Chapter 5 – Roman
ROMAN
Me: I don’t know what to do about Adam. I’m debating if I should just kill him.
Forest: If you don’t, I will, and I can get away with it, so think critically about that.
Iwould almost laugh or smile at that if I didn’t know Forest was serious.
Me: I haven’t talked to him yet and I don’t know his story or why he did it but I’m not sure it matters.
He cheated on Braelyn. On the flip side, he was Nash’s best friend and has been one of my best friends since Nash’s death.
He’s a good guy. A great guy actually. I don’t see him hurting Brae like this.
Hayes: Can you be Switzerland and stay neutral?
Me: No. I don’t know. I need to talk to him but I’m too fucking angry and full of a lot of things I shouldn’t be too.
Crew: Things like you secretly love Braelyn and are conflicted because you’re happy she’s now single but sad because of how it happened and that she’s hurting? Oh, and the fact that Adam is a close friend of yours, so there’s the betrayal part of that.
Me: Are we on a daytime television show?
Crew: Tell me I’m wrong.
I can’t. That’s the problem, and Crew is right.
I am happy and fucked up because I’m happy and conflicted as fuck because it’s Adam, and going behind my friend’s back with their girl isn’t something I do.
It’s not something I’d ever do. Not that Braelyn is even interested in me for that, and there’s the not-so-small issue of my leaving to live abroad in a couple of months.
But the tickling along my spine is there, and I can’t turn it off.
Hell, she could go back to him tomorrow for all I know. But for now…
Me: In ten weeks I’m moving to Europe for eighteen months.
Crew: What the fuck? Why didn’t you tell us?
Hayes: Are you serious? Where?
Me: First Germany, then Paris and London. I haven’t told anyone yet.
Forest: And this all happens right after the wedding that might not happen anymore.
I sigh.
Me: Yes.
Forest: Interesting.
Me: Not so much because everything is all fucked up now but I signed contracts and I’m needed there for what I have planned.
Crew: But you love her!
Hayes: It’s all over your face, brother. I saw it the other night after the fight. It’s why I brought it up.
I stare down at my phone screen, reading this. And here I thought I was so smart. They all saw it, but Braelyn hasn’t. Or hasn’t wanted to. I drag a hand through my hair.
Me: I can’t change the move. It’s happening.
But I have to try. Don’t I? I can’t move away not having tried.
Crew: But you have this time. You can figure out other things if you have to.
Me: Maybe. I don’t know. I’m helping Brae move out of her apartment today and into mine. How soon is too soon to finally make a move?
The bubbles instantly start dancing on my screen, and I smile to myself. Here it comes.
Hayes: Motherfucking finally!! He admits it.
Me: I also somehow talked her into coming with me to Vegas next week and to Mexico after.
Crew: And you love her, or is this just some fun you’re after? You never answered me.
Me: Do you honestly have to ask that? When I said make a move, I wasn’t talking about sex. If for a second, I thought she’d say yes, I’d fucking propose.
Crew: Just making sure. Why have you never made a move before?
Me: Bad timing, and she wasn’t interested. Before Adam swept in on her, I started to, and she never reciprocated.
Hayes: Probably because she didn’t know or realize what you were doing.
Maybe. It’s possible she didn’t. I don’t know.
I didn’t kiss her, and I didn’t tell her how I felt, but I wasn’t entirely subtle either.
I’d touch her and tease her and fucking flirt.
I don’t flirt. So maybe that was it too.
I’ve never had to fight for a woman. Perhaps I was doing it all wrong.
Perhaps what I thought was flirting fell flat. Who knows.
All I know is she never seemed to want me back, and then she started dating Adam.
The dumbest motherfucker on the planet. How he cheated on her is the mystery of the world.
I hate it for her. I genuinely do. That’s the best friend side of me.
The guy who’s never been able to get over the girl is looking at it like it’s finally my time.
It always circles back to her.
But once again my life is set to diverge from hers, and I can’t help but wonder if that will always be our story. If our timing will never be right.
Me: Whatever, can you help me out here? Uncharted waters and all.
Crew: Don’t push anything. You don’t want to be a rebound. Go slow, be patient, and feel her out (not up) to see what she’s ready for. If you’re serious about her, you have to be willing to put in the work.
Hayes: This *finger pointing up emoji*
Forest: Honestly? I say go for it. You can be patient, and I’m not saying to kiss her and profess your love tonight, but if you wait too long, she’ll either get back together with him or you’ll be gone. I say put it on the line and go for broke. But prove that you’ll be different from Adam.
I think about this. About all of this.
Me: Maybe somewhere in between all of that. Thanks, gentlemen.
Hayes: Don’t thank us yet. But we’re happy for you, man. Truly, we are. You and Braelyn belong together.
Me: We’ll see if she agrees. I already know Adam doesn’t.
With that, I stare at my phone, lean my hip against the island in my kitchen, and take a sip of coffee. I pull up my chat stream with him.
Me: Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you.
He doesn’t reply by text. Instead, my phone rings in my hand.
“Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you,” I repeat as I answer.
He sighs into the phone. “I can’t. I messed up.”
Shit. He sounds completely broken. Fuck. My conscience is eating at me. Hardly a new thing, but I wouldn’t mind a reprieve for once.
“What were you thinking?”
He chuckles mirthlessly. “For the past few months, as the wedding drew closer, I was… panicking a bit. I’ve only been with four girls and Braelyn is one of them.
I wasn’t going to do anything about it. It was just something sticking in my head that I figured I’d get over.
But there’s this woman at work. She’s been after me pretty aggressively since she started here a year ago. ”
“And you don’t think that’s because of your money? Or that she’s seeking to blackmail you?” Adam’s family owns a network in New England with nationwide syndications. Part of this network provides access to Boston Rebels games and other sports teams. They’re big money and Adam is next in line.
“She’s married and made it very clear her husband can never find out.
Maybe she wanted to be my mistress, but I think she was just after sex.
A few weeks ago, she cornered me in the garage at work and sucked me off.
I felt horrible after. Like I threw up and told Brae I had a last-minute work trip because I couldn’t go home and look at her. ”
I rub a hand across my forehead and take a sip of coffee because I don’t know what to do or say. I’m furious with him, and there’s no excuse for what he did.
“Why didn’t you show up here for her? You knew she’d come to me.”
He sighs but doesn’t answer.
“You’re a fucking pussy,” I bite out. “Who were you more afraid of, her or me?”
“I fucked up. I didn’t know what I’d say to her. What can you say to the woman you love after she walks in on you like that?”
“I don’t know. But you still should have tried.”
I blow out a fragmented breath. I’m his friend, and he stuck by my side during the worst time of my life. He did so without judgment or blame, and part of me feels as though I owe it to him to return the favor.
Even to my own detriment.
“But it continued with that woman?” I ask, redirecting us.
“Yeah,” he says slowly. “It continued. A few more times after that, and then yesterday happened.” He makes a noise and then coughs. “I’m going to lose Braelyn.”
My eyes close, and everything inside me seizes up. “I don’t know.”
“She’s moving her stuff out.”
“I know. We’re moving her in here.”
“Where in there?”
“Fuck you, asshole.” I practically slam my coffee mug down on the marble. “You have no right to ask that question. She’s going into the guest room where she always sleeps.”
He blows out a harsh breath. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that. I’m really fucked up with this. I can’t lose her. I don’t know what I’ll do if that happens. I’m already going crazy.”
My elbows plant into the stone, and I press my forehead into one of my hands and stare down at the gray and white.
“I’m so fucking pissed at you, man. You have no idea.”
“I do actually. As pissed as you are at me, I’m a million times angrier with myself. I was selfish. I can get like that sometimes. It’s the billionaire-only-child thing. I was thinking with my dick and not my heart, and now Braelyn is hurting and I might not ever get her back.”
“Yeah. You might not. And you’ll have to live with that.
I gotta go.” Without waiting for him to reply, I hang up.
I grip my phone, wanting to open the balcony door and chuck it into the water.
I held back because she was Nash’s and it felt wrong to try to date my dead brother’s girlfriend or ex-girlfriend or whatever she was after losing him.
Plus, I wasn’t in any state to be what she deserved.
But I waited too long. Played it too cautiously.
This could be my shot but also how the fuck can this be my shot?
I have no answers, and in the absence of answers, I cook. Homemade croissants, maple-glazed ham, eggs, and gruyère. Plus the fruit plate the concierge brought up.
“Do you ever do anything simple?” comes from behind me. I turn to find her in my sweatpants and hoodie again, and fuck, her in my clothes is the best look in the world on her. “That’s an egg and cheese, but it’s not.”
“Is that your way of saying you don’t want me to make you a cappuccino to go with it?”
She squints challengingly. “Is that a threat?”
“Only if you don’t eat my breakfast.”
She rolls her eyes dramatically and crosses the room to climb onto one of the barstools. “Ugh. Fine,” she grouses mockingly. “I’ll eat your fancy, delicious breakfast.”
“Way to sell it there, kid.”
“There is no selling it when it smells this good. How are you still single?” she muses but pops a blueberry in her mouth, not waiting for an answer to her rhetorical question, and I don’t have one I’m ready to give her yet.
We eat breakfast together, both of us quiet and introspective.
“I don’t want to go there today,” she finally says.
“No? Do you want me to do it?”
She shakes her head. “This will sound crazy, and I know it is, but I think I’ll buy some basics and maybe in a day or two I’ll do it.”
“I’ll help you. Whenever you’re ready, if you’re ever ready, I’ll help you.”
“Maybe tomorrow after work?” She scrunches her nose as if she’s not sure. “I think I just want today.”
“I’ll have the concierge get you some things.”
A smile curls her lips. “Fancy.”
“It’s what they’re there for. Give me a list, and we’ll have it in a few hours.”
She starts to tick items off on her fingers. “Lube, butt plug, magic rabbit thing, oh, and condoms, of course.”
I cough and nearly choke on my croissant. “The basics?”
She gives me a sideways look. “Am I forgetting anything?”
“Nipple clamps. Handcuffs or rope. Perhaps a flogger.”
She makes a tsking sound as she sips her cappuccino. “Those don’t sound basic. More like the advanced course. I’m not quite sure I’m there yet.”
Perhaps you just need the right teacher, I think but definitely don’t say. “Just the basics then. Got it.”
“And maybe some clothes and a toothbrush.”
“Obviously,” I tease.
“Obviously,” she parrots, rolling her eyes playfully at me, but she starts to pick apart her sandwich instead of eating it. “Can we watch a movie today? Maybe splash in your cool pool?”
“You got it.”
Relief and gratitude swim in her features. She looks better for it. There’s more color in her face and life in her eyes. “Thank you. I’m going to be a broken record with that, but you really are the best.”
“Eat up, and I’ll get you whatever you need.”
I order up the clothes and things she tells me to, and we spend a quiet day in, watching old movies—her favorites—eating our way through my fridge and pantry, and hanging out in the pool.
I can’t remember the last time I had a day like this.
A day off. A day with no work and just being lazy, with no forced agenda.
Even my emails wait—including Frankfurt housing questions from my assistant.
Today is about Braelyn. I’m her friend. Her confidant. Her safety net. The guy she goes to when she needs a shoulder to cry on. It’s a role I’ve played well. A role I’ve been happy-not-so-happy to have.
She says she’s coming to Vegas with me. Mexico too.
I want that more than I want anything else.
But I already know nothing with her will be easy. It never is for me.