I climbed out of the bed and dressed in yesterday’s clothes. Making my way downstairs, I found the kitchen and made myself a fresh coffee. My email was on loud alert, but that didn’t stop me from refreshing it every ten seconds.
I turned on the TV and sank down on the sofa, stretching myself out as I ran over the possible responses from Coop. Hurry up and reply already. My phone began to vibrate. Gingerly, I picked it up. Sure enough, there was a text from Coop.
You have no idea how happy you’ve just made me. As slow as you want, Beth.
I couldn’t help but smile.
Texting is good. I can handle that.
A surge of relief flooded through me. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. Fixing things with Coop gave me hope that I might actually be able to move on from that night.
So . . . how are you doing?
I laughed. How was I doing? Things were pretty shitty. But they were better than they had been a couple of weeks ago.
I'm okay. I'm sorry. About everything. I shouldn’t have pushed you away like I did.
He replied right away.
I'm just glad you're talking to me now. Or at least typing to me.
I laughed, setting my phone down. For two months I had pushed him away. He made one mistake; but the only person to blame for what happened that night was Ivan. I was beginning to realize that.
***
Just after lunch, Scarlett came home, her hands filled with shopping. She gave me a friendly smile, but I could see she felt as awkward as I did. I felt obliged to sit in the kitchen and attempt conversation as she unpacked. Which was hard, because I couldn't look at her without remembering her naked with her fingers inside me. And that made me want to cringe.
"So, are you and Roman close?" I asked. Hell, I'll admit it: I was curious to hear her view on their relationship. These things didn't always match up.
She snorted. "I've known him for a few years, but I would barely call us friends." She turned to me. "He's a very private man. He's been through some things, and I think he finds it hard to open up sometimes. But he's a good guy. A good guy who has made some wrong decisions in the past and learned from them."
What did she mean by that? Wrong decisions—that sounded very ominous. I didn't ask any more, I just sat there thinking about all the wrong decisions I'd made in my life. Who was I to judge?
"I better get going," I said. I stood up and grabbed my bag. "It was nice seeing you again."
"You too, Beth. I'm sure I'll see you again soon."
***
"Did you have fun?" he asked me.
I nodded. I always had fun with him.
Since our 'talk' about the rape, he had been super patient and supportive. I always made the first move, and I felt confident that if things went too far, he would stop. That trust meant the world to me. I trusted him like I did no other. Having someone know about what happened was a relief. It was no longer just Ivan and I who knew, and in a weird way, that made me feel stronger—like he had less power over me.
***
I invited him inside. After a coffee, I led him into the bedroom.
Slowly, I began to unbutton his shirt. He gazed down at me, lifting his hands to catch my wrists.
"I'm not sleeping with you, Beth. Not yet. Not until you’re ready."
"What if I am ready?" I pouted.
"Then a little longer isn’t going to hurt, is it?"
"It's not like we haven’t had sex before," I protested. "And if things get…hard, I trust you to stop."
He shook his head. "Not tonight." He curved his hand around the back of my neck and kissed me. His lips felt amazing against mine. This was doing nothing to ease the need I had for him. "I'd love nothing more than to be inside you right now, Beth, but the next time I do that, its going to feel right."
I pulled away from him. Why did I feel rejected? Staring at him, I lifted my dress over my head and tossed it on the floor. He breathed in sharply as he took in my body. I reached behind my back and unclipped my bra, letting that, too, fall away.
"You may not want to have sex with me," I began, walking over to the bed, "but you can’t stop me from touching myself in front of you."
I had him, and he knew it. I could tell from the look of desire in his eyes and the way his jaw had tensed. Slowly, I peeled off my panties and kicked them aside. Kneeling on the bed with my legs parted, I began to touch my bare pussy.
"You like this?" I asked him, dipping my finger inside myself.
"You're not playing fair, Beth."
I let out a little moan as I rubbed my breasts, squeezing my nipples as I worked my finger in and out of my wet pussy. He moved toward me at a snail’s pace, his eyes not leaving mine. The effect my little performance was having on him was obvious by the large bulge in his pants.
I smiled as he lowered himself down to me. I won. Don’t mess with Beth.
But then he placed a soft kiss on my forehead and smiled at me.
“Goodnight, Beth,” he murmured, his eyes laughing at me.
My mouth dropped open. I watched him leave my room, closing the door behind him without so much as a glance back at me. I threw myself back on the bed, so angry. I snorted—angry at what? Finding the only guy in the world who refused to rush into sex with a rape victim?
How could I possibly stay angry at him? The answer was I couldn't.
Chapter Eighteen
Beth
A day without seeing Roman was like a day without oxygen: I struggled to survive. He’d had things to do, apparently, that didn’t involve me.
Studying myself in the mirror, I nodded with satisfaction. Let’s see him pass on my advances tonight. The intercom buzzed, and I raced to let him in. By the time he reached my door I was ready, my purse in hand and my feet slipping into my heels.
“You look stunning,” he mumbled, leaning over to kiss me.
I grinned. With no clue where we were headed, I’d thrown on a silk dress that hung just above the knee and a pair of strappy heels.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” I asked as we walked to his car—if you could even call it a car. The sporty, black, metal contraption parked in my driveway was not his usual transportation, and it must have cost a fortune.
“Impressed?” he asked as he opened the door for me.
I shrugged. “You’re talking to one of the highest earners in the country last year. Material things don’t impress me.” I smirked.
He raised his eyebrows as he pushed the door shut. “So, what does impress you then, Beth?”
I thought for a moment. “A man who knows how to treat a woman. Someone who thinks before they act. Someone who thinks of others before they act.”
“That shouldn’t be something that impresses. That should be standard behavior.”
“Unfortunately, not all men see it that way.” I shrugged, determined not to put a damper on our night. “So, where did you get the car?”
He laughed. “Mine is being serviced. This belongs to a friend.”
“Nice friend,” I joked. “So, where is it we’re going?” I asked.
Roman smirked at me and shook his head. “Be patient. You’ll find out soon enough.”
I sank further back into my seat and pouted. I didn’t like surprises. The only surprises I’d received growing up were bad ones. Like the time Mom’s boyfriend got high and slayed my pet dog in the living room. Walking in on that at age ten wasn’t a good surprise.
Or when he’d try to climb into bed with me in the middle of the night. Nothing ever happened, thank God. He’d always passed out from the alcohol as soon as his head hit my pillow, but that didn’t stop me from sleeping with a knife under my mattress, just in case.
I glanced over at Roman, who was concentrating on the road. His dark hair was cropped short against his tanned skin. His jaw twitched as he focused, oblivious to my attention. I smiled and turned away, leaning my elbow against the door of the car.
We pulled up outside a small burger shack. I scre
wed up my nose, glancing down at my twelve-hundred-dollar outfit.
Roman chuckled. “I told you, you look stunning.”
"Maybe, but I think I'm a bit overdressed."
"So undress then," he said with a smirk.
I narrowed my eyes at him, but couldn't help but smile. "You wish," I shot back.
"You're right, I do."
I rolled my eyes and got out of the car, following him into the diner. We were seated at a booth near the door. I slid across the wooden seat and reached for a menu. For once, I was actually starving.
"What do you recommend here?" I asked him, poring over the offerings.
Double beef and bacon cheeseburger. The thought made my mouth water.
"It's all pretty good. I think I'll go with a ranch special. You?"
"The double beef and bacon burger?" I asked, blushing.
"Well, someone has an appetite," he chuckled, raising his eyebrows at me.
I shrugged. “I like my meat,” I replied.
He raised his eyebrows and I blushed. I knew exactly where his mind had gone.
Our dinner came out and we chowed it down. It was surprisingly good. I’d even stopped caring about being overdressed; I was just focused on Roman and the great time I was having.
“Dessert?” he asked with a smile.
“God, no,” I groaned, clutching my stomach. “I think I ate a whole cow just then.”
“I’m actually impressed you got through the whole thing,” he laughed.
So was I. And now I was regretting it. My stomach made a weird gurgling noise. I looked up, horrified. Roman began to laugh hysterically.
“It’s not funny,” I whined, a smile creeping onto my face.
“Come on. Let’s get you home. I think you’ll need to hibernate for a month after that meal.”
***
“Do you want to come in?” I asked him. We stood by my front gate, and after spending the last ten minutes making out, I wanted to move things forward.
“I have an early start tomorrow,” he said, shaking his head.
“It’s barely eight,” I replied, frowning. I knew what he was doing: he didn’t want to pressure me. But what happened when I want things to go further? Like right now?
“I have a very early start tomorrow morning.”
“Fine,” I huffed. “Well, I’m going in. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He took my hand and placed it on his lips, kissing me softly. My anger melted away as I stared into those brown eyes.
“Don’t be angry at me because I want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m not angry. I’m frustrated. There is a difference.”
“We don’t need to rush this, Beth. I’m not going anywhere.” He moved forward, cupping my face in his hands as he kissed me. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
I nodded and watched him leave. I stood by the gate until his car disappeared around the bend. Leaning back against the metal bars, I sighed.
How could I stay angry at the only person who’d ever had my best interests at heart?
Chapter Nineteen
Roman
"How old are you here?" I asked, smiling at the photo. The little girl was laughing, her blonde curls out of control around her round face.
She grabbed the picture from him and studied it.
"About three, I think." She smiled and leaned back against me. "The only good memories I have of Mom were when I was three or four. She used to play tea party with me. I had the cutest little plastic tea set. I loved the hell out of that thing."
We sat on the floor in the living room, going through her childhood memories. It saddened me that, good and bad, they all fit in a small shoebox. A few pictures, some childhood drawings, a small stuffed bear...that was it. A whole lifetime and that is all she had to show for it.
"Let's go out." I got to my feet and put my hands out. She laughed and took them, hoisting herself up.
"Where?" she asked.
"Ice cream."
"Why?" She laughed, shaking her head.
"Since when do you need a reason to have ice cream?"
She nodded. "Okay, let’s go then."
***
My jaw tensed when I saw the incoming number. I glanced over at Beth, who was still busy ordering ice cream.
“Hello?” I said, keeping my voice low.
“Roman. I was beginning to think you might’ve fled the country. You’re a hard man to get ahold of.”
“I’m a busy man. How can I help you?” I replied, my tone cool.
“I’m hoping you have some information for me. You do remember our deal, don’t you? If you’d rather just hand over the cash you owe me, that’s fine, too.” Yeah, right. Like I had a choice.
“I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m doing what you asked.”
“Are you? Because from what I hear, you’re doing more than what I asked of you. I hired you because I thought you were responsible enough to not hit on her, Roman. Or at least desperate enough for the cash.”
“What do you need?”
“I need information, Roman. My client is getting antsy. He is paying big bucks to know everything there is to know about this girl.”
“And how do I know this information is not going to be abused?” I retorted. I ran a hand through my hair, trying to keep my frustration under control.
“That’s really is none of your business, is it?”
“Look, I’m with her now. I have to go. I will call you later.” I hung up as Beth walked back over to me with two heavily scooped cups of ice cream.
“Everything all right?” she asked, handing me a cup.
“Yes, fine. Mint choc-chip. Good choice,” I said, changing the subject. I turned quickly, running into someone. “Sorry—” I started, looking up. Oh, shit.
Dahlia’s mouth broke into a smile. “Roman.” Then she spotted Beth. Her eyes widened, then she turned back to me and winked. God only knows what she was thinking. Andrew stood behind Dahlia awkwardly, like he wasn’t sure whether to acknowledge me or not.
“Dahlia. Andrew.” I nodded. “This is my friend, Beth. Beth, these are some old friends of mine.”
Beth smiled and held out her hand. “Lovely to meet you,” she grinned.
“So, are you Roman’s girlfriend?” Dahlia asked, her voice curious. She looked from Beth to me. I knew exactly what she was thinking: When are you bringing her to the club?
“Just good friends, Dahlia. We better let you two get going. You don’t want to miss your movie,” I said pointedly, praying she would take the hint.
“What…oh, yes. The movie.” She raised her eyebrows at me and led Andrew away. I sighed, my heart pounding at the close call that had been. In all my time at the club, that was the first time I had ever run into any of its members.
That had been way, way too close.
Chapter Twenty
Beth
“So, how long have you known them?”
“Not that long.”
“How did you meet?” I pressed.
Roman was quiet for a moment. “We met through other friends. We catch up once a month for dinner and a few drinks.” He hesitated. What wasn’t he telling me?
“You seem . . . I don’t know. You’re so mysterious. I feel like I never know if you’re telling me the complete truth.”
“Some things don’t need to be told, Beth.” He held my gaze and gave me a small smile.
Which only left me wondering, what wasn’t he telling me?
Chapter Twenty-One
Beth
Things were going so well. I was very slowly beginning to feel like myself again. I could almost forget what had happened if I didn’t have to see Ivan almost every day. And Roman was . . . well, Roman. What could I say? He was amazing. Things were finally going right for me.
I was expecting Roman to arrive any minute when my phone began to ring. I checked the caller ID and nearly fainted. It was Coop. Coop was calling me. My heart began to pound.
; Do I answer?
I clicked answer and held the phone to my ear, frozen.
“Beth?”
I closed my eyes, his voice melting through me. God I’d missed that sound.
“Hi,” I managed. I was in shock that I’d actually answered, and I think he was too. We had been emailing for a while, and texting—but talking? This was a big step for me.
I sat down on the sofa, telling myself to breathe.
“How are you? It’s so good to hear your voice,” he said.
You too. God I’ve missed you so much.
“It’s good to hear yours too. How’s your mom?” Yes, I headed right for the safe topic. I was still paying for her treatment at the clinic. During all that had happened, it never once crossed my mind to pull the funding. I’d never do that to him.
“She’s good. Some days are better than others, but she hasn’t really gotten worse.”
“That’s great,” I said, my voice soft. I closed my eyes. My heart ached. Was I over him? No. Had I forgiven him? I was trying my damn hardest. I blinked back tears as the intercom buzzed.
Roman had arrived.
“Coop, I have to go.” I hesitated. “It was great talking to you.”
“You too, Beth. I love you.”
But not in the way I longed for you to love me.
Hanging up the phone, I buzzed Roman in and met him at the door. I nearly melted on the spot. Does this guy get sexier every time I see him?
I took in his black pants and charcoal, pinstriped shirt, which was open at the collar. He smiled that sexy, heart-fluttering smile and I sighed. I could stare at him all day. What stuck me as surprising was how quickly Coop had escaped my thoughts.
I opened the door and walked back into the kitchen, knowing he was right behind me. This had become a pattern. He was here every night. Or I was at his place. I’d cooked extra tonight, knowing he was going to be coming over. How fucked up was that? And the fact that I was cooking? Even more fucked up, considering how bad my cooking skills were. I could burn water.
“You’re no longer surprised at me turning up. Maybe I need to switch up my game,” he joked, slipping his arms around my waist.
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