before Roman noticed. When he raised his glass in an attempt to order another, Fred slid a tall glass his way.
“I didn’t order that,” Rome argued.
Fred pointed toward the end of the bar at no one in particular. “The cute little number down there did.”
Roman lifted the drink in thanks, even though no one looked his way, and then chugged. He immediately cringed. “Ugh. What is it?”
“Vodka soda.”
The fact that Fred could answer with a straight face surprised me. I’d watched him fill the glass with tap water and ice. I tried not to laugh as Roman struggled to take another sip. He grimaced and practically dropped the glass onto the countertop before he pushed it away as if it was the vilest thing he’d ever tasted.
“I’m so drunk that that,” he pointed at the glass with a sneer, “tastes like water.”
I barely contained my snort. Ass. I had a new argument for Frankie next time she accused me of being drunk. I might be drunk, but I’m not so drunk that vodka tastes like water. She’d eat it up.
Roman stood, surprisingly stable for someone who’d consumed as much as he had in such a short time. His eyes grew wider as they settled on me and I braced myself for his wrath.
He smirked and threw an arm over my shoulders. “Crazy girl,” he cooed, “I’m fucking drunk.”
Yeah, thanks for that, Captain Obvious.
I struggled briefly as he dropped all of his weight onto me. I adjusted, knowing I was the only thing that kept him from falling to the floor in a heap. He didn’t look nearly as heavy as he was.
This was not the plan. He and Brooke were supposed to be off somewhere, talking out their problems, and reconnecting. Instead, she was wasted and probably giving Reid a sob story as he drove her home and I was stuck babysitting Roman.
I groaned. Not the plan at all. I didn’t even know how to get Roman home or what to do with him.
“Can you walk?” I asked after I attempted a step only to be jerked back because he was stock-still.
He laughed, a sound that was suspiciously close to a giggle. “Yeah. Where we goin’?”
That was a great question. I could call Reid, have him come back and help me, but something told me he had his hands full. I’d created this mess, I needed to clean it up.
“To my car.”
I didn’t know what else to do. I wasn’t sure if he’d driven, but there was no way in hell I was letting him get behind the wheel. And I couldn’t just put him into a cab without more major guilt. So, carting him home was my only option.
Together we made it out of the pub and down the street, only stumbling a little. Him, because he’d apparently lost the ability to do more than drag his feet. Me, because I was apparently stuck dragging a grown ass man three blocks as he objected the entire way.
I propped him against the back door while I dug my keys out of the pocket of my jeans.
He tried to stand up but slid sideways. I lunged for him, but he managed to catch himself on my trunk right before he toppled to the ground. The absurdity of the situation hit me and all I could do was laugh.
“Who’s car this?”
“It’s mine,” I explained with a sigh as I unlocked the passenger door and pulled it open for him.
“Yours?” He ignored the open door and glared down at my Ford as if it had offended him. “It’s a piece of shit.”
I didn’t let his words faze me. It was. “Yeah. But it’s the piece of shit that’s going to get you home in one piece.”
“Debatable.”
I rolled my eyes and motioned toward to the seat. “Let’s go Boozy McPlastered.”
He laughed gleefully and leaned a shoulder against the car as he walked toward me slowly. He fell into the seat but his legs hung out straight on the sidewalk. Instead of sliding them in, he watched me expectantly. I took a deep breath, cursed every decision that had led me to that moment, and attempted to shove the rest of him into my tiny car.
Roman found the situation immensely amusing and laughed so hard it caused others to stop and gawk. Part of me could see the humor. The rest of me was annoyed.
Once I had him tucked in enough to slam the door, I hurried to my side and slid behind the wheel. “Okay,” I muttered as I pulled out into traffic, “I need directions.”
“You go down the road and make a few turns and then up another road and it’s there.”
“Rome,” I growled in exasperation, “I don’t know where you live.”
He chuckled and leaned his head back, his eyes closed.
I wasn’t going to get anymore from him so I sent Reid a text asking for his address. He didn’t respond. I made it all the way across town before I decided I couldn’t wait anymore. I thought about asking Livie, but she was working and I had no idea when she’d be able to check her messages. Desperate, I called Violet. She answered on the second ring, the noises of a party loud in the background.
“Ooooo. Booty call?” she teased as soon as I asked.
My eyes slid to Rome. I could just make out his face in the passing street lights. “Nothing that fun,” I assured her. “I need it for tomorrow,” I fibbed, “and just realized he never gave it to me.”
“Oh, shit! Right? That’d be helpful.” She prattled off the address. “See you in the morning.”
I hung up and plugged it into my GPS. It wasn’t hard to find. Tucked away in a quiet and cute neighborhood, Reid’s small ranch had a well maintained yard and landscaped flower beds. His truck wasn’t in the drive, but I couldn’t see if it was hidden behind the garage door.
I parked and turned my engine off. I didn’t want the neighbors to get nervous about a loud car
loitering in the neighborhood and call the police. It was bad enough that I clearly didn’t fit in.
I shook Roman’s arm gently. “Hey, we’re here.”
He sat up with a quick jerk and swiped the back of his hand across his lips and chin, as if he thought he’d been drooling. With half open eyes, he looked around, confused. “Where?”
“You’re home.”
“This is Reid’s.”
I nodded in an attempt to be patient. “It is. You live here, too.”
“Oh.” He didn’t move. “I don’t have a home anymore.”
My heart ached. “Do you need help?” I probed after a moment of silence.
“Where’s my truck?”
I didn’t know the answer, and instead of egging him on with a response of, ‘Wherever you left it, smartass,’ I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Need my keys.” He slapped his hips as he checked his pockets. “Don’t have ‘em.”
I looked back at Reid’s adorable place. “He doesn’t have a hide-a-key somewhere?”
He sighed as if to say he thought I was an idiot for asking. “I don’t want to sleep on the lawn again.”
That made me do a double take. He was so forlorn, as if he thought I would suggest he do just that. Again? I did want to hear that story, but no. Not on my watch.
I started my car. “Okay, then. Where to now?” As I backed onto the road, I muttered, “Why don’t you crash at my place?”
“No!” He yelled.
His outburst jumped me so much I slammed on my brakes. Thankful there wasn’t anyone behind me, I checked my mirrors and started to drive again. “Not with me,” I assured him quietly. “I meant on my couch.”
“You live with the Dragon Lady,” he shook his head. “No.”
“Dragon Lady?” I snorted. “You mean Frankie?”
“She hates me.” He’d attempted a conspiratorial whisper, but it came out in a shriek.
“She doesn’t even know you.”
“Oh, she does. And she despises me.”
“Okay,” I twisted my lips in thought, not sure where else I could take him.
“Studio.” He answered my unspoken thought.
“You want me to take you to the studio?”
“Yeah. Don’t need keys. You have ‘em.”
He had a great point. “The studio it is.”
He was quiet the rest of the ride and didn’t move until I opened his door. He wasn’t sober by any means, but he had enough control to walk with only a little help. Once I unlocked the front door and flipped on the lights though, he started to stager.
I led him straight to the costume room, where there was a large bean bag in one corner and a recliner in the other. Together we managed to pull off his jacket and then maneuvered his large frame into the chair. I grabbed one of Randy’s blankets and tucked him in.
Before I could leave, Rome grabbed my hand. “Don’t go.” His eyes were still closed, but his voice was clear. “I don’t want you driving home alone this late.”
“I’ll be fine,” I assured him.
“No,” he forced his eyes open and looked up at me. All I could see was concern. “I fucked up. I should have gotten you home first then gone back to the bar. Please. Stay.”
I swallowed against the lump in my throat. Unable to tell him no, I nodded. I’d slept on the bean bag enough times to know it was perfectly comfortable after some adjustments. “Okay. But, I’m leaving as soon as the sun comes up. And we’re not telling anyone.”
“Why?” His lip curled in a drunk sneer.
Brooke’s devastated expression as she’d left the bar with Reid flashed in my mind. “I don’t want them to get the wrong idea,” I whispered. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
He seemed to understand and his eyes drifted closed once again.
I set my alarm for a little after five, grabbed another blanket, turned out the lights, dropped my phone and keys onto the floor, and settled in. I’d just gotten comfortable and started to flirt with the edge of unconsciousness when Roman spoke one last time.
“That’s how betrayal starts. Not with big lies, but with small secrets. You keep things from the people you love to protect them, but all it does is hurt them in the end.”
The words kept me awake long after he started to snore.
Twenty-Two
Roman
I was really fucking sick of alarms. Why in the hell would I set one when I’d been out drinking the night before? Worse was the fact that I was such an asshole I plugged my goddamn phone in on the other side of the room so that my lazy ass had to crawl out of bed to stop the incessant sound.
I attempted to roll to my side, ready to smash the thing into a million pieces, but couldn’t. Something was wrong. I opened my eyes slowly in an attempt to not make the pounding in my head worse.
So much for getting sober.
It wasn’t my room that greeted me. It took a second to see the dim space, but I knew immediately I was at Soiree. If the outlines of the mannequin and Randy’s sewing table hadn’t given it away, the piles of material on one table and the rolling rack of costumes next to me would have. I just didn’t know why or how I’d gotten there.
The damn alarm clock, with Minions screaming, “Wake Up!” in their annoying squeaky voices started to go off again. Definitely not my phone. I was going to murder it anyway.
It took extra effort, but I sat up and look around the room. I could just make out a bump on the floor in the corner. When it didn’t budge to shut off the horrid noise, I pushed myself out of the chair.
Grabbing the phone, I squinted and pushed buttons until I’d silenced it, then I muted the ringtone and put it back. The room was still mostly dark, which meant it was too early for everyone to be awake, even the people who hadn’t gotten drunk the night before. I needed sleep.
Chore finished, I stared down at the lump. Cady. She looked so peaceful in slumber, snoozing away.
Her spot looked much more comfortable than mine. I looked back at the chair disgustedly. Without any real thought, I peeled off my jeans and shirt and crawled in behind her, threw my arm over her waist and pulled her back into my chest. I was asleep in seconds.
Someone spoke to me, trying to get my attention, but I ignored it. I was too comfortable. Too warm.
“Roman.”
The pillow I was clinging to moved suddenly, as if someone had jerked it out of my arms, and a cold air washed over me.
“What in the hell?” I heard the voice, yet it was too far away for me to care. Someone nudged my leg. “Wake up.” I recognized the voice and fought the sea of my subconscious. “Now!”
It took me a few seconds, but I forced my heavy eyelids up to find a very irate Cady glaring down at me. I sat up and scrubbed at my face. “Mornin’.”
Her eyes went wide as they moved over me, hesitating on my shirtless chest. “Don’t you ‘morning’ me.” She barred her teeth. “What in the hell are you doing?”
Before I could answer, the door swung open. Randy and Peaches were deep in conversation and it took a moment for them to spot us. When they did, Randy trailed off in mid-sentence and Peaches gaped in surprise.
“This isn’t what it looks like,” Cady blurted out, her voice too loud for the quiet room.
Randy nodded almost sympathetically.
Peaches, however, wasn’t convinced. She put her hands on her waist and popped out a hip with attitude. “So, you didn’t sleep with our boss in the back room?”
Cady started to shake her head no, but stopped when she realized that was exactly what she had done. In the literal sense of the word anyway. She turned to me, pleading. “Rome.”
Memories came back. She’d brought me home. She’d taken care of me. I’d gotten in bed with her.
Even if it was her fucking fault I’d broken my sober streak, the rest of it was on me.
My first reaction was to tell them to get the hell out. I didn’t owe anyone an explanation. They worked for me, not the other way around. If t
hey talked shit, they’d be fired before they could beg me to reconsider. However, the pure panic on Cady’s face, and the way her eyes darted between the three of us in worry because I hadn’t offered them a valid reason for why we were there, made me hesitate.
“Wait in my office,” I lifted my chin toward the door. My tone left no room for argument, yet neither of the intruders moved. I narrowed my eyes as my voice tinged on dangerous. “Now.”
They scattered like leaves blowing in the wind.
The door had barely closed before Cady threw my clothes at me. I let them pile in my lap, too busy watching her to care that I was practically naked. I tried to keep the knowing smirk off my face as I waited for her to freak out, to yell. For the woman I enjoyed immensely to make an appearance.
She stared at me for a moment, her expression weary. Then she looked away and shook her head. Without a word she bent over, grabbed her phone and keys from the floor, and was out the door before I could stop her.
I sat there, stunned, unable to move. That was not the reaction I’d expected. Fuck.
Randy and Peaches were waiting for me in the office when I strode in a few minutes later. I had an extra suit in one of the closets, but it was Saturday, I wasn’t on the clock, and I hadn’t bothered to do more than pull on my jeans and t-shirt from the night before. I didn’t miss the way they both eyed my clothes. Or the way they exchanged conspiratorial glances.
“That wasn’t what it looked like,” I informed them as soon as the door clicked shut behind me.
Peaches twisted her bright cotton-candy lips sardonically. “Is it ever?”
Randy had the good sense to stay quiet.
The headache I’d ignored since Cady had woken me up started to pound behind my eyes and acid swirled in my stomach. I wanted nothing more than to swallow a bottle of Excedrin and crash in my bed. However, I was going to deal with the people in front of me and attempt to not take my frustration out on them.
“Ruffles came to check on me this morning. Nothing more.” I growled as I dropped into the chair behind my desk. That’s all the information they’d get.
