Breathe You In

by Joya Ryan

  “I’m changing the rules.”

  “You can’t honestly think I’m wired,” I said, challenging the ridiculous notion he’d used before to support his “naked talk time rule.”

  He simply shrugged.

  I backed away from him, hating where this conversation was going. Even after the past several weeks together, it seemed I’d still made no progress in getting him to trust me.

  “Maybe I just like talking to you when you’re naked,” he said, and walked past me toward the car.

  Whatever was going on with him had some seriously dark roots, and I had a bad feeling those roots ran deeply.

  All I could do was follow him and get in the car. He didn’t say a word as the driver began the trek down the long driveway. As we wound between the trees on either side of the road, I watched the sun set over upstate New York.

  “Roman?” He glanced at me, tension still radiating from him. “Will you talk to me?”

  “About what?”

  “About what happened back there.”

  “Nothing happened.” He glared, warning me that he was serious about his threat earlier.

  “I know what horror feels like. The moment we stepped into that house, you changed. And why on earth would you treat your mother that way? She’s so nice and—”

  “You don’t know a goddamned thing about her!” He banged his fist against the privacy glass and the car came to a complete stop.

  Throwing open his door, he grabbed my hand and exited the car, pulling me with him. Keeping a tight grip on me, he walked off the road and into the forest.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, trying to keep up as he wound through the trees, taking us deeper into the dense woods.

  “I made myself clear earlier, Amy. You want to talk?” He gently pushed me up against a big tree, and my back hit the smooth trunk. Standing in front of me, Roman began tugging at my dress.

  “I don’t like that house because I’ve spent plenty of time in it already, and as far as my mother goes, there isn’t a responsible, trustworthy bone in her body.”

  Though my skin prickled with cold, my blood was hot, rushing through me quicker and quicker with every sweep of Roman’s hands and yank on my clothes. Apparently unhappy with the sturdiness of my dress, he reached underneath it and ripped my panties away. My body responded to him in every way, just like it was trained to do. I cupped his face and tried to coax him to look at me.

  “What happened?”

  He paused for a moment and looked me in the eye. “Why is it so important for you to know?”

  There was something so raw, so untrusting in his voice that it chipped another piece of my heart. I knew that he had trouble trusting people, that he didn’t like talking about his personal life or past—that much we had in common. But this? This was something deep. Something that had shaped him.

  “I just want to know you. To understand,” I whispered.

  He shook his head and went back to running his hands up my legs. Just the feel of him, all his strength and intensity, was enough to make my core throb and ache. There was the sound of a belt being unfastened, but I couldn’t see. Between the dark gray evening sky and Roman pressed against me, all I could make out were his blazing eyes. His whole body was racked with tension.

  “Why do you hate your home?” I tried again.

  He scoffed. “That place has never felt like home. You know what does, though?”

  He gripped my knee and brought it to his waist. There was no warning before he thrust his hard cock inside me. I gasped and gripped his shoulders.

  “This…” He withdrew and surged back, filling me to the hilt once more. “This feels like home.”

  He kissed me hard. I was stunned. Dazed. Didn’t know what to think, but didn’t want him to stop. Yet he did. He pulled out completely, and I heard a rustling. When he returned, I felt him enter me once more, only this time, he was covered in latex.

  For a brief moment, Roman and I had been connected with no barriers. And it had felt amazingly right.

  Keeping a tight grip on my knee, he slowly thrust in and out. Coaxing my every breath to come quicker, leaving me panting for more.

  “I was six when she started locking me in there,” he breathed against my mouth. Darting his tongue inside, he took a deep taste, then buried his face in my neck. “For days at a time, she locked me in the closet.”

  I wove my fingers in his hair, his assault on my body making it difficult to process his words. But either because he felt vulnerable or strong enough to do so, he was finally opening up. I just wanted to be there, to catch him, help him, anything he’d let me do.

  “Why?” I whispered.

  His grip tightened, yanking my ass off the tree and holding me flush against him. He was so deep, so rigid, that my body smoldered around him.

  “My father was in DC all the time,” he rasped, and pounded even harder inside of me. “My mother would leave to see her dealer and end up being gone for days. Every time she left, she locked me in the hall closet with a loaf of bread and a carton of juice.”

  He pounded faster, harder. I held on to him, my heart breaking while my body burned. I thought of a six-year-old Roman. Terrified and locked away in a small space. In the dark, alone, not knowing what had happened to his mother or when he would get out.

  Everything was coming together, but my brain was struggling. Distracted and consumed by Roman inside of me. Which was likely what he was going for. This way, I couldn’t form questions. Couldn’t think straight.

  “I’m here,” I whispered, the only thing that made sense to say.

  He held me closer.

  Regina was paying for past sins that Roman might never forgive. For now, all I could do was wrap my arms around him, and hold on as hard as I could. Whatever he needed, I’d do.

  “I’m here,” I said again. “I won’t leave.”

  My body was helpless against his, and a slow, intense release came over me, shuddering through my entire body. He was right behind me. I felt his strong muscles flex and harden and his breathing roughen.

  “Amy,” he said on his last thrust. Still inside of me, he leaned back enough to look at my face. Those blazing eyes were boiling black pits. “Don’t bring this up again.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Here’s your sweet and sour,” Paige said, handing me a carton of takeout. “I’ve missed you around here.”

  Sitting on the couch, I forked my food and nodded. “I’ve missed you too. Have you been keeping crazy hours?”

  Paige chomped on a dumpling and nodded. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to be in sweatpants right now,” she said around a mouthful.

  Hazel had a late study group tonight, giving Paige and me a chance to catch up about the past week. Between traveling with Roman, playing house with him for a weekend, and the revelation in the woods, I didn’t know where to start.

  “Paige, you talked about how Roman’s past gets dug into because he’s running for reelection, right?”

  She nodded. “It’s usually worse the first time around. So far this campaign has been pretty smooth. No big skeletons.”

  How did I ask Paige about things and keep Roman’s confidence? If Roman’s mother had been an addict, wouldn’t the press have found out? And what about all he had endured? I thought of the one question I’d asked Roman all those weeks ago when he’d proposed this arrangement:

  Can something like this really be kept a secret?

  I didn’t how much Roman hid, but I did know he hid things well. If there was anything I could to help him, I’d like to know. A small flare of rage simmered low in my gut at the thought of what others might do with facts like those Roman had told me.

  “Has there ever been an issue involving his mother?”

  She stopped eating and looked at me. “Why do you ask?”

  “Because I met her. She’s really nice, but there’s definitely some tension.”

  I was treading lightly because, again, I didn’t know how much every
one else knew and how much was concealed. Judging by the look on Paige’s face, she was privy to more than she had previously let on. I sighed and looked at my lap.

  “I just don’t want him to hurt. I don’t know what’s going on, don’t know what to ask, and don’t want to push too hard, but, Paige,” I shook my head, “I saw something in his eyes. Something…broken.”

  There were so many things in life I wished I could fix. I wished I could have fixed Lauren, helped her before she’d ever had the opportunity to dive as deep as she did with drugs. I wished I could fix my relationship with my parents.

  I wished I could fix myself.

  But of all the things that were wrong in my little world, I wanted nothing so badly as to fix whatever was currently hurting Roman. There was pain, anger, and mistrust in him, and damn it, I wanted to take that away. I may have failed all the other times, but not this time. Not with him. There had to be something I could do.

  “If I just understood…” I mumbled, more to myself than to my friend.

  Paige stared at me for a long moment, then finally stuck her chopsticks in her carton and leaned in.

  “There are sealed medical records and other files that have magically disappeared.”

  My brows shot up. “What files?”

  “Records of rehab stays. Missing person’s reports. Things like that.”

  My whole forehead crinkled, and I felt it go straight to my skull. Roman had said she’d gone to meet her dealer and stayed away for days. Losing track of time was not uncommon when an addict was high. But she had tried to go to rehab too? Something must have stuck eventually because she seemed sober now.

  “And the medical records?”

  “Rumors of stomach pumps, a laceration claim, and an overdose incident. There’s nothing concrete, it’s been covered up well,” Paige offered and resumed eating. “We think the single actual sealed record is about Roman. He would have been about eight years old, I think, but we don’t know what he was seen for or why. It’s all just rumors at this point.”

  “Oh, my God. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

  Paige frowned. “Because this,” she motioned her hand between the two of us, “is what’s called speculation. If taken further, it could be considered slander. Not to mention, it’s part of my job to keep shit like this under wraps.”

  “But you’re telling me now,” I said softly, so grateful Paige trusted me enough to speak about this.

  She nodded. “Because things are different now, aren’t they?”

  She looked at me as though reading my thoughts, waiting for me to admit the truth. My chest tightened on every breath.

  “I think I’m falling in love with him.” I ran my fingers over my temple. “But every time I think we’re moving forward, something stalls us. There are secrets, on both sides, and I feel the distance they bring. I hate it.”

  “It’s hard to trust, Amy,” Paige said like she knew firsthand. “People, for the most part, are assholes.”

  “I don’t think so,” I whispered.

  Paige smiled. “And that’s why you’re different. After Warren, you have every reason not to trust men. You have no reason to trust your parents, because all they do is wrongfully blame you. It’s easy to see why you’d have a hard time trusting. Yet you trust anyway.”

  I scoffed because holy crap, she was right. “I really am an idiot, aren’t I?”

  “No,” Paige looked truly upset by my statement. “You have hope. The kind that is unwavering and that, honey, makes you strong. Not stupid.”

  “You’re strong too,” I said.

  “I can’t see people the way you do, Amy. I probably never will. And unfortunately, instead of rose-tinted glasses, Roman wears gray ones. Giving your trust to someone completely is a lot to ask.”

  “It’s possible he may never give it, isn’t it?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. But you have to decide how far you’ll go for him. How much you can take before what he does give you is no longer enough.”

  “All I know is I can’t hurt him. Can’t not be around him. I just want him to be happy.”

  “Then he’s lucky to have you.”

  I took a bite of my food, wondering if Roman would ever really open up to me. Ever start trusting. Because the problem was, I didn’t know how much I could take. By the time I figured it out, it would be too late, of that I was certain. But walking away now wasn’t an option. Now or maybe ever.

  I clicked my fork against my plate and chewed quietly.

  “You’ve been awfully quiet this week,” Roman said from across the table. I kept my eyes on my food.

  “So have you.”

  “I’ve had a lot of meetings.”

  “I know.” Election Day was drawing closer. I pushed my plate to the side and folded my hands in my lap.

  I could feel his stare on me. It was a small restaurant, echoing with the low hum of other couples, but all I could hear was the silence between us. Roman had made it very clear on more than one occasion that if he didn’t want to talk about something, he wouldn’t.

  Since visiting his parents last week, he’d gone back to his method of minimal interaction, which was fine. I needed to put in a good week at work before I left for Indiana this weekend.

  “I’ve missed you,” he said. I glanced up at him.

  “I’ve missed you too.” He didn’t move, not even his gaze from my face. “You realize this isn’t normal, right?” I said.

  “What isn’t?”

  “You and me. This.” I motioned between us.

  He crossed his arms over his chest and sat back in his chair. “Explain.”

  I wanted to laugh. One quick word, as though he were talking to one of his staff and expected this issue to be resolved as quickly as it had been brought to his attention. Too bad this wasn’t a quick fix.

  “We have these amazing moments together,” I started.

  “I agree,” he said, those dark eyes running from my mouth to my breasts and back up. I stifled the rising tingles and forced myself to continue.

  “Then something happens—like those amazing moments lead to a closeness, but that closeness ends up shutting us down. We don’t see much of each other for a few days, and all the progress we’ve made gets wiped away. And we’re back at square one.”

  And by that point, I was aching for Roman too badly to think straight. The rest of it, like trying to figure out the feelings between us, was pushed to the back of my mind, and all I wanted to do was show him how desperately I wanted him. Needed him.

  “I don’t know which square you are on”—he inflected his words so they stung straight to the center of me—“but I’m not on one.”

  I wanted to throw my hands up and beg him to give me something. Elaborate. Divulge details. I wanted to call his bullshit because he knew, just like I did, what I meant. You can’t go from zero to sexy to uncertainty in less than sixty and not have whiplash. Taking a deep breath and a page from Roman’s book, I remained still, calm, and said a single word.

  “Explain,” I said.

  His mouth turned up at the edge in amusement. We both knew this was now a battle of wills. The reality of our situation was jumping back and forth between us, even without being acknowledged.

  “I think of you all the time. Your smell, your smile, the way your lips tremble against mine right before I sink inside of you,” he said.

  My breath caught in my throat, but Roman didn’t even blink. I’d wanted an explanation—apparently he’d raised that to full disclosure.

  “I don’t like you knowing certain things about me. I can see it on your face: always thinking, trying to figure things out, just like you are now. What’s worse is, I’m giving you information I don’t typically share.”

  “And you don’t like that?” I asked, repeating his words, my stomach hurting from his admission.

  “No. Yet, I still do it.”

  “You give me pieces,” I agreed.

  But those pieces left more question
s. All I wanted was to feel normal, and to have him feel normal with me. As I knew and had pointed out, little was normal about the relationship between me and Roman. It would have me flying high with happiness, burning hot with desire and lust I hadn’t known existed, then leave me confused. The high was amazing, but the crashes were becoming increasingly difficult to handle.

  “Pieces are better than nothing,” he stated, as if he’d just won the discussion and was ready to move on.

  “The problem is, you’re not happy. Don’t you see how that is an issue?” I asked.

  “I never said that. I said I didn’t like sharing certain things with you.”

  Okay, that time I did throw my hands up. “Problem. That is a problem.”

  He leaned in and ensnared my attention with a look so deadly I shivered. “Yet, I still do it.”

  “Then you ignore me.” I shook my head, which hurt all the way to the base of my neck.

  There was no way to win. Roman was attempting to open up, yet he wasn’t happy about it, and the few pieces of information he had shared had caused him to shut me out for the next several days. The cycle was exhausting and splitting me apart, because I didn’t know what to fight for anymore. It was like I was going against him in order to save him.

  “Don’t do that,” he said in a low voice. I looked up at him.

  “Do what?”

  “That.” His gaze took in every angle of my face. “That look. Like you’re hurting.”

  I was. But so was he. He just did a much better job of masking his emotions and burying the past than I did.

  “God damn it,” he mumbled, and his hands clenched on the table. “I don’t know how to handle you, Amy. All I know is that you want something I don’t want to give. And when I offer a middle ground, it still doesn’t appear to be enough for you.”

  “I just…” I just what? Was falling in love with him and had no idea if he reciprocated any real feelings for me? Wanted to know him, be myself with him, and have him be able to relax and be himself with me?