I press closer.
She nods her head.
I step from the shadow.
He takes Noel’s hand and drags her off.
I fucking follow.
“What in the fresh hell are you—” Dina spots me, then looks from Noel’s disappearing form to me, eyes widening. “Oh damn.”
She goes to dart forward to warn her, I’m sure, but I pin her with a hard look, and she has the sense to recoil.
“Fine,” she growls, stabbing her finger into my chest. “But fix her, don’t shatter already broken pieces.”
My jaw clenches, and I want to stand and argue my case, but now’s not the time, so I nod, hustling away.
Rounding the corner into a short hallway, I find they’ve stopped in front of a room door. Noel pulls a key, an actual key, from her little purse and opens it up for the two to step inside. He does, and after a moment’s hesitation, a few bounces of her leg, she straightens her spine and does the same.
I don’t fucking think so…
Noel
Holy fucking shit, what am I doing? I wonder as I click the door closed behind me.
The door that is suddenly thrown right back open, the frame filled with a dark-haired, dark-eyed dream.
No…
The man behind me, Joe or John or something of the like, shouts, “Hey, what the hell, man?” But promptly, smartly closes his mouth when Roman bares his teeth, looking like a fucking lion ready to rip the poor soul’s throat out.
“What the hell are you doing here?!” I shriek. “Did you follow me?”
“Does it matter?” He gets in my face, my neck stretching slightly as my heels of choice are on the lower side tonight. “You are clearly about to make a mistake you can’t take back.”
“What makes you think I’d regret anything that happened here tonight?” I hiss. “Who the hell are you to intervene?”
“I’m yours.” He presses into me. “And you’re mine,” he says so simply, his chest hard and the perfect contrast against my soft body.
Always has been.
No! Shut up!
He continues, “And you’d regret it because he’s not the man you want in your bed. I am.”
My cheeks heat and I glare. “You have no idea what you’re talking about, and I am not yours!”
“The hell I don’t, and the hell you aren’t.” His hands wrench into my hair, tugging the slightest bit, and my treacherous body bows for him. “I know I’m the only man who can give you what you need.”
“Uh,” a third voice breaks in. “Should I… go?” the man I completely forgot about asks.
“No.”
“Yes.”
Roman and I glare at one another, his eyes reluctantly lifting over my head.
“Stick around much longer, and you’ll be watching my tongue work.”
I gasp, pressing against his ribs to free myself, but get nowhere. “You’re un-fucking-believable!”
“And you are fighting the inevitable.”
“Why are you doing this?” I vaguely register the door opening and closing. “Why did you stand up there and make a fool of me?”
“I didn’t.”
“You did! There were reporters, Roman! It’s probably all over by now, and if it isn’t, it will be by morning.”
“Good.”
I gape at him. “No! Not good.” My hands dive into my hair, and I pace. “My dad is going to see that.”
“You don’t speak to your dad.”
“So! Your mom will see it too, and your—”
“Brother,” he all but growls.
I cut off, my chin dipping as I look at him through my lashes. “Yes.”
His lip curls. “If you think I give two fucks what anyone has to say about us—”
“There is no us.”
“You’re wrong,” he continues as if I didn’t interrupt.
“And if you think just because you said it, that means it’s real, you’re a fucking psycho!”
“Only when it comes to you.”
I bristle, fists balling. “I am not yours!”
“You have always been mine.”
I jerk back, but he erases the distance I put between us with a single stride.
“Even when the world saw differently, you were mine.”
“That’s not—”
“Yes, it is.” His forehead meets mine. “It’s true. You know it. I know. And now everyone knows it. I gave you five years, Noel. I won’t give you any longer.”
“Get the fuck out of my room, Roman,” I whisper.
“Your room is at our billion-dollar luxury resort six miles from this place.”
“I hate you.” My hand clutches at his bicep, planning to push him back, but my grip only seems to tighten. “You know that, right?”
“I know you wish you did, but know this, Kitten, no one could hate me more than I hate myself for allowing things to go so far.” His thumb glides along my cheek, and my body decides it loves the feeling, pressing against the firm yet soft touch. Roman’s chest rumbles, his other hand firm at my lower back. “Bab—”
“Get out.” I swallow, cutting off the endearment I refuse to hear leaving his lips.
“You’re telling me to leave, but you’re the one holding on.”
Undeterred, he buries his nose in my hair, gliding it down until his lips are tracing my ear.