Claiming Roman

by Trevion Burns

  When Zoey’s cries suddenly intensified, now upgraded to full on wails, Angie wished she’d lied.

  “Pregnant,” Angie mouthed to all of the prying eyes, pointing a finger down at her sobbing friend.

  Knowing nods came from every direction, and Angie patted Zoey’s shoulder lovingly until her dramatic tears subsided.

  ***

  A week later, Angie looked up from where she was lying on her stomach in the middle of her bed, nose buried in a book, when her roommate knocked on her bedroom door. Her roommate, Crystal, poked her head into the crack without waiting for a response. Much to Angie’s annoyance, Crystal’s evil black cat came jetting in the moment the door was opened, leaping onto the bed and rubbing it’s soft fur along the edge of her arm.

  “Ugh.” Angie elbowed the cat away, watching as it leapt to the floor and disappeared under the bed. Angie knew it would stay under there until it was good and ready to leave—which was never. That cat loved being near her, and she was still in awe at how an animal she hated with such a passion could possibly love her so much.

  “Great.” Watching the cat vanish under her bed, she shot Crystal a look of death.

  “Hey. Sorry about her.” Crystal was a struggling musician, but with a beautiful songbird voice, an even more beautiful porcelain face, and a pair of sparkling green eyes that had taken many prisoners, Angie was sure she wouldn’t be struggling for long. She had half a mind to befriend Crystal, but was always reminded that she could never truly be friends with someone who could love the evil cat that was currently curled into a ball under her bed.

  Crystal motioned into the hallway. “Some blonde guy is at the door.”

  Angie jolted into a sitting position, shock registering all over her face.

  “He’s extremely hot.” Crystal’s smile collapsed into the kind of pained frown of appreciation that Angie knew only one man on the planet could manage to inspire.

  ***

  Roman stood with both hands behind his back when the apartment door was re-opened just a crack. He found himself leaning in towards the cat eyed-glasses peering up at him through the tiny opening in the door. He squinted one eye into the crack, a cloudy smile on his face.

  “Hi Angie.”

  Angie hesitated. With a sigh, she opened the door all the way. She was angry that he’d shown up to her door unannounced, only because she was mortified that he was seeing her in a pair of black leggings, and a Backstreet Boys t-shirt she’d bought when she was ten. Her hair was slapped up into a bird’s nest that barely classified as a bun, and not a lick of makeup was on her face. It seemed she was destined to look like shit in front of him for the rest of her ever-loving life.

  He, of course, looked like an Adonis.

  He belonged in an Armani ad.

  And then a Colgate ad.

  And then some high-end runway on the Upper West Side.

  He didn’t belong here, on her doorstep, watching her adoringly. This couldn’t be anything more than some embarrassing pity visit. He had no other reason to be here.

  She leaned on the frame of her door and crossed her arms, realizing she was now genuinely angry at this perfect son of a bitch. How dare he show up on her doorstep looking this good? Knowing damn well she was going to open the door looking like something that lived at the bottom of a drain? The nerve!

  Her glasses snuck down to the tip of her nose, and she pushed them back up with one finger.

  “Hi.” He flashed those Colgate teeth.

  “What are you doing here?” I look terrible! Damn you! “I told you I would call you when I found something on your father.”

  Roman looked down the empty corridor, both ways, before leaning on the other side of the doorframe, arms still locked behind his back as he held her eyes.

  He came close, so close she could smell the cologne between his Greek-god collarbones, the shampoo in his Pantene hair, and the fluoride on his Colgate teeth.

  She sucked her own teeth, which she’d yet to brush that morning.

  “I’m not here for business.” He brought his hands from behind his back, and produced the bright red Zoey File. He didn’t miss the way her eyes went awash with relief that he hadn’t lost it, destroyed it, or set it on fire. He handed it to her and tapped the top of it once it was in her grasp. “I just thought you’d like to know that you’ve got some bad information in your Zoey File.”

  Angie snatched the file as if it was her first-born child, and Roman had just told her it had a big nose. “That’s not possible.”

  “Just one little discrepancy is all. Zoey’s parents weren’t killed on 15th St.”

  She tucked the files under her arm. “Yes, they were. I’ve been balls-deep in this investigation for ten years. You think I don’t know what street they were murdered on?”

  Roman waited for her to stop, knowing she could ramble on all day. “The fact that you just used the term balls-deep is incredible, and we’re going to come back to that, but her parents were definitely killed on 15th Avenue, not 15th Street.”

  Her heart shuddered to a halt. “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “No.” Her eyes filled. “It’s not possible.”

  “They were killed right in front of our old house. And we lived on 15th Avenue.”

  Angie’s heart split. If what Roman was saying were true, it would change everything. She was already in over her head trying to find his father, along with the dozen or so other cases she was juggling at the moment. If she’d been looking into the wrong street in Zoey’s case, she would have to drop everything—and that included him.

  How was it possible that she’d made such a huge, stupid mistake?

  He watched the look on her face change to one of horror, and felt bad. “Don’t beat yourself up. You were what? Fourteen? Maybe fifteen, when you started looking into this? You were a kid. People used to get it mixed up all the time, you wouldn’t be the first. It didn’t help that the two streets were both within a mile of each other. It’s okay.”

  “No, it really isn’t.”

  “Aye.” He stepped closer, and ran his hand slowly up and down her arm.

  She didn’t even have the capacity to revel in the fact that he was touching her. “It means that I’ve been running in the wrong direction for ten years. No wonder I haven’t solved this case.”

  “Come on.” Roman took both of her arms, which were currently clutching the files to her chest, and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her. “Now you have the right information, and you can correct whatever needs correcting.”

  “But I could have solved this. I could have taken this huge weight off Zoey’s shoulders ten years ago if I hadn’t made such an idiot mistake.”

  “Didn’t we agree the other day, that we don’t believe in accidents?”

  Angie pressed her lips together, then nodded softly. He smelled good.

  “It’s not an accident that it fell out of your bag, and it’s not an accident that I picked it up and took it home.” His eyes searched hers. “Everything in this life happens… exactly the way it’s supposed to. Exactly when it’s supposed to.”

  Angie nodded with a deep breath. The man was not only making sense, but also perfectly verbalizing everything she’d ever believed since the day she was born. He was doing a splendid job of calming her down, a better job than even she would be capable of. His big arms being wrapped around her probably played some small part, as well.

  “For whatever reason, you weren’t supposed to know this until today, and now you do.”

  “Now I do.”

  Roman rubbed her back. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s not like the last ten years have fucked Zoey up completely. She’s just fine isn’t she? Happy, pregnant, engaged to her brother?”

  Angie sputtered.

  “Totally normal,” Roman said. “Not weird or fucked up, at all.”

  “Not at all,” she mumbled into his chest, her eyes fluttering slowly shut at the amazing feel of his hands massaging her back. Ho
w was it possible for a man to smell so damn good?

  Her phone vibrated in her back pocket before she could enjoy herself any further.

  He kept her arms in his big hands for a moment longer when she pulled away, massaging them up and down, before finally letting them fall.

  “Hello?” she answered, raising her eyes to Roman.

  “Hey Angie. It’s Val.”

  “Val?” Angie looked up at Roman, and saw the exact look on his face that she’d seen on Val’s the other day at Xpresso. Shock, followed immediately by deep longing. She had to bite back a laugh. From the moment she’d met him, this mountain of a man had never shown the kind of vulnerability that he was showing her at that moment, all from hearing Val’s name. Zoey had said it best when she said those two might as well be the lovers. They made each other completely defenseless

  “Angie…” Val continued. “Can you come over? Right now? Zo needs you.”

  Zo needs you. Angie knew what those three words meant better than she knew her own name.

  “There in ten.” She hung up, and held the phone up to Roman. “I completely forgot. Today is her mother’s birthday. Or… was her mother’s birthday.”

  He nodded his understanding.

  “She’s probably a complete wreck.” Angie knew that Zoey was like a rollercoaster on these days. One moment she was fine, and the next she was falling apart. Being four weeks pregnant couldn’t have been helping matters. “I completely forgot. I’m such an asshole.”

  “You’re not an asshole. You take a lot of beatings from yourself, you know that? How have you not broken a limb, yet?” he asked.

  “Well, did you forget that today was her mother’s birthday?”

  Roman had actually spoken to Zoey on the phone that morning, just to make sure she was okay. To remind her that he was there for her if she needed to talk. He thought it best not to share that with Angie.

  But she could see it on his face. “I’m a selfish asshole,” she concluded.

  He laughed. “Are you going over there right now?”

  “Yeah. He says she needs me. That doesn’t spell good things. She’s probably crying.”

  “Zoey always cries. Val knows that better than anyone. Before they started rolling around together, Val was usually the reason she cried.”

  Angie was just as perplexed as Roman appeared to be. She still wasn’t entirely sure just how the hell Zoey and Val had not only ended up together, but pregnant and engaged. Once upon a time, she’d been convinced they hated each other.

  Seeing her distress, Roman nodded at her. “I’ll drive you.”

  Minutes later, they were jaywalking across her bustling Harlem street, making a beeline to the space where his black Bentley was parked. Chills hit her spine when he touched the small of her back, blocking her with his massive body as he led her through the traffic.

  She spoke as they moved. “Val will be really excited to see you. He never stops talking about you. He nearly had a heart attack when he found out we were working together.”

  “What did he say about me?” he asked, while fingering his car keys out of his pocket.

  “Good lord, you sound just like him.”

  “Well, it doesn’t matter, because I’m not going to see him. I’m not going up.” He unarmed the car and opened the passenger door for her, his eyes falling almost helplessly to her ass as she climbed in. “But I’ll take you there.”

  ***

  Ten minutes later, Val swung open the door to his penthouse loft before Angie even had a chance to knock. They shared a knowing look as she stepped in. As always, his apartment was immaculate. Zoey had just moved in, and hadn’t yet had a chance to lay her feminine touch on all the sharp edges, clean lines and modern decor. It was beautiful, but Angie couldn’t help but think that this was no place for a baby. On the other hand, she really couldn’t imagine Val surrounded by high chairs, diaper bags, or child proof anything.

  Her eyes moved to him as he closed the front door. His olive skin was naturally dark, some would call it sun kissed, but at the moment, Angie noticed it was flushed with red.

  “Where is she?” she asked.

  Val motioned to the guest bathroom that was situated across the open loft. His own eyes seemed red with grief. “I don’t know what to say to her. She won’t talk to me. She won’t open the door for me…”

  Angie put a hand on his arm while undoing her scarf with the other.

  “I know,” she said, making her way across his marble floors. She could hear his bare feet pitter-pattering behind her and, when she made it to the bathroom door, she shot him a look.

  He was running his hand through his thick, dark brown hair, his golden eyes staring a hole into the floor, into space. He was completely in his own world.

  With a frown, Angie knocked softly on the bathroom door.

  She could hear the faint cries slow to a stop before Zoey’s strangled voice rang out through the closed door. “Baby, I’m fine. I just need some ‘me time’. Didn’t we talk about my ‘me time’?”

  Angie looked over her shoulder at Val, and they shared a knowing look. “Zoey, it’s me,” Angie said into the door. “Can I come in?”

  “Where’s Val?”

  “Lingering creepily behind me.” Angie looked back at him, again, and winked. “But I promise not to let him in.”

  A long moment passed, and Angie was about to knock again just as the sound of the bathroom lock disengaging clicked through the loft. When the door didn’t open, Angie pushed it open herself, sighing when the door immediately hit Zoey’s thigh.

  “Can you move away from the door so I can open it?”

  “You weight ninety pounds. You can squeeze through.”

  Angie looked back to Val, again. He was much closer to her now than he had been a moment before, trying to peer through the small crack in the door.

  Giving him one last smile, Angie squeezed into the bathroom and eased the door shut in Val’s distressed face.

  She looked down and came eye to eye with Zoey, who was looking up at her with big chipmunk eyes. Angie immediately dropped her bag and slid to the floor on the other side of her best friend, leaving their bent knees entwined, one after the other. Their eyes met, green on brown, and Angie’s eyes went instantly soft at the sight of tears spilling out of Zoey’s. “You couldn’t have picked a bigger bathroom to have your breakdown in?”

  “You know I like tight spaces.” Zoey’s hand fell to the toe of Angie’s checkered Vans, absently tinkering with one of the many pins Angie had attached to them. Zoey’s tear-stained eyes studied the tattered sneakers, instantly catching sight of the Prisoner of Azkaban pin that had been there for years. “These shoes are the worst. If you ever leave them alone with me, I’ll burn them.”

  “I never will,” Angie said.

  Zoey sniffled, looking off, still halfheartedly fingering the pin. “I can’t keep letting him see me like this. He’s going to call off the wedding if I keep this up.”

  “I saw his face out there,” Angie whispered. “He probably would’ve torn this door off the hinges the second you unlocked it if he didn’t fear he’d kill me in the process. Which he’d never do, because he knows I’m your most precious,” she said, in her best Gollum voice.

  “You are my most precious.”

  “You can’t be afraid to cry in front of him, Zoey. You spend 50% of your life crying. Crying is, literally, 50% of who you are.”

  “I know. For now I can blame it all on the pregnancy, but pretty soon he’s going to catch on to the fact that I’m an emotional vampire who will only suck the life out of him the longer he’s with me.”

  “You’re not an emotional vampire, and I’m sure Val knows who he’s marrying.” Angie took a deep breath, letting her eyes roam Zoey’s face. Her friend’s usual sarcastic, but cheerful, demeanor had been capitalized on by wet eyes, trembling lips and salt-streaked cheeks. “And I’m sorry that I didn’t call. That I wasn’t here. I wasn’t even thinking about what day it was. I
should’ve called you.”

  Zoey shook her head as she thought of her late mother, Pansy Black. “It doesn’t matter what today is. I mean, it does. It always will, but… it’s not because it’s her birthday. It’s because I’m pregnant, and apparently already hormonal, because every little thing is setting me off. It used to just be when my period came on that I lost my mind like this.”

  “I know.” Angie smiled. Boy did she. In their years as friends, Angie had memorized Zoey’s monthly cycle, just so she’d know when to steer far clear of her emotionally volatile friend. Most women got a little insane on their period, but Zoey took it to another level completely, especially when her mind inevitably wandered over to her late parents. Zoey’s hormones had nearly ended their ten-year friendship on more occasions than Angie could count.

  “Now it’s like I’m on my period every single day. Every single thing sets me off.” Zoey’s face suddenly collapsed with tears. “And I love him so much… I don’t want him to think I’m completely crazy.”

  “It’s normal for a woman to be hormonal during pregnancy. Your estrogen levels are through the roof. Hormones actually plays a pretty big role in the development of the fetus, but it shouldn’t last longer than the second trimester, max.”

  “How do you know that?” Zoey cried. “Why do you know everything? It’s awful. I hate that about you!”

  Angie cocked her lip up and her head back, watching as Zoey all but shoved the balled up tissue in her hand up her stuffy nose. She knocked her knee against Zoey’s. “Hey? Do you think nine months is too long for us to just… stop being friends? Just until you’re a little less insane?”

  Zoey shoved her knee against Angie’s in retaliation, and Angie finally moved to the other side of the bathroom so she and Zoey were shoulder to shoulder. She wrapped her arm around her. “Anyway… you are completely crazy, Zo. At 24, you’ve offered up your uterus to your pseudo-brother, who you’ve always claimed to hate. Then you decided to start sleeping with him instead, then you were dumb enough to fall for him, and now you’re on the road to becoming his pseudo-sister, slash wife.” At Angie’s words, Zoey’s head immediately fell onto her shoulder, and she exploded into a hysterical round of sob-laughs. “It’s nearly impossible that Val doesn’t already know you’re crazy. And if he doesn’t? Well, he’s gonna learn today.”