by Grace Risata
To prove her unwillingness to take another step, Cara crossed her arms over her chest in a pose of defiance.
Tyler gave her a very nasty scowl, most likely the ‘tough look’ he uses when he wants to intimidate people, and then marched right towards the stage. I don’t think she saw that coming at all.
Before Cara could lodge a protest to the remaining members of our little group, we were approached by a stranger. An extremely attractive stranger wearing a revealing outfit and a killer smile. I’m not quite sure about the standard outfit for a death metal concert, but I’m pretty confident this was not it. The brunette stunner wore a black leather miniskirt that barely covered her ass, fishnet stockings, blood red lace up bustier with silver rhinestones, and black stiletto heels. If the year was nineteen eighty-seven and she was trying to bang the lead singer of a hair band, it would have been more appropriate.
“Hello there,” she purred with a laser-like focus on Roman. “I’m hoping you can settle a bet between me and my friends.”
Naturally she paused to bat her eyelashes and point to a group of two other women in similar attire. They were all equally dazzling, and therefore totally stood out at Rage Fest. Don’t get me wrong, I had already seen my fair share of burly men with attitudes, biker chicks wearing jackets proclaiming their motorcycle club names, and teenagers with their nails painted black. It was a diverse crowd. But these ladies were something else entirely. Flawless.
Instead of replying with interest, Roman simply stared at her with measured boredom.
“My friends insist that you’re the underwear model from the new Calvin Boss ads, but I think they’re wrong. I’d recognize you anywhere. You’re the guy from the Nautical Cologne commercial, aren’t you? With a face that like, you’ve got to be famous.”
She gave him her best megawatt grin and tried to stick out her chest for maximum effect. Any normal man would have been complete putty in her hands. However, Roman was the exception to the rule.
“Not interested,” he said loudly, turning around to ignore her entirely.
This didn’t dissuade her in the slightest. Bitch had the nerve to tap him on the arm and keep talking.
“You don’t even know what I’m offering,” she continued, adding a phony giggle to show off her fun side. “I can be a very, very friendly girl and I was just wondering what you’re doing after the concert…”
Roman turned to face the woman, gave her a death glare, and responded coldly, “You want to know what I’m doing after the concert? Not you. In case I’m not making myself perfectly clear, let me spell it out for you. I’m not interested.”
He then walked away to convey the message that their conversation was indeed over.
Holy fucking shit! Any man in his right mind would have at least gotten a quick blow job in the parking lot. Damn. Roman certainly had a surprising amount of willpower.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” he asked, turning in my direction and raising an eyebrow.
“I’m shocked. Most guys would have jumped at the chance for some easy action.”
“I’m not most guys.”
“So I’ve noticed.”
Cara chose that moment to try and pull me away.
“I need a drink, Andi. Come with me and let’s go find some alcohol.”
“I’m not thirsty,” I replied, having a strong desire to hear whatever else Roman had to say. “Go ahead without me.”
My friend sighed, took off in search of refreshments, and left us to finish our conversation.
“Let me ask you something,” he stated casually, gearing up for a debate. “What would you have done if some random guy came up to you with a dumbass pickup line, and you were fully aware that his sole intent was to get into your pants?”
“I need more specifics. What does he look like? If a woman is homely, a man won’t give her a second look. But that lady was incredible.” Yes, I’m a sucker for fake scenarios, but I need to get all the details before I can weigh in with my answer.
Roman paused, cocked his head, grinned, and took a step closer.
“Let’s say it’s me,” he replied with a sultry smirk. “What would you do if I told you I was drunk off your beauty and needed a taste of those sweet lips? Just to satisfy a craving I’ve had all night long…”
By now he was within inches of my face and things were starting to heat up. That smoldering gaze bore into my soul. Fuck. No one had ever looked at me like that before. But this wasn’t real. It was a make-believe scenario. That didn’t mean I couldn’t give an honest answer.
“I would turn around and try to figure out who you were talking to,” I replied quietly, desperately struggling to keep my heart from pounding loud enough for him to hear.
“And if I was speaking to you and no one else?” Roman murmured, now so close I could feel his breath on my cheek.
“I…I…I would probably hyperventilate and then pass out!” I confessed, all hopes of keeping my cool going right out the window.
He erupted into laughter and immediately backed off.
“Most women would not have given that answer, Andi.”
“I’m not most women.”
“So I’ve noticed.”
All of a sudden, the already noisy crowd erupted into a roar of thunderous applause as the next band came onstage. Without even saying a word, the guitar player launched into a menacing rhythm while the drummer pounded a steady beat. Amazingly, it wasn’t horrible at all.
Eager to distance myself from Roman after that embarrassing exchange, I yelled, “Hey, I might as well give them a try and see if this music is any good. I want to get a better view of the band.”
I slowly inched my way closer and closer to the stage, while being careful not to make physical contact with anyone. Most of the fans in the crowd had their hands full with beer bottles, mixed drinks, and other beverages that I had no desire to end up wearing in the unfortunate event of a bodily collision.
Once I was close enough to get a decent view of the singer belting out his rage-filled ballad of death and destruction, I began to join the head-bangers and sing the lyrics. Any distraction from Roman was welcome at this point.
“Bring down the walls of the rich and vain. Tear out their hearts and share your pain!”
Hey. Don’t judge me. It was a catchy little tune. I prefer my music lyrics to rhyme, so I could respect the thought put into his words.
“Make them eat their money until they choke. We’re not going to die alone and broke!”
Okay. It’s not very positive of an anthem, but I wasn’t expecting a happy go-lucky song at Rage Fest. No harm, no foul.
I raised a fist in unison with the audience, sang my heart out, and jumped up and down with the rest of the disillusioned crowd. We raged together at the injustice of society, and I was definitely feeling the intensity of the moment.
Unfortunately, I felt something else with even greater force. The jackass next to me decided it would be a good idea to flail around like a moron even though everyone was packed tightly together like sardines.
That’s right…I took a flying elbow to the face.
My nose got whacked so forcefully that I doubled over in pain and nearly found myself trampled by the horde of people. Instead of apologizing for the accident, my assailant started shouting at me to stay the hell out of his way and called me a fucking idiot.
Within seconds, someone came to my rescue.
Roman.
After pulling me to safety and making sure I wouldn’t get sucked into the sea of gyrating bodies, Roman pushed his way back to where I’d gotten hurt.
While I clutched my nose and prayed that it wasn’t broken, I focused my attention on the man who was hell bent on exacting revenge. Standing in stunned silence, I watched as he confronted the douchebag who tried to blame me for getting hit in the face.
The noise of the music mixed with the roar of the crowd made it impossible to make out their exact words, but it wasn’t long before shouting turned to shov
ing. Just as it appeared that a fight was imminent, Tyler wedged himself in the middle of the brawl and dragged Roman away.
As they approached the spot I was standing, I vaguely heard Tyler scolding his cousin.
“You want the muskers to get involved? Use your head. That’s the last thing we need right now.”
My nose injury was temporarily forgotten as I pondered his statement and the use of ‘muskers.’ I knew that word. They used it on one of my favorite trashy reality television shows. What the hell?
I was drawn from my contemplation when everyone converged on me at once and began freaking out.
“Holy shit, Andi! You’re covered in blood!” Cara announced with concern as she began digging in her purse, presumably for some tissues.
“How bad is the pain?” Roman asked, gently taking my hands and prying them away from my nose. “I’m going to need to take a look at that. Just relax. You’re going to be okay.”
Once he pulled my hands away, I figured out why everyone was making such a big deal out of the situation. My fingers were full of a sticky, red substance that was currently pouring out of my nose.
Roman gave me a quick examination, lightly pressing on the sides of my nose and checking for something. I have no clue what he was looking for, but it must have been good news because he slowly nodded his head and gave a diagnosis.
“It’s not broken, but you took a nasty hit. Lean forward and spit out any blood that might be in your mouth. I’m going to need you to try your best not to breathe through your nose, Andi.”
I did as I was instructed, because he took an authoritative tone and I trusted this total stranger with my health and well-being. I guess I was in shock.
Motioning to Cara, Roman grabbed a handful of tissues and the bottle of water she held firmly under her arm. He poured some of the water on my messy fingers and then wiped me off with the tissues. Once my hands no longer looked like those of a serial killer, he proceeded to gently wipe my face.
“Lean your head slightly forward and pinch your nostrils shut,” he commanded. “The bleeding will eventually stop.”
“No way, man. She’s supposed to lean her head back,” Tyler insisted, contradicting his cousin. “That’s the only way to stop a nosebleed.”
“How many injuries have you had?” Roman asked with a sneer. “If you don’t believe me, Google it.”
Ignoring the pissing match between her boyfriend and his cousin, Cara took her turn tending to my injuries.
“Are you really okay, Andi? How bad does it hurt? What the hell happened? One minute I’m standing in line for a bottle of water, and then suddenly I turn and see you looking like an extra in a horror movie. Did you get a lot of blood on your shirt? It’s one of your favorites! I knew this music was crap!”
I opened my mouth to explain that it wasn’t the band’s fault I got smacked in the face, but Roman answered on my behalf.
“She got elbowed in the nose during a mosh pit frenzy. Don’t make her talk right now. Andi needs to relax, calm down, and take measured breaths through her mouth. Let’s get out of here before something else happens.”
“What?” Tyler snapped in annoyance. “We’re not leaving. We just fucking got here.”
“You can do whatever you want,” Roman countered. “Stay until the sun comes up for all I care. Give me your car keys. I’m sure you can hitch a ride home with a willing whore. They’re all over the place.”
Cara gasped and immediately put the brakes on that plan.
“He’s most certainly not getting a ride from anyone. My friend is wounded, the music is awful, and I’ve had enough for one night. Tyler, take me home.”
Without waiting for him to respond, Roman wrapped an arm protectively around my waist and began to lead me to the parking lot. Cara was hot on our heels mumbling about how relieved she was to have been out of harm’s way.
“If I would have gotten elbowed in the face,” she proclaimed vehemently, “there would have been punches thrown back at the jerk. I would have made him pay dearly!”
It hurt to smile, so I just kept walking along and putting one foot in front of the other. Between the pain in my face and the feeling of warmth emanating from Roman, my emotions were all over the board. I went from pity for myself, straight to unbridled lust over the close proximity to the gorgeous man, and then back to extreme embarrassment that I was the cause of all this drama.
At some point, Tyler caught up to us and jogged ahead to his car. Once he unlocked the doors, he slid in to the driver’s seat and never even had the courtesy to open Cara’s door. Needless to say, she was pissed.
After making sure I was comfortably settled in my seat, the belt was buckled, and my head was leaning forward in an appropriate position, Roman finally seemed to relax.
“Try not to get blood over all my backseat,” Tyler demanded while putting the sports car into reverse.
This caused Roman to sigh and shake his head, Cara dug into her purse for more tissues and came up empty-handed, and Tyler began to curse loudly.
Why?
The reason for his anger was the fact that we were not moving. Yes…the flashy rear wheel drive car was stuck in the muddy parking lot.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me right now!” Roman growled.
If this wasn’t the definition of a total clusterfuck, I didn’t know what was. After no one made a move to address the situation, my poor backseat companion was forced to get out and push. Once he freed us and hopped back into the car, it became apparent that my blood was no longer the main concern about messing up the backseat. Roman was covered in filth from the spinning tires splattering his jeans with gunk.
As Tyler sped away with more than a fair amount of tire squealing in an immature temper tantrum, I dared to turn my head and stare at Roman.
“You think this is funny?” he asked with a raised eye brow.
I couldn’t hide the smirk on my face as I slowly nodded my head.
In response, he put his hand on my back and told me to keep leaning forward and applying pressure to my nose.
“Are you a doctor?” I questioned.
“No, ma’am. I’m a human globe, remember?”
Damn. He’s so charming. I wish the circumstances were different. Anything would be more romantic than the current situation.
“I just want you to know that this kind of stuff doesn’t usually happen to me,” I insisted, needing to clear the air. “I’m not a damsel in distress.”
“That’s good, Andi. Because I’m definitely no knight in shining armor,” he replied cryptically as a veil of sadness passed over his face. I’m not sure what inner thoughts were tormenting him to cause such an abrupt change in mood. Roman suddenly took his hand off my back, turned to stare out the window, and didn’t utter one word the rest of the trip.
After muttering a quiet, “goodnight, Andi” once I got dropped off at my car, the night was officially over. I never could have predicted that the evening would have ended in such a spectacular disappointment. That’s the main reason I was so surprised about what came next a few days later…
Chapter Five
Andi – Tuesday Night
“You’re not going to believe this!” Cara blurted the second I picked up my ringing phone. “Are you sitting down?”
“No, I’m standing up doing the dishes,” I replied. We hadn’t found the time for an in-depth discussion to re-hash the nightmarish events that took place Saturday evening. Cara went shopping with her mom on Sunday, and we both worked long hours on Monday. Of course she sent a quick text to see if my nose was better, but that’s about it.
“Tyler was pretty distant with me the past two days and I let him have his space. I knew he was pissed off, but it’s his fault for picking a band that he should have known I wouldn’t enjoy. I’m certainly not to blame for all the dirt in his car, either.”
Continuing to scrub at a particularly grimy pot, I let my mind wander back to the image of Roman. Aside from the fact that he was tota
l sex on legs and had a physique that made me tingle from head to toe, I was more drawn to his personality. Such an enigma.
“Andi, are you listening to me?” Cara huffed in annoyance, totally catching me not paying attention.
“Yes. Tyler sucks and you’re innocent?”
“You’re not listening at all! I just told you that he apologized for his rude behavior and wants to make it up to us.”
“Us?” There is no ‘us.’ It’s Tyler and Cara. I’m not involved in any way, shape, or form.
“Tyler feels like he made a bad first impression and needs to redeem himself. He actually came up with a brilliant idea you’re going to love. Prepare to be blown away!
“What? No! I already met him. My obligation is done.” Unless Roman might be joining us. Could I ask that? Would it make my hopeless crush on the guy completely obvious and therefore be a source of ridicule? Fantasies weren’t as fun if you got shot down and told there was no chance of making them a reality.
“You met Tyler once. Normally in life, you meet people and then you keep interacting with them. Aren’t you the slightest bit curious about what we’re all doing?”
Damn it. Her use of ‘we’ and ‘all’ are so fucking vague that it’s killing me.
“No, not really,” I replied nonchalantly, lying through my teeth.
“We’re going to an escape room! You’ve always wanted to do one of those and they’re super trendy right now. Come with us! I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer!”
“I don’t want to be a third wheel…” That’s a gentle nudge for her to tell me who else is going. I can’t exactly make an outright demand to know if Roman might tag along.
“You won’t be,” she insisted. “Tyler said they allow six or eight players in the room, so I assume he’s inviting more people. All I know is that he told me to call you, and that we should be ready at seven o’clock on Wednesday.”
“That’s tomorrow!”
“Good job, Andi. See…I knew you were smart! We’re going to kick some ass in this escape room! Don’t forget to wear something extra cute in case Roman comes. I think he might like you. That’s the other thing I wanted to talk about. In my opinion…shit…my call waiting just beeped. Let me see who it is.”