Sweet Rome (Sweet Home)

by Tillie Cole

  “I agree, but I never pegged you for a British comedy nut.”

  “It’s Python,” I said simply. I held out my hand. “So let’s go. I surprised you once with my philosophy knowledge. I’m pretty sure I can do it again.”

  “Whatever, you’re twenty-one. I’m still only twenty and I’m already on my master’s. I doubt there’s anything you can show me, superstar. It’s my area of expertise.”

  There she went with that mouth again. Grabbing her hand, I pulled her to my chest, gripping her tight, and leaned in to whisper, “Maybe not in philosophy, but I can sure as hell show you other things, Mol—in my area of expertise.”

  “And what’s that?” she asked, and I smiled, feeling her heart beating like crazy in her chest.

  I ran my lips down the skin of her neck, kissing her pulse and teasing, “Much more… pleasurable things than work.”

  I caught her pause in breath, and, satisfied that I’d rattled her nerves, dragged her with me. “Come on, megabrain, let’s go research and get your dirty mind outta the gutter.”

  That’d teach her to try me.

  We worked in the library for hours. Not once did she push me to talk about my father, or about anything else; her mind was completely focused on her task. She kind of reminded me of Rain Man when she worked, totally immersed in her own little world.

  “Come on, Shakespeare, I’ll walk you home,” I finally said when Molly yawned for the fifth time in the space of ten minutes and my ass had begun to ache from sitting in one spot too long.

  “Yeah, okay.” She agreed tiredly, and we set off out of the library, only a few students still pulling all-nighters on the near-empty floors.

  The campus was pretty quiet as we walked down the main path, and happy that no one was around, I reached down, taking Molly’s hand in mine. At first her fingers stiffened at the action and she flashed a questioning look at me, but seeing my refusal to let go, she just let it be. It felt right having her close, and I liked that if anyone spotted us, it looked like she was mine. That sentiment sat better with me than it should have. I was Rome Prince. I didn’t do commitment with chicks, but Molly being on my arm just felt really fucking perfect.

  Halfway home, Molly asked, “Rome?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Did you have fun when you were away in Arkansas?”

  That question caught me off guard, and I glanced down at her head hanging low, wondering where the hell this conversation was heading.

  “Not really. Truth be told, I couldn’t wait to get back.” I pulled her to face me, trying to get a read on her mood. “What you getting at?”

  Kicking her toes into the grass beside us, she glanced up at me and said shyly, “Cass brought up some pictures of the after-game party you attended, on Facebook.”

  Frowning, I asked, “Yeah, so?”

  “Well, I saw what some of the guys were doing. You know, shots… Beer… Women… I didn’t see any of you, but…” She trailed off.

  Placing a finger beneath her chin, I forced her to meet my eyes again. “You want to know if I fucked anyone?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Well, I wouldn’t have put it quite so crassly, but… yeah, I suppose I do. I know it’s none of my business, so feel free to tell me to bugger off if I’ve gone too far.” Her eyes fell to the ground again.

  “Look at me,” I instructed, and she did so guardedly. “Plenty of groupies made a pass at me. They always do. I don’t really have to try too hard, Mol.”

  “Oh.” Her head bowed, and her shoulders slumped in disappointment. It made me beyond fucking happy that the thought of my being with someone else would bother her so much. “But I told them all to fuck off and went home alone,” I finished, and her head shot up.

  “You did?” she said with a happily surprised tone.

  “Yeah.” I leaned down and smirked. “None of them could argue about utilitarianism for shit!”

  She burst out laughing and retook my hand. I finished walking her back home, her hand this time slightly less tense in mine.

  It was the first night in a long time I slept right through with no nightmares… nothing on my mind but a certain damn cute brunette.

  9

  The next day, after early morning training, I showered and threw on my jeans and shirt in record time. Austin and Jimmy-Don glanced at each other from the other side of the locker room, shaking their heads in confusion at my haste.

  “Going somewhere?” asked Austin.

  Raking my fingers through my wet hair, I replied evasively, “Yeah, catch you later.” With that, I ran to the library and straight up to Professor Ross’s office, trying the handle.

  Locked.

  Shit.

  I checked the time; Molly would be here soon. There was only one thing for it. I’d have to see Ms. Rose. A shudder ran down my spine, knowing that the minute she spotted me, she’d be too excited and all over me like white on rice.

  Heading to the desk, I spotted long gray hair, and, leaning in on the counter, lilted, “Hey, Ms. Rose, how’s it going? Looking good. Purple’s your color.”

  She turned slowly on hearing my voice and beamed. “Rome Prince! How nice to see you, darlin’!” She approached the desk, her yellowing teeth showing as she pulled back her thin lips in a wide smile, moving to stand right before me. Shit, how she still worked at her age was a mystery to me. She had to be nearing a hundred.

  “What brings you here this early?”

  Giving her my best seductive smile, I said, “I need a favor.”

  She tilted her head, amused. “Now, you know I can’t be giving you any special treatment. Gotta treat all the students here the same.”

  “Oh, I know that Ms. Rose, but I thought, well, because we’re such good friends, you’d make an exception. Just this once?”

  Patting my hand with her bony fingers, she gushed, “Rome Prince, such a bad boy! And Lord knows I’ve never been able to resist a bad boy, especially one as handsome as you! What do you need, honey?”

  It always worked. “Can you open Professor Ross’s private office for me? I’m working in there today and forgot the key.”

  Winking, she lifted the counter and shuffled painfully to the elevator. “Let’s go before I get into trouble for breaking the rules.”

  Ms. Rose opened the office, switching on the light, and left me to it, but not before firmly patting me on my ass as she passed.

  I gaped at her retreating form in shock. Seriously?

  Throwing my bag to the table, chuckling at her audacity, I sat down and got comfortable, waiting for a certain Miss Shakespeare to arrive.

  Thirty minutes later and the door creaked opened, Molly jumping in surprise at my lazy stance, lying back in my seat.

  “It’s about time, Shakespeare. I’ve already written a goddamned thesis waiting on you.”

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, the biggest most fucking blinding smile on her face.

  Lifting off the seat, I moved to stand before her, saying, “I’m here to assist the assistant. Put me to work. I’m eager to please.” I waggled my eyebrows for extra effect.

  Setting down her book, she looked at me speculatively. “You want to tell me how you got in here, in a locked room?”

  “I have a secret admirer in the librarian. She opened it for me after a little sweet talk.” And a feel of my ass, but I didn’t feel entirely comfortable sharing that piece of information.

  “Ms. Rose? She’s like ninety!” Mol said, choking on a laugh.

  “Cougar on the prowl, more like,” I relayed with a grimace and wide eyes.

  Molly lost her humor and studied me. “Mm-hmm. And why, Romeo, do you want to help me write notes again?”

  My stomach dropped. I’d never even contemplated that she might not have wanted me interrupting her studies again. Shit! My arms crossed and I grumbled, “You don’t want me here? I’ll go if I’m getting in your way. I don’t want to be where I’m not wanted.”

  Her features softened and she placed her warm h
ands on my rough cheeks, her thumb dusting over my bruised cheek and lip. “Hey, I didn’t say that. I’m just taken aback by the fact that you want to be here with me. It’s… nice to be with you, in any capacity.”

  Relief coursed through my tense muscles and I moved my head to press a kiss to her palm. “I like being around you too, Mol. I feel good when I am. Plus, I owe you for what you did for me yesterday.”

  “You don’t owe me anything,” she whispered shaking her head profusely.

  Feeling completely calm and even happy, I stroked down from her cheek to her shoulder. “I’m staying with you.”

  “What about your classes?”

  Fuck my classes. They had no pull if she wasn’t there. “I’m staying with you. I’m kind of becoming addicted.”

  “Addicted?” she asked dubiously.

  Inching closer, ghosting my hand along her hip, I confided, “That’s right. To you and how you make me feel.”

  “Right, well… err… let’s get you to work, then,” she said, stumbling both in footing and words.

  She was so fucking cute.

  Hours passed and we hadn’t taken a break—I was starving. I stood, glancing down at Molly furiously scribbling away on her notepad, her hair coming loose from her bun, mumbling to herself about Paley and his watch. She wasn’t stopping anytime soon.

  Slipping out of the office, I headed to the student coffee shop, stocking up on cream cheese bagels and cappuccinos. After paying for the snacks, I caught that basketball fucker Michaels glaring at me from his table across the room. He was clearly back together with the chick who banged me behind his back. Classy gal. What a fucking pussy he was for taking her skanky ass back.

  I walked past, trying to ignore him, but he had other plans. “You lost?”

  I stopped and turned to face him. “What?” I asked tiredly.

  “I said are you lost?” he said slowly, like I was dumb, laughing to his girlfriend, who kept her head firmly down. Slapping the table, he bit out, “Shit, no wonder you’re spending time in the library. You’re still trying to figure out the end of the alphabet, aren’t you?”

  Yeah, I fucked his girl. I get it, but I didn’t even know who she was until he started on me after practice two days later. I may not be big on morals, but I wouldn’t have knowingly touched someone else’s girl. Give me some fucking credit. It was a party, I was drunk off my ass, and she’d led me to bed. It’d been that brief, but Michaels still couldn’t let it go.

  People in the cafe stopped their chatting, listening in.

  “Michaels, I’ll warn you once. Shut the fuck up. I’m in no mood for your shit today,” I warned. I just wanted to get back to Molly. Fighting with this asswipe was the last thing on my mind.

  I watched as a slow smile spread across his face. Apparently he wasn’t feeling the same. “You’re right. I’ll let you get back to the retard section on the first floor.”

  If the food in my hands hadn’t been for Molly upstairs, working herself toward the first stages of malnutrition, I’d have thrown the whole lot at his fucking head and kicked out his front teeth. But I simply smiled and retorted, “Will do, Michaels, and I’ll let you get back to your copy of The Kama Sutra.” I crossed the fingers on my right hand and held them up, smiling sarcastically. “Not long now before you can make your girl come without a dildo and she has to stop shopping around campus for substitutes.” With that, I left Michaels raging on his seat and ordering his girl to follow him home, the listening students snickering at our show.

  Five minutes later and back upstairs, I sighed as I saw Molly was still writing furiously and looking beyond exhausted, a huge stack of notes piled up on her right. My entrance finally broke her from her philosophy zone and she looked up at me in shock.

  “We need a break,” I told her sternly.

  “How long have we been in here?” she asked with a yawn, stretching her cramped muscles and rubbing at her eyes under her black frames.

  “About six hours,” I answered in a reprimanding tone as I handed her a bagel.

  “Oh. Crap.”

  “Yep, crap,” I answered with a laugh, her exaggerated accent amusing me to no end. I’d never known a Brit before Molly, and sometimes the things she came out with and the way she pronounced shit was fucking hilarious.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off her as she sat on her seat, and more importantly, I couldn’t take my eyes off Molly’s tongue as it ran along both lips as she stared at her food. I tightened my hand on my coffee death grip, imagining that mouth licking around the tip of my cock. And when she took a sip of her cappuccino, moaning out loud in satisfaction, the bastard lid popped off, the hot liquid scalding on my chest.

  “Shit!” I shouted, launching to my feet, pulling the boiling, wet material off my gray shirt.

  “You okay?” Molly asked, one eyebrow raised.

  “Just… don’t make those kind of noises around me, Mol,” I instructed tightly, moving to adjust my now rock-hard cock in my jeans. Molly’s breathing grew labored at my words and her breasts pushed against her dress. I wanted her so damn much, but she wasn’t like the other girls. She wasn’t just a fuck, didn’t give her pussy to anyone wearing a Tide jersey. And more shockingly, I was quickly realizing that I wanted her for more than just one night.

  Yeah. Imagine that. My feelings for her were spiraling out of control, confusing the absolute crap out of me.

  Taking a seat, we both stared at each other in silence, the tension pulsing once more, until I cracked my knuckles and stretched out my arms, saying, “You must be nearly done now. I’ve never seen anyone work so hard at anything. I have no doubts you’ll make one hell of a professor.”

  Losing the flush to her heated cheeks, she shrugged. “I love studying. It keeps me occupied.”

  “From what?”

  “From thinking about other things.”

  “Like?” The desolation that appeared on her face at that question cut me to the core.

  “Bad things… upsetting things… things from my past.”

  I felt that pain, knew that pain, so I reached out and took her hand that was resting on the table in support, throwing all caution to the wind and confessing, “So studying does for you what you do for me?”

  Her hand shook slightly in mine, and she looked anywhere but at me. I pulled on her hand, jerking her closer. “It’s true. You’re doing something to me, Mol.”

  “I… What? You…?” she mumbled, moodily pulling back her hand when I laughed and then launched a piece of her bagel, I assumed, at my head, but instead it hit my chest. She may be a genius, but she had shit aim.

  My heart nearly exploded with happiness as I shoved it in my mouth and she couldn’t contain her laughter. It seemed we were good at doing that for each other, lightening our moods after getting lost in the memory of our dark times.

  “So how are you feeling today?” she asked, genuine concern in her tone. Someone was genuinely concerned for me. It felt… nice.

  “Better,” I replied, smiling. “This pretty gal helped me get through some personal shit.”

  Her head bowed and she looked up playfully through her long black lashes, pretending to search under the table and around the room. “What gal? What does she look like?”

  Scrunching up my face in mock concentration, I answered, “Brunette, hot accent, fucking sexy as hell librarian-with-glasses thing going on.”

  Molly shook her head in dismissal. “Right. But seriously, are you okay?”

  Time to cut the shit. She deserved to know, and more importantly, I finally wanted to open up to someone, even if it was just a small glimpse at who I was. “Getting there. One day at a time,” I confided quietly.

  Nodding proudly, Molly went back to her notes, understanding I couldn’t be pushed too far. I loved that about her. I couldn’t take my eyes off her as she sipped on her coffee. She was pretty—there was no question about that—but she didn’t try hard to make herself more beautiful, didn’t coat herself in a ton of makeup or tight clo
thing. But sitting before me right now, she looked like a supermodel, the most stunning girl I ever saw. Her easy acceptance of my damn moody ways made her the most beautiful girl in the world to me.

  At that moment, my decision was made. I wanted her, was consumed by need for her, and decided to screw the consequences.

  I was making my move.

  She placed the cup back on the desk; a small drop of foam rested on her lip. Rising from my seat, I stalked around the table, seeing her eyes widen with nerves as I approached. I leaned down, trapping her on the chair, my attention firmly fixed on my target.

  “Romeo, what—” she whispered, but I dived in, flicking out my tongue and licking the foam off her soft lip.

  “You had foam on your lip,” I said as casually as I could manage, pulling back from her.

  “Oh, I—” Raw disappointment shadowed her golden eyes. It was all the convincing I needed. Gripping her cheeks in both of my hands, I moved in, crashing our lips together and grasping her thick hair in my fists, on the verge of losing control as she groaned with pure need against my busy mouth.

  I had to stop before things went too far. As much as I wanted to sink deep into Molly, I wasn’t going to do it in the library for fuck’s sake. I wanted more when it came to her, so I reluctantly pulled back.

  “And then?” she asked breathlessly as she nuzzled against my hand.

  Touching my forehead against hers, I confessed, “Well, then, I just wanted to kiss you.” Her lips twitched and a shy smile lit up her face.

  Spurred on by her affections, I dropped to my knees, running my hands up her bare thighs, and asked, “Come to my game this weekend.”

  “I have to study.”

  My heart plummeted to my stomach. “It’s just for a few hours, Mol.”

  She began playing with her hands and shaking her head. “I know, but I get paid to assist the professor and I pride myself on getting everything done on time. I need my paycheck to survive, Rome. Living in the sorority house is expensive. I’ll be here on Saturday when the game is on.”

  Her dismissive response took me aback, and I panicked that I’d got it all wrong. Why wouldn’t she come to my game? She could study before or after. It suddenly occurred to me that maybe she wasn’t feeling what I was feeling, and that thought just about broke me.