Rome’s smile for once was genuine, like he actually enjoyed the company of the people around him. He and I had somehow formed friendships with the same damn people over the years, and it crippled me to see him looking so damn refreshed and carefree around the people I loved most.
Then his gaze fell on me, and his smile dropped off. We took one another in, and I licked my lips at his attire, the dark hoodie hiding the tattoos that I knew snaked around his muscles. The slim sweatpants that hugged his thighs in just the right way had my mouth watering too. When his jaw popped, I reminded myself that we needed to keep our distance, even if he’d kissed me in that fitting room.
We sat down for a movie that I couldn’t watch at all. I couldn’t name the characters if my life depended on it. I sat next to Bastian, and his arm draped around my shoulders while Brey and Vick sat near their husbands. Rome took the solo chair but burned holes in Bastian’s arms with a fiery gaze most of the movie.
I couldn’t stop wondering what he’d been thinking by coming tonight.
I gulped down my wine and reached to grab more when Rome murmured, “Get me some?”
His voice made me jump, and I knocked the open bottle onto the wood flooring. The swear word flew from my mouth before I could stop it. “Shit.”
Brey beelined to the paper towels in the kitchen. “I got it, Katie.”
“Thanks for saving my floors, Brey,” Bastian said, completely unfazed by the mess. When Jax tensed, Bastian smirked. “She’s one in a million.”
“You better knock it the fuck off, Bastian,” Jax growled.
He chuckled at Jax’s jealousy. “You’d think he’d get over us dancing together in a club once, honestly.”
Brey rolled her eyes as she cleaned the floor. “It’s not like I slept with Bastian.”
“Right.” Vick laughed. “He barely gives Rome shit about the fact that he slept with Aubrey.”
Rome coughed, and Jax growled at him. “Thanks a lot, Vick,” Rome said, but he was smiling like he wanted to taunt Jax too. Then his eyes jumped to me. “I’m not ashamed, though. Brey and I had an agreement that worked. It worked very well.”
It was like he’d stabbed my stomach with a dagger. Jealousy dug deep in the crevices of my body and festered. I hated the feeling, wanted to rid myself of it immediately.
“Oh, Jesus,” Brey grumbled as Jax stood up, ready to leave.
I sighed and wiped my forehead, trying to shake my anger. “I’ll go get another bottle,” I said to no one in particular.
Rome nodded, but when I passed him on my way to the cellar, he got up and silently followed. If our friends questioned it, they didn’t say a word.
When we got to the cellar and he closed the door behind him, I spun around and glared. “What are you doing following me in here?”
“I’m getting a moment alone with you because you’re practically shaking out there.”
“I’m fine.” I waved off his assessment.
“You’re nervous or uncomfortable. Or both? Is it me?”
I didn’t know what it was. It was all of them and feeling like I had this unit even when I really didn’t. It was him too, knowing I wanted him and knowing I shouldn’t, feeling the jealousy of another woman when it’d been years since they’d hooked up. “I’m just on edge.”
His hand went to my jaw, and instinctively I tilted my cheek into his palm. The anxiety subsided; the shakiness of the world steadied. “You’re okay, huh?”
“I’m okay.” I nodded.
“Good. Now”—he smiled before he threw out what he probably thought was a joke—“let’s make both of us happy and not have you sit with Bastian’s arm around you. It’s only fair since my mouth was on you last.”
Thinking of him with Brey, with any other woman, had me acting out. I wanted to witness his fury and inflict a jealousy in him stronger than mine.
“No, it wasn’t.” I dropped the words out one at a time as if dropping pebbles into a well and waiting for the splash.
“What did you say?” he whispered like he couldn’t believe my admission. “We were just at the boutique. We just . . . You’re telling me that since then, you let him have you?”
I looked down at my nails and contemplated whether I needed to paint them deep red. By the time we were done here, they probably already would be. Rome’s stare grew darker and darker, like a predator who was out for blood. But I was a good fighter, and I’d claw him apart before he drew any of mine. “Bastian’s a gentleman. We kissed. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“‘Nothing more,’ she says. Fuck me.” He spun away from me, and a guttural sound came from deep in his chest. When he twisted back, he was a man on a mission. He didn’t say a word, just grabbed me by the hips and turned me to face a wine fridge with a mirrored door. I saw our reflection there, how his body stood so big behind mine.