Roman's Having Sex Again

by Nikki Ashton

  ‘I should get showered; you’re right, I do stink. Plus, I promised you that we’d have a day together, and lying here in my pit is not fulfilling my promise to my beautiful girlfriend.’

  He reached up and kissed me, pulling me closer with a hand to the back of my head.

  ‘I love you,’ he whispered against my mouth.

  ‘I know,’ I replied. ‘I love you too; now get in that shower.’

  Roman laughed and pulled the duvet back, throwing his legs out of bed. I watched as he walked, naked, across the room to the en suite bathroom. One of these days I was going to test that theory of being able to crack a nut on his beautiful arse.

  Once he was showered and dressed, Roman looked a lot better. His eyes were still tired, but he didn’t stink. Well, he did smell, but it was a gorgeous lemon and musk scent. As he pulled me into his arms, I noticed a small cut on his lip.

  ‘What happened to your lip? I didn’t notice that upstairs.’

  ‘Think I remember falling into the wardrobe door last night, I caught my side too,’ Roman muttered, fingering his lip.

  I pulled up his T-shirt and my eyes travelled down his body. I spotted a sizable blue bruise on his right side, just below his ribs. ‘God, you really did clatter yourself, didn’t you?’

  Roman winced. ‘Yeah, I was absolutely wasted, so we could find other wreckage around the house throughout the day.’

  I sighed and kissed the small cut on his lip.

  ‘Do your ribs need strapping up? I asked.

  ‘No, they’re fine. My head hurts more.’

  ‘Well, next time you feel like that just ask me to come over, and I’ll distract you away from the demon drink.’

  ‘Oh you will, will you?’ he laughed pulling my hips closer to his. ‘And how will you do that?’

  ‘I have lots of little tricks.’

  ‘Yes, you do,’ he groaned before capturing my mouth in a searing, hot kiss.

  Roman’s hand slid down to cup the cheek of my bum and gripped it firmly, his other hand was at the side of my head, his thumb gently rubbing against my jaw. I stood on tiptoe, pushed myself against his firmness and moaned against his mouth.

  ‘Roman.’

  ‘God, you feel and taste good,’ he said as his lips moved to my neck. ‘I’m not sure I want to do anything today, but keep you naked.’

  ‘That sounds good to me.’

  My fingers wove through his freshly washed and combed hair, and as I felt the zip on my skirt slide down, I knew that Roman was going to get his wish about keeping me naked all day.

  At eight on Monday morning, when we walked into the office, Brendan was waiting outside the door.

  ‘Hey, Brendan,’ Roman said, unlocking the outer office door. ‘What brings you here? There isn’t a problem at the site, is there?’

  Brendan’s gang was making a start on the restaurant extension at Darrington Hall, and he usually liked to have them start at seven in the morning.

  ‘No,’ Brendan said with a sigh, ‘but I thought you ought to know.’

  My heart started to thud erractically, wondering what shit news would be coming Roman’s way now. If it was anything to do with Jack Abbott, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stop Roman seeking him out and doing him damage.

  ‘Okay, lay it on me.’ Roman’s shoulders sagged as he opened his own office door and ushered Brendan in.

  He flopped down into his chair, indicating for Brendan to sit also. I hovered in the doorway, in case strong black coffee was required.

  ‘Well, as I’m his immediate boss, it was me the police called.’

  ‘The police?’ Roman asked. ‘Don’t tell me one of the lads has been nicking stuff, please.’

  Brendan shook his head. ‘No, boss, I wish it was that.’

  ‘What is it, then?’ Roman’s eyes narrowed as he laid his hands on the arm of his chair, ready to push himself up.

  ‘It’s Alfie,’ Brendan said quietly. ‘He’s been beaten up and is in hospital, and whoever did it has apparently made a real mess of his face.’

  My heart was in my throat, as Brendan explained that Alfie had been found in an alleyway, beaten up and unconcious. He hadn’t come around yet, but they thought he may have got a few punches in because his knuckles were bruised.

  Roman listened to everything Brendan had to say without comment, then he sat back in his seat and pinched the bridge of his nose.

  ‘Fuck,’ he muttered.

  ‘Yeah, I know,’ Brendan replied. ‘He’s a pain in my damn arse, but I wouldn’t wish that on him.’

  ‘Does he have any family?’ Roman asked.

  He then turned to me.

  ‘Summer, if he has family, can you arrange for some flowers to be delivered.’

  I nodded, but couldn’t move, and my eyes went instinctively to Roman’s own hand that that had scabbing knuckles. I couldn’t help the ‘what if’s’ that were running around my head.

  ‘He doesn’t have anyone, Summer,’ Brendan said, breaking my thoughts. ‘He lives in a flat just outside of Rickeby, but he lives there alone. The police said his parents are both dead.’

  ‘I’ll send them to the hospital instead,’ I replied, snatching a glance at Roman.

  He was looking into the distance, his fingers steepled and his chin resting on them. He looked troubled, which scared me to death.

  Surely he hadn’t done this? He’d had the run-in with Alfie, but it was nothing serious, and we’d both been really happy since that day. I hadn’t even spoken to or seen Alfie since then, so what reason would he have to do something like this?

  ‘Do the police have any ideas who did it?’ Roman asked, his eyes suddenly on Brendan.

  Brendan shook his head. ‘Nah, but I’ll bet it’s some angry boyfriend or husband. You know what Alfie’s like, he doesn’t give a shit whose woman he comes on to.’

  Bile rose in my throat as Brendan’s words registered. I could hardly breathe as thoughts of Roman beating Alfie to a pulp filled my head.

  ‘Yeah,’ Roman said on a long sigh. ‘He really doesn’t do himself any favours, does he? Okay, Brendan, keep me informed. I’ll call the hospital and see if there’s anything he needs.’

  Brendan nodded and got up. ‘Okay, boss, and sorry to bring you such shit news, first thing on a Monday morning.’

  ‘No problem.’ Roman turned to me. ‘Summer, can you give the hospital a call, and see if they’ll give you any information?’

  ‘Yes, okay,’ I replied quietly and returned to my desk.

  I sat staring at the phone for a few minutes, wondering what I should do: whether I should ask Roman straight out if he’d done it.

  I also wondered whether I was being an awful girlfriend, to even think it could be possible, but I’d seen Roman almost break a man’s nose for putting a hand on me, and we weren’t even together then.

  Roman wasn’t stupid, surely he wouldn’t risk everything just because Alfie had put his arm around me, would he? I turned to look at his office door, which was now firmly closed.

  I should just ask him.

  Getting up from my seat, I took a deep breath, and put a hand to my stomach to try and quell the uneasiness. I knew that I had to do this, otherwise it would create a huge wall between us.

  I knocked on the door and waited; after a few seconds Roman shouted for me to go in.

  He was leaning against his desk, looking at a blueprint. ‘Is it news from the hospital?’ he asked, turning to me.

  I swallowed and shook my head.

  ‘I haven’t called yet, I wanted to talk to you first.’

  Roman’s brow furrowed as he pushed up to his full height and faced me.

  ‘Okay.’

  Moving inside his office, I felt for the door behind me and closed it.

  ‘I need to ask you something.’ I took a huge breath and then licked my lips. ‘Did you beat Alfie up?’

  There, I’d said it: the horrifying thought that had been going through my mind had been spoken.

  Roman�
��s eyes widened, as his hands went to his hips.

  ‘Say that again.’

  His voice was incredulous. As he spoke, he shook his head in disbelief.

  ‘I asked if you beat Alfie up.’

  Chewing on my bottom lip, I took a step closer to him.

  ‘I’m sorry, Roman, but I need to know.’

  ‘And what the hell made you come to that conclusion?’ His eyes were dark, but there was slight curve to his lips, as though he found the idea hilarious.

  ‘Your busted knuckles, your bruises and cut lip.’

  ‘And I told you how I got those,’ he replied, dropping his gaze to the floor.

  I gasped, because I knew that he was lying.

  ‘Oh my God, Roman. What the hell have you done?’

  Nausea swirled in my stomach as I pictured Roman punching Alfie. I whimpered and slapped a hand to my mouth.

  Roman was in front of me within a stride.

  ‘I did not damn well beat Alfie Chambers up,’ he stated. ‘And I can’t believe that you would even think that. What the fuck sort of a person do you think I am?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I cried, ‘I thought I knew you, but I know you’re lying about how you got those injuries.’

  For the second time, Roman’s eyes stared down at the floor.

  ‘Roman, please just tell me the truth, because I know you didn’t get those cut knuckles by punching a wall.’

  His head shot up and his eyes were full of remorse, making my heart drop.

  ‘You really think so little of me?’ he asked, and I could see his devastation. Tears pricked at my lashes as I reached for his hand.

  ‘No, Roman, I love you, but I need you to trust me.’

  He reeled away from me, pulling his hand free and stormed over to his desk. He snatched up his mobile and walked back to me, all the while flicking at the screen.

  ‘Here,’ he said, thrusting it at me.

  I took it tentatively and looked at the screen. At first I didn’t understand it, but reading it a third time, the words sank in:

  Marcus: You’re fighting at 11pm. Can get you another bout for next week if you do well.

  ‘You were boxing,’ I whispered, looking up at him.

  Roman shook his head. ‘No, Summer, I was bare-knuckle fighting.’ His tone was laced with ice, and, at that moment, I wished I’d waited and thought carefully about questioning him.

  ‘So, no, I didn’t beat up Alfie Chambers.’ Roman took his phone from my hand and pushed it into his pocket.

  ‘You could have been badly hurt,’ I said.

  ‘No, I couldn’t. Apart from being a damn good fighter, I didn’t do it.’

  He turned and walked away from me. Stopping in front of the filing cabinet and stared up at the ceiling.

  ‘Roman,’ I said softly. ‘Please talk to me.’

  He swivelled around towards me and took a deep breath.

  ‘It was an unlicensed bare-knuckle fight,’ he replied.

  ‘An illegal fight?’ I muttered. ‘W-why would you do that?’

  ‘Money, Summer. Because I need it for this business. ‘‘I was approached by Marcus to do this one-off fight,’ he continued. ‘It was more money than I’d ever made in a licensed fight, so I took him up on it.’

  ‘But if you didn’t fight, what happened to your knuckles and your side?’ I whispered, recalling the state that I’d found him in.

  ‘I really did hit the wall. The bruising of my ribs was courtesy of my opponent. I hit the wall at the warehouse where the fight was held, because once I got into the ring, I couldn’t go through with it—it brought back too many memories of … my last fight.’

  Roman’s voice broke as he spoke of his fight with Michael. I moved to him, holding out my arms, but he put a hand up to stop me, and it felt like a knife had been stabbed and twisted in my heart.

  ‘I let my opponent get one punch in to the ribs and then walked out. And then I hit the fucking wall. As for my lip, that was courtesy of Marcus for losing him a shitload of money.’

  He stared at me with a coldness, which made me shiver with fear at what he was going to say.

  ‘I’m so sorry, but I had to know.’

  ‘I’m sorry I lied to you, Summer, but you should know that after what happened with Michael I would never hit anyone to hurt them like Alfie has been hurt.’

  ‘The guy at the club, the one who touched me,’ I replied. ‘You almost broke his nose.’

  Roman shook his head. ‘You may not remember, but I didn’t punch him; I slammed the heel of my hand against his nose. I knew it wouldn’t break it, just make it bleed a little.’

  He was right, he had done that.

  ‘God, I’m sorry. I should have realised. What happened to Michael—’

  ‘Forget it,’ he said, interrupting me and taking his suit jacket from the back of his chair. He put it on and started to walk out.

  ‘Where are you going?’ I asked, trying to grab his arm, but Roman shrugged it off.

  ‘Out, and I think it best we don’t see each other tonight. I’ll be on-site for the next few days, so it’ll be a good time to get some space.’

  ‘Roman, please.’ My plea was a whimper as tears licked at my lashes.

  He didn’t stop. The door slammed behind him, leaving me alone in his office and wishing I could rewind the last half hour.

  I carried on through the rest of the day on automatic pilot, holding my breath every time the door opened or the telephone rang, but it was never Roman.

  I called him and texted him, but none of my calls or texts were returned. I knew he’d read the text messages because I watched the three little dots bouncing around, but no matter how long I continued to look at the screen, no message came back.

  As the day went on I felt sicker by the minute, allowing the tears to flow freely. Thankfully, no one came into the office to see what an emotional wreck I was.

  I couldn’t lose him: I loved him so much, and couldn’t contemplate what things would be like without him loving me. In just a few weeks, Roman had shown me the sort of man that I wanted to be with, and it was him. He was sweet and gentle with me, and had boosted my confidence when it was at its lowest over my possible infertility. He’d made me think more positively. The way he looked at me, and the words he spoke to me made me feel desirable—his love made me glow. Now I might have lost him.

  Half an hour before I was due to leave, I turned off my PC, snatched my coat from the coat stand and left the building, even pretending I hadn’t heard Amanda from Wages calling my name as I weaved my way through the desks of the main office.

  Once I was locked inside my car, the pain in my chest took over. I laid my head against the steering wheel and sobbed.

  ‘He should have damn well told me,’ I said to myself, through my tears. ‘He should have trusted me about the fight.’

  And he should have, but I knew that I should have trusted him too.

  After a few minutes, I pulled myself into some sort of semblance of calm, and started my car.

  I’d felt the pain, now I was feeling the anger. How dare he ignore me? I was going to tackle this head on. I was going to speak to him.

  As I pulled up outside Roman’s house, I saw that his truck wasn’t there, just Caroline’s Range Rover. I considered going in and waiting for him, but I didn’t want her knowing that there was a problem between us. I still didn’t trust her feelings towards Roman.

  I decided that I would return later, but before driving away I sent one more text:

  Me: Roman please talk to me. I’m sorry, so sorry. I love you xx

  I no longer felt angry, I was sad and heartbroken. As I watched the screen, this time there were no dancing dots.

  I drove around for a while, not wanting to go home. I didn’t want Mum and Dad to know I was upset—I couldn’t stand the thought of answering all their questions.

  Finally, after an hour and a half of aimless driving, I made my way back to Roman’s, hoping he’d be home. My optimism dip
ped as I approached the house: there was still only the Range Rover in the driveway. With a sigh, I drove past and decided to turn back at the next turning.

  I pulled into a nearby street, wondering where Roman might be, and whether I should go looking for him? As I contemplated this, I almost slammed on my brakes in an emergency stop. Standing next to a white van was Jack Abbott.

  ‘What the hell is he doing around here?’ I whispered.

  He was distracted by his phone, so I was able to check him out, and make sure it was definitely him as I drove past. It was.

  I watched in my rear-view mirror as he locked his van, and then walked up towards the road that Roman’s house was on. Quickly checking for traffic, I swung the car around in a quick U-turn. Slowing down, I waited for Jack to reach the junction, wondering which way he would go. He turned towards Roman’s house.

  As I got to the junction, I saw him stride up Roman’s driveway. I turned onto the road, flipped down my sun visor, and pulled on my sunglasses which were sitting in the centre console: if Caroline spotted me, it would be doubtful that she’d recognise my car. Just as I came level with the house, the front door opened, and Caroline ushered Jack in. He paused in the doorway, dropping a kiss to her lips, while she cradled his face.

  ‘You bloody bitch,’ I muttered, laying a hand against my thumping heart.

  My first instinct was to call Roman, but as my finger hovered over his number, I knew it was pointless. I tapped my phone against my chin, as I tried to think who I should call. Finally, I dialled a number. After a couple of rings, a bright, breezy voice answered.

  ‘Hey, Summer.’

  ‘Hi, Em,’ I sighed, ‘how do you feel about doing some spy work?’

  I met Emma in a pub a few streets away. She was already there waiting for me with a large glass of orange, by the time I got there.

  ‘Okay, spill,’ she said, pushing the glass towards me.

  I told her everything about Alfie, about Roman’s aborted fight and about him storming out of the office, leaving what I’d seen at his house until last.

  ‘And she definitely kissed him back?’ Emma asked, shocked.