RomanandIhavesomehow gone an entire week without being alone in the same room—I’m not sure if I’m avoiding him, if he’s avoiding me, or if our paths just haven’t crossed, but somehow we’ve made it an entire week without being alone in the same room. Considering his bedroom is one very thin wall away from mine, that’s a big feat.
We’ve had dinner a few nights, but only with Ty or Joe and Dante as a buffer, and even then, we haven’t spoken a word to each other. I can’t stop replaying what happened the other night in my mind and it’s driving me absolutely crazy. Of all the twisted things Roman has done, this one somehow takes the cake. What kind of person demands I leave in the middle of my date just to kiss me like he was leaving for war, all to prove a point?
Not even Roman Molanari could be that selfish and out of touch. I refuse to believe it.
Not after the way he kissed me. Not after the things he said. Not after the spark I felt between us. You can’t fake that kind of passion, and I know something else is going on.
But as time passes and he doesn’t even attempt to talk to me or apologize, I wonder if I’m giving him too much credit.
Maybe he really is that much of an asshole.
It’s late when I get home from work, and the house is quiet. Between my busy week at the hospital and the effort I’ve put into avoiding Roman, I’m exhausted, and all I want to do is take a hot shower and go to bed.
Stopping in the kitchen for a glass of wine, I flip on the light. My heart almost stops when I see Roman standing at the fridge. The door is open, and he scans the shelves for something to eat. He glances up when I walk in, nodding toward me with a careless grunt.
“Hey.”
“Hi,” I say, moving toward the cabinet. The last thing I want to do is have this conversation tonight. I don’t say a word as I grab a glass out and open a bottle of wine that’s on the counter. I pour myself a big glass and spin around, hoping to make my getaway, but Roman stands right in my way.
“You’re in a hurry,” he says.
“I didn’t think you’d notice with the way you’ve been avoiding me lately.”
Roman tilts his head, confusion creasing his face. “The other night? Remind me what happened?”
He can’t play dumb for long, though, because a smirk teases at the corner of his lips.
“You’re an asshole.” I roll my eyes, brushing past him.
“I don’t know what you’re so upset about,” he calls after me. “We made a bet. I proved my point, and you lost.”
“Goodnight Roman.”
I can hear him chuckle behind me and it only infuriates me more.
Only when I’m in the safety of my bedroom can I finally breathe. The bed looks so inviting, but I resist the urge to sit down because I know I’ll never get back up, so I force myself into the bathroom to shower and brush my teeth. All I want is for this day to end.
The bathroom in my guest suite is about as big as my entire apartment was. In fact, just the shower itself might be. Three shower heads—one overhead and one on each side—provide a powerful, massaging spray. Natural stone tiles cover the walls and floor, and with the press of a button, I can make the whole thing fill up with steam that smells like a lavender field. It’s a dream, and just as good as any spa I’ve been to.
I flip the faucet on and let it warm up while I peel my clothes off and toss them into the corner. It isn’t just Roman that has my mind all over the place, it’s dinner with my brother. He mentioned my dad’s party, which I completely forgot about and, truthfully, wasn’t really planning to attend. In my rush to leave, though, I committed, and now I have to figure out how to backtrack out of that one.
Not to mention, I’m expecting a call as soon as Jake tells him about my new job. At best, he’ll be curious. At worst, he’ll be skeptical and demand more information.
I open the foggy glass door, ready to step inside, when a furry creature crouched in the corner of the shower catches my eye. A spider the size of a grapefruit sits back on its haunches, trying to avoid the water spray.
“Aaaaaaaah!” a shrill, half-cry, half-scream escapes my mouth as I clamor away, desperately flailing for a towel. It’s almost like it taunts me as I lean against the vanity. Spiders don’t normally scare me, but I’ve never seen one so big. It’s at least six inches long, and I’m frozen, afraid to move.
As I try to figure out what to do, the bathroom door bursts open, and Roman stands in the doorway. He’s disheveled, shirtless, and there’s a vicious look in his eyes that chills me to my bones.
“What? What’s wrong?” His head swivels around the room as he looks for a threat, gun drawn.
“There…” I can’t even put a sentence together. “In the shower…”
Gun drawn, Roman cautiously peers around the edge of the shower, as if he expects an intruder. Seconds later, he bursts into deep laughter, so amused that he bends over, hands on his knees, as he tries to catch his breath.
“Are you serious? You screamed like that because of a spider? I thought someone was being murdered.”
I glare at him. “That thing could easily murder me! Have you seen the size of it?”
