7. Chapter 7
Chapter seven
Lance
After I knock, I stand and wait for a few seconds before the door finally clicks open. I’m honestly kind of shocked that he’s even letting me in after what happened last night. I have no clue what the fuck I was doing. What the fuck I let him do to me.
That was not me.
That’s something I never would’ve done with anyone else while I was in that state, but something about Roman just fucks with my head.
I know that he never would’ve taken advantage of me in a way that I was uncomfortable with.
Which I don’t even want to fathom trying to unpack, because he’s always been such a dick to me. Why would I trust him of all people?
I push the door open warily, full of shame as I try to sneak my way inside the room.
Roman is standing behind his computer chair stretching his arms above his head, his full back on display.
I didn’t get to see anything but his dick last night, so taking in this much bare flesh is kind of startling.
The muscles that ripple and move are decorated with intricate, inked artwork that make me just as speechless as the man himself.
He’s not ripped, and he’s definitely not some body building brute.
I didn’t even feel abs under his shirt last night, but… That. Damn. Back. Whew.
My eyes devour every inch of his body that I can see, and I want to scold myself for it, but I just fucking can’t.
I can’t. I take a few quiet steps closer, itching to trace the patterns that swirl and follow the lines of his body perfectly.
I wonder if anyone else that he’s been with has paid that much attention to how they conform to his body, exaggerating his movements.
I wonder if they took the time to admire them the way I crave to.
I bet he’d let them. I fucking hate that.
How every part of himself he ever shows people is so fucking charming. Except for with me. Never me.
He grabs a shirt from the back of his chair and slips it on before finally turning to face me.
Of course, the motherfucker rolled out of bed looking like he just descended from the heavens.
It doesn’t matter that his eyes are bloodshot and tinged in exhaustion, or that his hair is wildly sticking up in every direction. He’s still perfect.
“Yes?” He asks as he glares back at me. I have no idea how long I’ve been standing here staring at him, but any amount of time is too much when it comes to Roman. He’s a dangerous game that I still don’t know if I’m willing to play. Not that I have a choice anymore. The game has already begun.
I stick out my hand, offering him the boxers that he graciously let me wear home last night. He takes a few steps closer, grabbing them from me and then tossing them onto the couch.
He stares back at me expectantly. “Was that all, or…?”
“Well, I thought that… should we talk about—”
“No,” he says dismissively as he walks past me to the kitchen and flicks on the coffee maker.
He grabs some sugar from the cabinet before walking over to the fridge and pulling out a half gallon of milk.
He’s moving around as if I’m not even here anymore, and it…
it kinda sucks. I’m trying to do the right thing here, and he’s just making me feel like shit about it.
“Alright…” I say as I run my hand through my hair nervously. “Well, thanks for the… uhh…” I stutter as I point to the boxers on his couch.
“Don’t mention it. Like… actually don’t.“ He dumps sugar into his coffee cup without bothering to acknowledge me.
Point made. Loud and clear.
I guess I should’ve known that last night wouldn’t mean anything to him.
Me:
Well… my day sucks. How’s yours been so far?
SeeYouClearly:
The same as always.
Boring.
They really need to work on some form of entertainment around here.
Me:
Well, they did approve this app, so maybe they’ll start adding some other fun stuff.
I vote that we get together and petition for a water park. What do you say?
SeeYouClearly:
You just want to see half naked people, right?
Might as well go all out and ask for a strip club.
Me:
I mean… I’m not opposed to that.
But I prefer a lazy river.
What would you rather have?
SeeYouClearly:
Well, I honestly wouldn’t mind a library.
A sex shop could be fun too, though.
I chuckle as I type out my reply.
Me:
Oooh. Are you a sexual deviant, SeeYouClearly?
SeeYouClearly:
That’s yet to be determined.
Wanna help me figure it out?
Me:
You little flirt!
A guy can’t be giving away his secrets, huh?
So, why a library?
Once I reach the food shop, I stroll over to the counter, pulling out my badge to swipe it when the cashier has my order rung up.
“Two pepperoni pizzas for noon tomorrow, please.” I order as I glance back down at my phone. Once the register dings, I blindly reach out and tap my badge to the little machine before heading back toward the exit.
SeeYouClearly:
The place I used to live, my office was in the library.
I liked it a lot better than this one.
I miss the smell of books.
I can’t help but wonder what kind of office he has now.
If it’s not filled with books, then what is it filled with?
Filing cabinets full of official documents like Ollivanders?
Fancy furniture and pictures of the past like Wilders?
Maybe he’s in the med bay and has an office that constantly has people filtering through it like Cain and Devlin.
Is he on the east end of the prison? The West?
I wonder how close to each other we actually are.
He did say that he liked to go to the coffee shop a lot.
Wouldn’t it be crazy if he was someone that I have interactions with regularly?
As much as I want to know, I also really enjoy the mystery behind it.
Not knowing who I’m talking to has taken all the pressure off of whatever is going on between us, and I like that.
Me:
You like libraries because of the smell of books?
Not, you know, actually reading books?
SeeYouClearly:
I like reading too, but there’s just something really refreshing about the smell.
Do you read?
Me:
If I say yes, are you going to ask me what I read?
Because if so, then the answer is no.
SeeYouClearly:
So… You read smutty romances.
Gotcha.
Me:
And how would you know that?
SeeYouClearly:
Maybe I do, too.
These weird little empty text boxes keep coming up between messages, and it’s really starting to get on my nerves.
There has to be a way for Roman to fix it.
I doubt he’s even been using the app, so he probably has no idea that it’s even happening.
As I’m walking down the hall, the smell of coffee hits me, and I figure that there’s no better peace offering than a fresh coffee and danish, so I stop to grab him both before heading back over to his apartment.
It’s absolutely not because I miss spending time with him, and one hundred percent because I want him to fix the stupid texts boxes.
What am I doing, you ask?
I. Have. No. Fucking. Clue.
Torturing myself, apparently.
Me:
Oh, please.
Don’t even act like wolves aren’t the superior predator.
SeeYouClearly:
Depends on the context.
Against lions?
Definitely not.
Me:
In North America, obviously.
I think even hyenas might give them a run for their money in the savannah.
Did you know that there’s a species of hyena that only eats insects?
SeeYouClearly:
Wait…
* gotta google this *
Me:
I’m serious.
They’re called Aardwolves.
They feed primarily on termites.
SeeYouClearly:
Okay… That’s cool as fuck.
Where did you learn that?
Me:
I read a lot.
But…
That was on a documentary I watched last night.
I reluctantly tuck my phone into my pocket before I knock on the door. This time instead of the door popping open on its own, Roman swings it open, anger swirling in his eyes as he glares back at me.
It’s early as fuck, I’ve already stopped by here once, he most likely has work shit to deal with, among probably another dozen reasons to be upset to see me standing outside his door. I honestly can’t blame him for being irritated that I’m here. Again.
After all, I’m just as mad at myself for wanting him so damn bad that I couldn’t resist coming back.
And I’m even more pissed at myself for wishing that he felt the same way.