“Where’s your room?” Roman asked quietly.
I wordlessly pointed to the small hallway to my left, while I let him lead me in that direction. When I opened my door and turned on the light, I wanted to sigh in relief. My room wasn’t much, but it looked exactly as I left it. It was modest and my bed was made up and everything put away.
Roman stepped around me and pulled the comforter and sheet down. “Try to get some sleep. You’re exhausted.”
“I need to clean up the place.”
“Sleep,” he commanded, leading me down on the bed. “I’ll take care of it.”
I was too tired to argue and slipped off my flip-flops, climbing into bed. I wore leggings and an oversized tee and didn’t have the energy to change. I felt the bed dip as he sat down on the edge, while I rolled on my side, pulling the covers close. “What’s going to happen?”
He undid my hair as his fingers stroked softly through my strands, caressing me, making me feel comforted. “Nothing you need to worry about right now.” As he continued massaging my scalp, my tension faded, and I closed my eyes, giving into the exhaustion.
I woke up to rustling down the hall. Disoriented, I pushed myself up to a sitting position, briefly confused where I was. I saw the red digits flash to my right on my digital alarm clock, 12:15 a.m., and I took a calming breath remembering I was in my room. I’d only slept a few hours, while the events of yesterday came flooding back. My mom, her overdose, Roman. Roman was here. He’d said he’d take care of cleaning up the disaster in our run-down apartment. That was probably the movement and noise I heard.
Wide awake now, I slid my legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. When I stepped out in the tight hallway, I noticed light flashed under the closed door of my mom’s bedroom. My eyes narrowed as I crept closer. I heard the slam of a drawer, and I turned the handle, pushing in as unease pulsed through my stomach. Roman was leaned over, digging through my mother’s dresser.
“What are you doing?”
He paused and twisted his head behind him. His eyes were dark in the dim light and his face was as impassive as ever. Like it wasn’t unusual that he was caught rifling through my mother’s things. “You’re awake. Why?”
“Why are you going through my mother’s dresser?”
He carefully, meticulously pressed the drawer closed and turned to me. “When I was cleaning up the kitchen and living room, I found several empty bottles of oxycodone. I was concerned because I knew some friends who got hooked on this shit, and they always had a stash hidden somewhere. Then I found this.” He held out a copper bottle that rattled as he shook it. “In her drawer.”
“Oh my God.” I covered my mouth with my hands, fighting nausea and shock. Wondering how my mother could’ve had access to so much medication. Even if she recovered quickly in the hospital, she couldn’t come back here by herself. To suspect it was one thing, but then to actually hear how many bottles of pills were found was a major problem. She was a full-blown addict.
He covered the distance between us and wrapped a hand around my neck, strumming my skin. “She’s in the hospital now, she has care. We can talk to the doctor about this and go from there. I know where your mind is going, but you don’t have to carry this burden alone. I want you to know I will help you.”
“How?”
“Let me worry about that.” He kissed my forehead. Roman had been caring all evening. My doubts about him subsided. We walked into the living room/kitchen area, and he strode over to the sink and ran the water, dumping the pills down the drain.
My mind still wanted to obsess over my mom’s problem, but then I actually looked around aware of the difference of the place; my jaw fell open. The apartment was spotless. “Wow. It looks a lot better.” Passing through the small kitchen, all the counters were clear and everything put away. “Thank you.”
“No big deal.”
“It is a big deal. You didn’t have to do this.”
He dried his hands off as he spoke. “You would be surprised what I would do for you.” He crowded my space, lifting me up on the counter and locking me between his arms. I didn’t know why I believed him. I didn’t know why I felt so secure with him. I should’ve been skeptical considering all that had happened recently, but there were several years of history between us, good and bad, and Roman had always been kind, thoughtful—protective of me.
His face was inches from mine, his eyes always seemed to be able to pierce me and see straight to my soul. Without a thought, I nuzzled into his neck, inhaling his spicy, woodsy cologne mixed with his pure male scent that drove my senses crazy. “You don’t have to help. I’ll manage.”
Roman ran his hands up my back, pulling me against him. “Don’t be foolish. What will you do? Drop out of school? Take on three jobs? Live out of your car? You think I missed the stack of overdue bills? I have the means to help, and I won’t let you ruin your opportunities.” I should’ve been offended by how he presumed I couldn’t take care of this situation. However, I didn’t think he meant to be condescending. His hand curled under my chin, forcing my eyes to his. “Let me help you. Just trust me.” He seemed so sincere and before I could respond, he captured my lips. Trust me. The words reverberated through my head. I wanted to. I wanted to, more than anything. His lips roved over mine in sweet seduction while I drowned against him.
He cocooned me in his arms lifting me against him, never breaking the kiss. It seemed we were always one, and I wrapped my hands around his neck seeking his warmth and comfort he gave. I needed him. “Roman, I need you.”
“I know.”
His kiss deepened with frenzied movements, crushing his mouth against mine as he bruised my lips with his and I wanted everything from him. I needed the pain; I needed his desperation because I felt it too. It was crazy how this man who’d trampled back into my life and could possibly ruin me was the one I frantically craved. A faint thought in the back of my mind wanted to pull me aside and warn me to be cautious, but I knew myself too well. Roman was the one person in this world who could break me, and yet, I was willing to take that chance again.
Roman
She was both sunshine and rain. A beautiful promise that could lift me up and experience heaven. In these moments, I disregarded the past, I even let go of what she and her mother had done to me three years ago, although my motives weren’t completely pure earlier. I wanted to find out whatever shit my father so desperately needed and move on with my life. I owed him, but this was the last fucking time I’d be under his hold. My life was about to be different if I stayed focused on the prize, but now I knew I wasn’t close to giving her up.
I didn’t care about my father at the moment. I didn’t give two fucks about anything but this moment. Theodora was a borderline obsession, and I wasn’t too ashamed to admit it to myself. But she was vulnerable right now, and I wasn’t a complete selfish asshole. I cupped her face between my hands. “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
She scoffed and covered my hands. “Maybe I’m taking advantage of you.” She curled her lips in a faux smug look, but her normally translucent green eyes were a few shades darker. She wanted me.