by Carina Adams
“Oh, I am.” I nodded. “Have you seen these legs?” I attempted to lift one onto the table, but gave up when I realized my jeans were too tight and I didn’t want to risk widening any of their rips. “I have the short stubby little legs of a rhino. I’d kill for bird legs.” I grinned at him, desperate to cheer him up. “I have never been accused of being dainty or delicate.”
“Oh, for fucks sake. There wasn’t a single man there tonight complaining.”
Whoa. The agitation I normally felt toward him invaded. “I didn’t say there was.”
“No,” he snarled. “You never miss an opportunity to hurl insults at yourself though, do you? It doesn’t matter how veiled they are, how you try to hide them, they’re still there. Cut the shit.”
“Hold on,” I held up my free hand. “That’s not what I was doing.” I glared at him. “I know exactly what I have and what I don’t. This,” I slid my hand over one breast and then the next, cupping each slightly, “does it for some men. I’ve learned how to work it when I’m on the stage. I’m not the one moping around, refusing to have fun. We’re not talking about me. Stop changing the subject. So, this flamingo of yours,” I started softly, “you guys came to places like this often, right? Danced and laughed your nights away. And now that you’re here, you miss her even more.”
He snorted humorlessly. “Not even in the same ball park.”
I shrugged, too tired, too drunk, and too clueless about football to understand any sports reference. Thankfully he kept talking which kept me from making an idiot out of myself.
“She hates clubs, detests dance music, and thinks beer tastes like horse piss. In fact, she refuses to go anywhere that was too loud to have a conversation. Her idea of a perfect date is an afternoon at the symphony and a quiet night at home.”
I was completely taken aback. “Wow.” That didn’t sound like him at all. I couldn’t imagine him staying in, watching television, or sipping wine.
“Yeah, wow.”
I wracked my brain, trying to remember what else he enjoyed. “So, if she enjoys the symphony, she must love the theater?”
“No. Plays only offer one perspective and that annoys her.”
My mouth dropped open but I forced it closed. “Does she know what you do for work?”
“Knows and despises it.”
That made sense to me. “Okay, I’m not seeing much common ground. Is there anything you both like to do?”
“Golf.” He adjusted in his seat. “Look, you want to help, I get it. This is something you can’t fix.”
I didn’t know what to say. He was miserable, that much was clear. And a total ass to anyone and everyone that could possibly pull him out of his doldrums for a few minutes. He acted like a man who was pining for a long lost…
“You still love her.”
“More than I want to.”
“There’s only one thing to do, then.”
“Yeah? And what’s that?” Apprehension was clear on his face. “Drink?”
I laughed even though I didn’t want to. “No, silly.” I pushed myself to my feet and held out a hand. “Dance it off.”
He started to argue, “Cady, I—,”
“Don’t think,” I interrupted loudly. “She doesn’t like to dance, she won’t come to a place like this, and she won’t go drink for drink with you. She’s not here right now. But you are with a friend who does like all those things. I’m a little drunk. I want to have fun and I want you to come with me.
He searched my face for a moment. I was positive he was going to deny me and disappointment began to worm its way into my gut. Before I could turn away, Rome nodded once and stood. He shrugged out of his jacket and dropped it onto the back of the chair as if it didn’t cost more than I made in a year. Without a word, he grabbed my hand and led me back to the floor, through the masses until we reached our friends.
Reid’s eyes narrowed slightly when he saw us, but Violet shrieked in excitement, as if she hadn’t seen me all night. I let her pull me out into the middle of the floor, but I refused to let go of Roman and forced him to join us. Reid followed.
Song after song we danced. Even though he never got into it like the rest of us, and all he did was rock and pivot, Rome stayed with us. He was so skilled he never looked out of place. At some point, his lips parted in a small smile, and he relaxed enough to enjoy himself.
Out of everything, that was the highlight of my day.
Eighteen
Roman
“Why are we leaving so early?” Cady grumbled as she climbed into the front seat of my truck, her hair in a messy knot on her head, thick sunglasses hiding half her face from both me and the early morning sun.
I handed her the coffee I’d picked up for her. “You need to be back to meet with your study partner, remember?”
She grabbed the cup from me as if she were clinging to a lifeline. “I have to meet her this afternoon. And we haven’t even set a time. So why in the hell are we leaving before seven?”
“Someone’s a little hung-over this morning. What’s wrong—forget your kit?” I couldn’t resist the chance to goad her.
“Someone’s a little bit of a dick,” she shot back. “Too bad there’s no cure for that.”
Her snark should annoy me. As her boss, it was my job to remind her what was acceptable and what wasn’t, to set boundaries. I didn’t tolerate any of my other employees speaking to me the way she did. Yet every time she threw an insult my way, I found myself fighting a smile.
“I thought you said you never wanted to talk about my dick again?”
Her cheeks flamed. She thought she hid her emotions so well, but everything she thought and felt reflected on her features. I was tempted to rip the shades off her so I could see what was going on in that fantastic mind of hers.
She glanced into the backseat as if to double check we really were alone. Then she groaned. “How are you so chipper? And where in the hell are Violet and Reid?”
“They’re coming,” I assured her. “They’re grabbing breakfast first.”
She clutched her stomach as her face turned green. “Ugh. No. God, I hope they don’t bring anything to go. I’m not sure I can handle the smell.”
I’d already taken care of it and forbidden food in the car. After seeing how sick she’d been after the last time, I didn’t want her to feel miserable all the way home. Cady talked a big game and thought she could hold her liqueur, but she was the only one of us with a hangover.
She put her cup into the holder and leaned her head back. “I’m dying.”
“You’re not dying. You may wish you were dead, but there will be no dying on my watch.”
“Your watch? Pretty sure it was on your watch that I got so wankered.”
“Wankered?”
“It’s a posh way to say falling down drunk.”
“No. Pretty sure it means masturbate.”
She pulled the glasses off and gaped at me. I loved to see the spark in her baby blues. “It does not.”
“That pansy ass bartender tell you that?”
She rolled her beautiful eyes before narrowing them, but I wasn’t sure if she was agitated or if it was too bright for her. “Oliver has muscles for days, thank you very much. He’s British, not a pansy. And the correct term is mixologist.”
Reid would lose his shit if he heard her talk about dear ol’ Ollie. I couldn’t wait to tell him. The idea of another man being interested in Cady made my blood boil, but I didn’t want to admit that even to myself, so I’d pass it off as concern for my best friend.
“Right. So, you spent like five minutes with Oliver, the British mixologist, but he taught you British slang?” I didn’t try to hide the scorn in my voice. “How are you not suspicious? The dude just wanted to hear you talk about jerking him off.”
She flinched. “You’re gross. Some men have manners you know.”
“All men have manners they just choose not to use them.” I held my hands up when she scowled. “Hey, you’re lucky I’m
nice to you.”
“If this is you being nice, I’d hate to see you when you’re mean.”
“What can I say? You bring out the worst in me.” I chuckled at the way her nostrils flared. “Reid, on the other hand, has class.”
She nodded in agreement as she slid her glasses back on and pursed her lips. “True. Reid is a sweetheart. You’re like yin and yang. You’re all dark and broody and he’s,” she twirled her fingers in the air, searching for the right words, “light and fluffy.”
“Who’s light and fluffy?” The topic of conversation asked as he got in behind Cady.
“You,” I explained with a serious face.
“Me?” He sounded horrified. He was probably preparing a list of his latest exercise routines.
“No. Well, yes.” She laughed and the sound tugged on some lost part of me. Then she pointed at me. “Roman’s an asshole and I was explaining the differences between the two of you. Mainly, I like you.”
“You didn’t have any complaints last Saturday night,” I pointed out, my voice low enough so only she could hear me.
Her cheeks grew red once again. “I’m taking a nap,” she snapped as she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned her head against the window. She was out in minutes.
A half hour into the trip Violet started complaining about not feeling well and laid her head on Reid’s lap.
“Do you need me to pull over?” I glanced over my shoulder quickly, meeting my best friend’s stare.
“No. She just needs some rest.”
We all did. I was utterly exhausted, my mind sluggish as it begged me to rest. I chugged more of my latte and pushed through.
We hadn’t gotten back to the hotel until around three. I’d woken them up a little after six. We could have feasibly stayed four more hours and still made it back for the afternoon.
Every time I’d closed my eyes I’d seen Cady. Performing at the venue. Dancing at the club. Smiling at me. Laughing.
Giving up on sleep, I’d stepped into a cold shower.
All that had done was wake me up. It didn’t extinguish the fire I had deep in my soul. It sure as shit didn’t stop the way my heart beat rapidly in panic when I thought about her. I’d leaned my forehead against the tiles, let the frigid water wash over me and swirl around the drain, willing it to take all thoughts of her with it.
I wasn’t sure when it had happened, but I liked her. I forgot to be miserable when she was around. She made me laugh and threw me off my game. There were times, like earlier at the club, when I found myself longing to kiss her again.
I was fucked. All my dancers were strictly off limits—friends, nothing more. That was a rule I’d broken once and the fallout still haunted me.
Cady was in a whole separate category—she was Reid’s. I sighed. Being attracted to her was worse than anything.
I was trying to repair my relationship with my oldest friend. I’d screwed up, needed a minute to get my head out of my ass. He was an easy target, someone to blame. We were cruelest to the people who loved us the most because we knew they wouldn’t stop caring, but that didn’t make it right.
None of it was his fault and he knew that. And yet he let me take it out on him anyway. Everything that had happened, from Livie to Brooke, was on me. I needed to take responsibility so we could move on.
He wanted Cady. I wasn’t in his head, so I didn’t know why he felt the way he did or how he saw her. I only knew the effect she had on me, as mysterious and confusing as it was. And that was bad enough.
He’d claimed her. I needed to back the fuck off. No matter how much my body seemed to crave her.
I’d gotten out of the shower, woken everyone up, and gotten us on the road, determined to put some distance between Cady and me.
It hadn’t worked. I could smell her. I felt her next to me, even though we weren’t touching. I knew Reid was in the back, and that should have deterred me, yet the soft way she breathed in slumber was driving me nuts.
I turned on the radio in an attempt to drown out my thoughts. Instead it took me back to the afternoon before. Cady’s routine played through my mind as if I was watching it for the first time.
The moment she’d come out wearing a costume I hadn’t seen my eyes had been glued to her. If someone had told me when I’d met her that she had a killer body hiding under her baggie shirts and jeans, I would have laughed. I couldn’t have imagined her routines would be a thousand times sexier than anything I’d seen. Or that she’d turn me on in a way no one else had.
When she had started to move, a dance that she’d practiced and perfected in secret, I’d been captivated. The awkward and clumsy girl I’d hired was gone, the shy performer who’d been too afraid to go on alone just a week before was nowhere to be seen. She’d transformed into an expert artist who let the music move through her and hypnotized every man in the room, me included.
All I could do was stare. I’d forgotten that I was there to work, that I was in a room full of men leering at her the same way. She’d looked out into the audience, our eyes had met, and in that moment it was just her and me.
The rest of the room faded. As she swung her hips to the beat, I knew she was dancing for me. When she undid the first buckle my breath caught, my heart hammered in my chest, and I’d wanted to snatch her from the stage, haul her out back, and fuck her the way I should have at the Inn.
Unfortunately, Reid had noticed my reaction.
It wasn’t a surprise. He was extremely vigilant where Cady was concerned. I’d spent a fair amount of time trying to prove I wasn’t interested in her, yet despite my best efforts, he’d seen through my lies.
Assumption and confirmation were two very different things. He could make as many accusations as he wanted, but until he had concrete proof, they were worthless. I gawked just enough to make him uncomfortable, but that didn’t prove shit. I wasn’t about to give him anything more.
I glanced over at the woman sleeping next to me, annoyed.
I didn’t want to like her, let alone be attracted to her. She was a giant pain in my ass. The thorn in my side that stuck me every time I moved.
The worst part about all of this was that if I’d met her a year before, we would have been friends. I wouldn’t have understood Reid’s attraction to her, but I wouldn't have objected to her being around. Even Brooke would have liked Cady's quirks.
Fuck. Brooke. The last conversation I’d had with Livie came barreling into my mind.
She’d said that Brooke and Cady were classmates. For all I knew, my ex did like her, despite how odd Cady could be. They might even be friends.
I hated it. The thought of them in the same room left the taste of ash in my mouth and turned my stomach to lead. I didn’t want them to ever meet, let alone go to the same school. I didn’t like the idea of them being friends, of laughing with each other. I certainly didn’t want them to ever talk about me.
Cady gave me shit constantly, but she didn’t hate me. Brooke’s opinion of me was warped, completely distorted by what happened. One bad deed, I thought glumly with a shake of my head… deserves another. The idea hit me out of the blue and my eyes immediately went to the woman snoring lightly next to me.
The things I wanted to do with her—to her—were definitely bad.
When the need to touch her hit me hard, I tightened my hands around the steering wheel. Primal instincts took over and in that moment I would have given anything to tear her clothes from her body and bury myself deep, claim her as my own, finish what we’d started. For a moment I let myself fantasize. I could see her beneath me, feel her nails on my back, hear her scream my name.
“Roman?”
A hand slid onto my forearm and squeezed slightly. I jerked in surprise, barely keeping the truck on the road. The blood that had been scorching through my veins moments before turned to ice.
“Are you okay?”
My heart began to beat faster. My head grew fuzzy, worse than any hangover or high. The wave of longing hit harder than any d
efensive tackle. I couldn’t breathe.
I yanked the car into the exit lane, managing to miss all other cars. I pulled into the first gas station I found, parked in a tow away zone, and shoved open the door. I needed to put space between us and I needed to do it fast.
I scrubbed my face as I strode behind the store. I was in love with Brooke. I was trying to figure out how to get her to forgive me, to come back. I wanted a future with her.
I didn’t have time for anything or anyone else.
“Roman?” Cady called from behind me, her voice filled with worry. “What’s wrong? What can I do to help?”
I shook my head and tried to remove all thoughts of her. It wasn’t possible. The only time I’d stopped thinking about her lately was when I was dancing. The rest of the time she dominated my brain.
“I’m fine,” I snarled. “Go back to the car.”
“You don’t sound fine,” she shot back as she stepped closer, concern clear in her tone.
If she touched me, I was going to lose all control. In slow motion, I watched it play out in my mind; she’d put her hand on my back in an attempt to reassure me, I’d spin, push her up against the building, and capture her lips as my hands roamed over her. It would be so easy to take what I wanted.
I held up a hand. “I just need a minute, okay?”
There must have been an urgency in my voice, a note of panic maybe, because she heard it. Whatever it was, it was enough to make the woman who would argue over the color of the sky give in. “Okay. If you need me, just call.”
I nodded and listened to her footsteps retreat.
I wasn’t attracted to her. Not really. I was projecting my thoughts and feelings for Brooke onto Cady. I missed my girlfriend and Cady was just a stand-in.
That’s what was going on. Nothing more. With some distance between us, I’d start to remember.
I had to get my head on straight. Time and space were what I needed. Working with her afforded me neither.
A light bulb flashed and an idea formed. She wasn’t booked for the following weekend. I’d planned to try to get her into another party, but I hadn’t told her yet. I’d give her the week off—us the week apart. She’d said she was struggling to keep up with her classes, so she could focus on her studies and I’d have a chance to remember my attraction to Cady was fleeting at best.