Chapter 26
The sunlight slanting in through the open curtains woke Ava early the next morning, and the first thing she saw when she opened
her eyes was Roman.
The sight startled her, as she’d grown unaccustomed to having a man in her bed. And the few times she’d slept beside him,
he’d risen before her. It took her a moment to even remember where they were, and why Roman was fully clothed on top of the
covers while she was under a sheet and—she took a peek—naked.
A fluffy white robe was bunched up beneath her. She must have wriggled out of it during the night.
Memories of the previous day came flooding back, along with no small amount of embarrassment. She’d gone for a walk on the beach to work off her mad and process her argument with Roman. Apparently she could add, “New Ava is not afraid to express her feelings” to the list, because she still couldn’t believe she’d said all of that to him. It never would’ve happened if she hadn’t been feeling so shitty. Her cousins and Colleen, her old therapist, would probably commend her on letting him have it, but Ava prided herself on maintaining a placid facade, no matter the circumstances. Even when Hector had come home and told her he was leaving her, she had responded calmly. Somehow Roman had achieved what no one else ever had—he’d made her lose her cool.
Despite the heat and her splitting headache, the beach and the rolling turquoise surf had soothed her, so she’d taken her
time walking back. By the time her anger had faded, she had a full-blown migraine. Dizzy and sweaty, she’d completely overshot
the house and had to double back after realizing she’d passed the turnoff.
But Roman had been there the second she’d reached the door, taking care of her every need before she could voice it, and staying
with her all night to make sure she was okay.
In the early morning quiet, she could admit there was something sexy about his decisive, take-charge nature. She hadn’t liked
him talking over her yesterday, but when she’d needed him, he’d been there.
Hector had always required instructions when she was sick. The last time she’d had the flu, she’d had to tell him where to
find the thermometer—even though it was always in the medicine cabinet—and he’d only gone to the store for Gatorade and broth
after she’d asked him to. It was like living with a child, and she’d often wished he would think of those things on his own
without being told.
While she didn’t want to compare Roman to Hector, it was hard not to sometimes. She’d been with her ex-husband for so long,
and he was her only barometer for romantic relationships.
She wasn’t in a relationship with Roman, though. She didn’t know what they were, but it wasn’t that.
Still, it didn’t hurt anything to admire his profile while he slept. He was stretched out on his back, breathing deeply with his head turned toward her on the pillow. Her gaze traveled over his thick lashes fanning against the tops of his cheeks, the curve of his upper lip, his expressive brows—finally relaxed, as if they were asleep, too.
On the king-size mattress, there was still enough room between them for another person. Tempting as it was to close the distance
and kiss him, it would go against the rules she’d laid out. She needed to remember why she’d implemented them in the first
place.
Their situation was too complicated, too messy. This man wasn’t for her.
Even if she wanted him to be.
So instead of kissing him, she shifted away and tried to get up quietly. The bed creaked and the sheet fell to her waist.
When she glanced over at him, his eyes had opened a crack. They were trained on her breasts, and under his gaze, her nipples
tightened into hard peaks, as if straining toward him.
“Good morning,” she said, her voice husky with sleep and desire. Old Ava whispered that she should cover her nudity, but New
Ava ignored the command. While it might be wrong to tease him this way, she loved the way he looked at her, like she was a
priceless work of art he was privileged to lay eyes on. Her body soaked up his attention like parched earth during a rainstorm.
Roman cleared his throat. His gaze shifted away from her as he eased himself into a sitting position. “How are you feeling?”
“Much better. Thank you.” That wasn’t enough. This man had acted as her bedside nurse all night after she’d bitten his head
off. “Roman, I—”
“Shh.” Before she could continue, he popped a digital thermometer in her mouth. Beyond him, the bedside table was littered with empty water bottles, along with Roman’s tablet, phone, and glasses. While they waited for the temperature reading, he touched the back of his hand to her forehead, his fingertips dragging gently along her hairline and teasing the sensitive baby hairs.
She did feel warm, but now it was because of him and not a lingering fever. She ached for him to trail his hand down the curve
of her neck to her breasts. As she imagined him cupping their soft weight, his lips and tongue lavishing her nipples, her
body tingled.
But when the thermometer beeped, all he did was pluck it from her mouth and squint at the tiny screen before setting it aside.
“No fever.” Before she could open her mouth to respond, he added, “I want to apologize. I was a total ass yesterday.”
Her eyebrows leaped in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to broach the topic so soon. But when had Roman ever beat around
the bush?
“You kind of were,” she agreed, even though Old Ava wanted to brush it aside with a dismissive It’s okay .
Despite her teasing tone, his expression was serious. “I’m used to being in scenarios where the final decision comes down
to me, and other people rely on my ability to decide quickly and confidently. But you were right—you know your cousin better
than I do. I should have asked for your input and listened to what you had to say. I’m deeply sorry, Ava.”
His sincerity made her stomach drop out like she had crested the top of a roller coaster, not because she didn’t believe him,
but because she wasn’t used to such open and honest communication. Had she and Hector ever spoken this clearly to each other?
If they had, would they still be married today?
Ava spoke slowly around her discomfort. “I can appreciate how that approach serves you well in your work. And it’s not that I can’t see the benefit in being decisive. But I operate differently. For one thing, I want to make sure I’m making the right choice. I also need time to process information, and make sure I’ve fully thought about it. That’s what helps me move forward with confidence.”
“I’m starting to see that. From now on, I promise to give you space to process. You don’t have to ask for it.”
“Thank you.” And because it needed to be explicitly stated, she added, “For that, and for last night. Thank you for taking
care of me.”
“Ava.” His brows creased, and his voice was pained. “You don’t have to thank me.”
“I do, though. You thought of everything. You stayed with me all night, even though we’d argued.”
He made a small sound of distress. “I would never hold that against you, or punish you for telling me how you felt.”
“Hector did.” The words squeezed through a sudden tightness in her throat. “If I ever expressed any sort of negative emotion,
he’d get defensive and withdraw. Then, regardless of what started it, I’d end up apologizing for having feelings. So it just
got easier... not to.”
“Not to... have feelings?”
She nodded, and because the look on his face said he wanted to hold her—and because she wanted to let him—she drew her knees,
still covered by the sheet, up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, holding herself. “It wasn’t hard. When I was
a kid, I’d get in trouble anytime I got upset about something. If the message you receive your whole life is ‘be good,’ the
idea of being bad is untenable. So I just hold it all in.”
His chest heaved like he was the one holding back, and his voice came out ragged. “I always want to know how you feel. Even if you’re mad at me. Especially if you’re mad at me. How can I fix it if I don’t know?”
She gave a little shrug and toyed with her necklace, the only thing she was wearing. “Luckily you seem to be the only person
I can’t hold back around.”
“ Good .” His tone was savage, and his fists flexed on his thighs. “Fuck, Ava, I was so scared when I couldn’t find you.”
She saw lingering traces of his fear etched across his handsome face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—”
“Don’t apologize,” he murmured, and one of his hands slid toward her across the bed. “Just let me hold you. Please, for the
love of god, let me hold you.”
She didn’t care what it said about her boundaries, but she couldn’t deny an entreaty like that. She moved to him and he met
her in the center of the bed. Her sheet tangled between them as she melted against his chest. With a soul-weary sigh, he pulled
her into his arms and pressed his face to her hair. Enveloped in his warmth, in his scent, something settled within her, and
she closed her eyes.
His lips touched her temple in a feather-light kiss. “I’m sorry for acting like your ex. That’s the last thing I want.”
“I’m sorry I said that.”
“Don’t be. You were right to call me out.”
“I know. I’m just... not used to it yet.”
“It’ll get easier. You can practice on me all you want.”
Her chest shook with a silent laugh, and because she couldn’t ignore the role her own actions had played, she said, “You were
right too. I missed the tasting because I can’t say no to my stepmother.”
He eased back to look at her face. “I could’ve phrased that better.”
“Maybe, but it’s true. I don’t have good boundaries with my family.”
“Can you explain that a little more for me? You told me about their reaction to your divorce, but I don’t understand why your
family meeting me meant we had to cut things off.”
She sighed and leaned back on the pillows piled against the headboard.
“You have to understand, my ex and I met during our sophomore year in college and he was my first serious boyfriend. Our families
didn’t live that far from each other in the Bronx, and they were really involved in our lives. We’d babysit my little sister
together, I’d go shopping with his mom, he’d help my grandfather fix things around the house, stuff like that.
“When we separated, nobody saw it coming and they didn’t take it well. And since I never brought anyone else home, before
or after, I think they’re under the impression that he’s still the love of my life or something, and that the divorce is just
a speed bump. They mention him all the time, like we split up two weeks ago instead of two years. I can’t get away from him.”
“And you want to.” At her severe look, he held up his hands. “Just making sure.”
“Yes. Desperately. I want to move on but they never let me forget what I did.”
“But what did you do wrong?”
She rolled her eyes. “In my family? Everything.”
“Because you got divorced?”
“Nailed it in one.”
“And now he’s getting remarried.”
She sighed. “You heard about that, huh?”
“Ashton might have mentioned it.”
She swallowed hard. “You want to know the worst part?”
“Tell me.”
“The worst part is that I was completely unprepared for my family’s reaction. I was the perfect one, my grandmother’s favorite.
And suddenly, I wasn’t anymore.”
She told him about the night she’d broken the news to her grandmother, how it had turned into a massive family argument, with
her cousins and aunts trying to run interference while her grandmother, great-aunt, and mother-in-law shouted at her.
The weight of their censure had crushed her. For a perfectionist, a people pleaser, someone who found their value by being
part of the family unit, their reaction had torn her apart inside. At a time when she’d wanted to cry and rage and break down,
she’d had to suck it up and take everything they gave her with a patient smile.
“It was the worst moment of my life,” she said quietly as she finished. “And I had to comfort everyone else.”
When he gave her a little tug, she moved closer, and before she knew it, he was folding her in his arms again. It wasn’t sexual,
it was... comforting. Like the night they’d watched movies in his bed and she’d fallen asleep in one of his T-shirts, with
her head on his chest, listening to the sound of his heart beating.
“You shouldn’t have had to do that,” he said. “It wasn’t fair to you.”
His words and his embrace eased something inside her, but it didn’t matter. “They’re all I have, Roman. I can’t go through
that again.”
His chest rose under her cheek as he took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I understand that my connection to Ashton complicates things. And I’m sorry my hidden agenda caused you stress yesterday, so I’ll spell it out. I want to be with you, Ava. Nothing has changed for me.”
Warmth suffused her limbs, even as she fought against it. She wanted to be with him too, but didn’t have the courage to say
so.
“It’s too messy,” she whispered, although the words lacked conviction.
“Life’s messy,” he said simply. He pulled back to look at her and stroked a thumb over her cheek. She knew he wanted to kiss
her, and she waited for it, but all he said was, “I’ll see you at breakfast.”
Still, when he turned to get off the bed, she noticed the front of his shorts sticking out.
It seemed she wasn’t the only one turned on this morning. Part of her wished he’d just push her onto the bed and ravish her,
which was very unfair of her since she was the one who’d set the boundaries. She should be glad he was adhering to them.
Didn’t stop her from wanting it, though.
Roman grabbed his devices from the bedside table, and because Ava was watching him closely, she caught the adjustment he made
to his crotch. Then he gave her a quick nod and exited the room.
Leaving Ava a jumble of confused hormones.
It was for the best. Her body might miss his hands and mouth, but being with Roman was a bad idea. Ava didn’t need to complicate
things by asking him to stay and fuck her into next Tuesday.
The real question was why she couldn’t control her reaction to this man. Yes, Roman was sexy as hell. But it wasn’t just that. She craved the way she felt when she was with him. And every time they were together, it wasn’t enough. That was why she always resisted the urge to text him again right away, holding out for as long as she could, until something weakened her defenses and she could no longer deny her need for him.
She flopped back onto the pillows and let out a heavy sigh. It wasn’t just the sex, it was the care Roman took with her. The
way he paid attention to her like she was the most important person in the world, which was why his behavior the previous
day had thrown her off. But she’d told him how she felt, and he’d apologized maturely and with sincerity. Was there anything
hotter than that?
He said things hadn’t changed, but she didn’t know how to go back to the easiness they’d had prior to the engagement party.
Before, there wouldn’t have been any reason to hold back from kissing him, or asking him to touch her. She’d at least grown
comfortable enough to ask for those things. But now? It would be a mistake.
Why the hell did he have to be Ashton’s best friend?
Since part of her was still tempted to call him back, she slid from the bed and padded barefoot to her suitcase. Knowing she’d
be spending a lot of time around Roman, she’d packed a little something to help take the edge off. Unzipping a discreet inner
pocket, she grabbed the fully charged air vibe she’d stashed there and brought it into the shower.
She’d just have to take care of this one on her own.