Breathe You In

by Joya Ryan

  Yes, I needed time to think, reflect. But it wasn’t space I was looking for, it was him. The wall he’d put up, the delineation between intimacy and physical contact, was a barrier that posed a lot of problems.

  Later, I reminded myself. I’d tackle that later. First I needed to find out what my hard limits were. What I was willing to give up, or give in to. What I was willing to concede. But one thing was certain—intimacy wouldn’t be one of them.

  “Can we just chalk it up to the fact that both of us were caught off guard and got a little emotional?” I said.

  He grinned. “Politicians don’t get emotional.”

  I raised my brows. “Seriously? That’s what you’re going with?”

  He shrugged. “Depends. Are you buying it?”

  I smiled and shook my head. “Nope.”

  Warmth bloomed through my belly. This was the Roman I craved. The one I’d been missing. Though the more I thought about it, the more I realized how the different pieces of him blended together, creating a potent dose of strong, seductive male I couldn’t resist. This is what I needed, what we needed. The casual, sweet conversation of a couple.

  I glanced around. “I haven’t seen Paige today.”

  She had been gone when I’d gotten up this morning, and I’d figured she was working. Every time there was a function, she typically worked from dawn until late at night.

  “She and Bill are taking care of media issues. She’ll be here tonight.”

  I nodded. The idea of having Paige close by made me feel better.

  “You nervous?” he asked.

  “Of course I am.”

  He grinned and looked down. “Are your shoes more comfortable at least?”

  I thought of that night, his hands on my calves and how easy things had been with him. How he’d made me feel like I was acceptable just as I was. “Yes, thank you.”

  “There are dresses to choose from in my room, and Selena will do your hair and makeup. She’ll be here in about an hour.”

  Yikes. This was getting more and more real, and my nerves were rising.

  “I’ve got a few things to take care of, but I’ll come get you when it’s time so we can walk down and greet everyone together.”

  I nodded. He cupped my face in both hands, his palms covering the majority of my cheeks and neck, and brushed his lips over mine. The feel of his soft mouth swept over me while his hands remained steady and strong, holding me close. Hard and soft. Intense and controlled.

  Against my lips he whispered, “Wear your hair down tonight.”

  Chapter Ten

  I watched Paige hold court with a few men and women on the other side of the ballroom. The band was playing softly, and everyone had a glass of champagne. Aside from the night I’d met Roman, I’d never felt so out of place, especially since a few pictures had been snapped of me and the residual effect of the flashing light was still burning my retinas.

  Clinking my fingernails against the crystal glass, I glanced between Paige and Roman. He was near the middle of the room, smiling and chatting. The man looked good in a tux, and people were all but shoving checks into his pocket in support of his campaign.

  Roman had introduced me to various people earlier, and while Selena had done a great job on my makeup and hair, I’d still felt transparent. Like everyone could see right through me. I was sipping my champagne, happy to be lost in the crowd, when I felt a tap on my shoulder. Smile in place, I turned around.

  My gut plummeted and I almost wretched.

  “W-warren?”

  He smiled, way too sinister and happy to see me.

  “Look at you, moving up in the world.” He took my champagne glass and drained the contents. “And here I thought you were just a simple girl from Indiana.”

  His breath smelled of something much stronger than champagne, and suddenly finding myself in his presence again made me want to bolt out the door.

  “It’s been a long time.” His blue eyes skated over me, leaving me feeling cheap in their wake. “You look good.”

  It wasn’t a compliment; it was a pity statement. Boredom and condescension dripped from every word.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, trying to keep the shock from my voice.

  “I could ask you the same thing.”

  “I’m here with the governor,” I said, straightening my posture a little.

  Pretending to be confident had never been so hard, mostly because the last time I’d seen Warren was when I’d walked in on him with another woman. He’d only laughed, and explained he’d been using me to maintain his grades and his standing in his family. Then he’d asked me to let myself out. I hadn’t seen him since.

  “The governor, huh? I saw you on his arm earlier and thought he was doing some kind of charity work.”

  Okay, that dig really smarted. But Warren had never been one to walk away unless he’d fully demolished you.

  “That’s nice for you though, Amy,” he snickered.

  My pulse beat in my temples. “Is there something you want, Warren?”

  “No, just being polite to an old friend.” He grabbed another flute from a passing tray. “And I’m here to support my mother. Assemblywoman Cunningham. She’s retiring this year.”

  I nodded and looked around, trying to find anything to save me from this conversation. Paige was still talking, but I caught Roman’s eye from across the room. He was still engaged in conversation, but his gaze darted from me to Warren and back, darkening with every sweep.

  “So.” Warren stepped closer and pointedly looked down on me from his superior height. “How’s the family?”

  I swallowed hard. “My family is fine.”

  He nodded. “You still obsessed with saving the world?”

  At any other time, with any other person, I would have called him out on his disrespect and walked away. But my feet were frozen, my pulse was rising, and every awful memory from my past was playing before me.

  There was nothing I could say. In college, I’d talked constantly about what I was going to do when I graduated. How I was going to make a difference: preserve Lauren’s memory. And then, just like now, Warren had only mocked me, making it clear he wasn’t interested in my dreams. But to defend myself now would be giving him information I didn’t want him to have, like where I worked and what I did.

  “I’m still passionate about the anti-drug cause.” I knew he didn’t care and was really making fun of me. I just wanted to get out of this conversation.

  “Really? Well, that would be a change. You passionate about something.” He laughed and took another drink.

  Water rushed to my eyes. He used to tell me how frigid I was…in every area of our relationship. Which was why we’d only explored those areas a few times, and I’d always walked away with tears and insecurity.

  “You really are a terrible man, aren’t you?” I whispered.

  “Excuse me?”

  I stared at him, which I hated, because everything about him—from his dull blue eyes to his sandy hair and rude expression—made me want to crawl into a hole and never come out.

  I looked around again, my glance resting on Roman for a few moments. I tried to think of good things, to grasp to the fact that a lot had changed since I’d seen Warren last, and I was older and smarter now. But despite that, he had all my dark secrets, all my insecurities, wrapped in a perfect package that he could unleash at any moment.

  “You want to talk about terrible people?” he snarled, glaring at me.

  He leaned in way too close for comfort.

  “We should be talking about you then. Shouldn’t we, Amy?” He grinned, and my windpipe closed.

  Pulling back, he took another drink, and I felt the urge to cross my arms over my chest and become as small as possible, as small as I felt at that moment.

  Years ago, after a particularly horrible talk with my mother, I’d broken down and told Warren everything. My part in Lauren’s death, and how I could have saved her. How I should have taken her to the
hospital instead of home.

  That it was my fault she had died…

  Instead of consoling me, he’d affirmed what my mother already thought and what I was fighting:

  I’m a terrible person.

  “Having a nice time?” Roman’s deep voice asked from behind me. His palm rested on the curve between my neck and shoulder, and I felt instantly comforted, as though my muscles had received a fresh dose of strength.

  “Yes, sir.” Warren smiled and shook Roman’s free hand. “Looking forward to next term.”

  I glanced up at Roman, who pulled me a little closer. “Indeed.”

  “I hear you have a strong campaign going this year, but the competition seems pretty solid. Going to be a tight race, eh, Governor?” Warren said, all cocky attitude.

  Roman didn’t seem impressed, and I couldn’t blame him. There was nothing impressive about Warren other than his bank account, and frankly, that only mattered to some. I wasn’t one of them.

  “I see you’ve met my girlfriend,” Roman said, and gave me a gentle yet possessive squeeze.

  Warren’s eyes widened. Apparently he either hadn’t believed me, or had figured I was just a one night date, and the word girlfriend caught him off guard.

  “Wow.” He took a step back. “Girlfriend? That’s…” Warren frowned. Either the liquor or his lack of brain cells was getting to him.

  “How do you two know each other?” A rough edge tinted Roman’s question.

  “We went to college together,” I offered quickly, not interested in explaining the embarrassing details. Warren, however, managed to gather his wits and correct me in typical asshole fashion.

  “Dated in college,” he amended with a disgusting smile.

  Roman’s entire body tensed, and the energy crackling between him and Warren instantly shifted to something very unnerving. My blood pressure was high and my skin felt too tight for my bones. I forced myself to take calming breaths, trying to ward off the anxiety.

  “Is that right?” Roman looked at me. “Small world.”

  “We were just catching up,” Warren continued. “Chatting about her family. Her sister.”

  I swallowed hard and folded my lips together briefly, trying to keep the nervousness and discomfort down. A cold sweat lined my brow, but my cheeks were so hot I was afraid I might pass out. My pulse was increasing, getting louder and louder, until I could barely hear anything else. I was on the brink of having a panic attack—I felt it rising in me, like a hungry monster rousing from sleep.

  I tried again to take a steady breath through my nose, but it wasn’t helping. Roman’s arm encircled my waist, and it wasn’t until I felt his strong hold that I realized I’d been swaying.

  “Are you alright, sweetheart?” he said softly.

  I blinked several times, but the blur wouldn’t clear.

  “I just need a moment,” I breathed, barely hearing my own words over the crashing blood in my head.

  Roman didn’t bother with niceties or pretend to acknowledge Warren any further. He just ushered me through the crowd quickly, until we reached a quiet hallway. As soon as I saw the stairs that led to Roman’s room, the dam broke. I couldn’t hold back the panic anymore.

  My breath shot from my lungs and intense heaving knocked me forward. Roman caught me just has my knees buckled, saving me from hitting the floor. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to keep from hyperventilating.

  Tears spilled from my eyes. My legs shook, and I clung to Roman’s arm.

  “Amy…Amy, sweetheart, look at me.”

  I heard Roman, but he sounded so far away. The world was spinning and all that remained was darkness. I couldn’t open my eyes, couldn’t breathe. I didn’t want to see Warren, his beady eyes judging me, damning me, spilling my secrets.

  I needed to get out of here. Away from everyone.

  I tried to stand, but it didn’t work. There was still a voice close by. Roman.

  I heaved again, but couldn’t get enough oxygen. Roman said something, but I couldn’t understand him.

  Suddenly I was weightless, floating, supported by a wall of muscle. I clung to that wall. Clung to Roman. He was carrying me. I didn’t know where to, but I didn’t want to risk opening my eyes. I buried my face in his neck and held on, inhaling his scent, his warmth. I felt small again, but this time, it didn’t feel like a bad thing.

  A door opened and shut. I took another breath, and another, focusing on Roman’s scent: spicy, divine, powerful. Focusing on how his heart thumped in his chest, steady and smooth. I let its rhythm move through me, hoping my own heart would take a hint.

  “We’re alone now, Amy.” I felt him sit, his grip remaining tight, keeping me on his lap. “Open your eyes. Look at me.”

  My heart was still racing and my breaths were quicker than normal, but I was backing away from the brink. I opened my eyes, slowly. When the blur started to fade, dark eyes came into view just inches from my own.

  “Deep breath,” he said. “Good girl, just like that.”

  I was sprawled over his lap while he sat on his bed. He cupped my neck in both hands, keeping my face near his. The tips of our noses touched. He breathed deeply, slowly.

  “Good. Just like I’m doing. In,” he inhaled and I followed. “And out.” He exhaled, his lips so close that I breathed his sweetness into my lungs.

  I could taste him already. Crisp and hot.

  When my breathing had slowed, he leaned back enough to look at me. With my neck still clasped in his hands, he swept his thumbs along my cheekbones, wiping away the wetness left by my tears.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, but it came out more like a croak.

  “Don’t be. Are you okay? Do you have anxiety pills?”

  I frowned. “How do you know I take medication?” It was only on occasion but the fact that he knew was surprising.

  “I know what a panic attack looks like.” He wiped my cheeks again. “And I’ve researched you, remember?” He grinned a little, and I mirrored it.

  “Right.”

  “Do you want to tell me what that was about?”

  The instant need to run enveloped me. It must have showed, because his arms tightened.

  “You don’t have to tell me now,” he clarified. “But you’re not going anywhere just yet.”

  I calmed a little. “I just…I have an issue with Warren Cunningham.”

  He scoffed and smiled, those damn dimples disarming me and making the last of my nerves fade away.

  “Yeah, I gathered that. Is he the one ex-boyfriend you were telling me about?”

  I looked down and nodded.

  “I see.”

  Roman’s whole body tensed, and I felt anger radiating from him. Was he mad at me? Almost everyone had at least one ex, and I didn’t think he knew how Warren had used me. Something like that wouldn’t be in a “file.” It was a personal tidbit that no one except Paige knew, and she’d never tell. The only other person who knew my darkest secrets was Warren. Because like an idiot, I had trusted him.

  “It didn’t end well,” I murmured, hoping that was enough.

  Roman inhaled deeply and I felt his chest flex farther. I didn’t want to talk about Warren or relive the past. A change of subject was the best I could do.

  “How did you know I was having a panic attack? Have you seen them before?”

  He nodded, but his face remained hard and his eyes like black steel. “Something like that.”

  I searched his face. Something that looked like shame flicked across his expression so quickly, I almost missed it.

  “Do you have them?” I asked softly.

  “Not anymore,” he said. “I did a few times when I was a kid.”

  My hands started to fist his shirt, but I held back, not wanting to wrinkle his tux any more than I already had by sitting on him. I remembered the hard muscles and tan skin beneath the formal attire. The open, raw energy currently pouring from him was such a contradiction to his usual composure.

  “Do you want to tell me about
it?” I asked.

  “No.” The word was quick and definite. No room for questions. Which I could understand. I would respect his boundaries in this, just like he was respecting mine. The other night had shown how far each of us could be pushed. Roman liked control, especially over himself and his world. That much was perfectly clear. Why he kept such a tight grip on situations and people, I didn’t know. But I didn’t want to go there, or poke too much only to have him close up completely.

  Something was hidden deep within Roman. Maybe I would see it in time. Maybe not. But whatever it was, it was dark. That much I could feel.

  “Thank you for getting me out of there. I hope I didn’t cause a scene.”

  His thumb trailed from my cheek to my bottom lip. “No one noticed.”

  “Won’t they notice you’re gone?” I breathed, as his thumb kept up a slow sweep along my mouth.

  “We have time.” His voice was gravelly and low, and held the same tone I’d heard Monday night before things went to hell. “Why don’t I take you home?”

  And again, like Monday night, it was as if some kind of “helpless” sign had flashed across my forehead. That was not what I’d been expecting—hoping—he would say next.

  “But this fundraiser is important. I can handle it.” Even as the words came out, the thought of going back down and facing everyone, mostly Warren, made my stomach churn.

  “It’s getting late and guests are already leaving. I think we should call it a night for you.”

  “Oh.” I glanced at my hands, suddenly feeling like a child. Then I looked him in the eye one more time. He leaned in slightly, his mouth so close I could almost taste him. But he didn’t close the distance. Instead, he pulled back again. My hands itched with the need to reach out and cling to him. To bring him close. Instead, I got up and stood on shaky legs.

  He rose as well and buttoned his tux jacket. I ran my hands over my dress, trying to straighten it. I didn’t even want to think about how my face looked after that mess.

  “I’m not going to kiss you,” he said, standing before me. “Because if I do, a whole hell of a lot more will happen.”

  My breath caught, but he didn’t let me speak. He just grabbed my hand and tugged me toward the door.