14. Chapter 14
Chapter fourteen
Lance
“Roman…” I pant through labored breaths as I slump over in exhaustion. “Stop. Jesus. Please? With a cherry on top?”
“That’s not what you were saying a minute ago.” He taunts playfully.
“If I would’ve known that there was going to be cardio aside from humping involved then I would’ve kept my damn mouth shut.” I mutter to myself.
When I got to Roman’s apartment this morning, he had completely rearranged all the furniture.
I made one tiny remark about how far away from each other we were when he was sitting at his desk, and he flipped the whole fucking room around.
Instead of his desk and monitors being on the left side of the room, they’re on the right.
The couch and television are now in the middle of the living room, where most normal people would’ve had them to begin with.
I didn’t really understand why he bothered moving his desk until I plopped my ass down into my normal seat on the sofa.
Roman slid into his desk chair and barely even had to extend his arm to run his fingers through my hair.
Yep.
He moved all those fucking monitors just so that we could reach one another when he’s working.
It’s the sweetest fucking thing that anyone has ever done for me and I’ve had to chant ‘I asked him to treat me this way. It’s not real.
’ to myself for the last six hours straight.
It’s getting harder and harder for me to remember as the weeks pass by.
I glance up at him and his lips tilt into a mischievous smirk before he bolts to the other side of the coffee table.
I let out a yelp as I take off around the couch, trying to keep it as a barrier between us.
He shimmies back and forth, trying to get the jump on me, but I’m just as quick on my feet.
“I’m going to catch you,” he swears.
I don’t have much wind left in me while he appears to not even have an elevated heart rate, so I have no doubts about that.
The question is… what comes after he catches me?
To be completely honest, I don’t think there’s a bad answer to that question, and if I keep this up, I won’t have the energy to do anything other than take a nap.
So, when he hops over the coffee table and climbs across the couch, I take off toward his bedroom.
I curse as I slam into his door, having to waste too many precious seconds to get it open.
I barely manage to toss myself onto his bed before he’s lunging on top of me, straddling my hips.
“Oh, you’ve fucked up now.”
I take my time perusing his body before locking eyes with him. His silly smile, his playful demeanor, his relaxed posture… it’s all a perfect mixture of sincere happiness. The rigid man from before doesn’t even seem to exist anymore; He’s a thing of the past. A past I never want to go back to.
Roman is glaring down at me expectantly, waiting on a smartass retort to spew from my mouth, but I honestly don’t even know how I could form something witty enough to say when he’s looking at me with so much adoration.
“Then why does this feel so much like winning?“ I ask as I lightly run my hands up his thighs.
One of his genuine smiles, the ones that used to be rare, peeks out as he leans down to rub his face against mine like a cat.
His lips are so fucking close to mine, and I want so badly for him to just try.
If he would just try to kiss me, or even hint that he wanted to, I would let him.
When he’s this close to me, I feel the tension between us about to snap, like he’s going to give in, but he never does.
I lean into his touch as his hands trail underneath my cropped hoodie, making good use of its lack of fabric.
Roman seemed to love the hoodie that my brother made for me, so I had Ollivander order me a dozen more.
He’s devoured me in every single one I’ve put on so far.
Needless to say, I have high expectations for tonight.
His movements pause with his lips hovering over my ear. “Because I wasn’t exacting my revenge yet.” He replies in some goofy impression voice. That alone probably could’ve had me laughing, but when he starts tickling me, that’s the real catalyst.
“No! Stop!” I demand as I flail around underneath him. “Roman! Fuck! I swear to God!”
I’m bucking my hips, miserably failing at forcing my way out from underneath him.
There’s a flurry of arms and legs going every which way, laughter, curses, and empty promises to kick his ass as soon as I’m free.
It’s literal torture. We should contact the special forces and have them integrate tickling into the repertoire.
I’m certain they’d be much more successful at extracting information from hostages if they did.
When Roman finally relents and gives me a second to catch my breath, I glare at him with the grumpiest expression I can form through my happiness, but I’m not fooling anyone.
I still feel like I won.
I’m on my back staring up into the abyss.
The moon and stars have risen in the sky, casting a glow on the world around us.
Every tiny movement that Blaine or I make sends a ripple of water cascading around our legs.
Our backs are probably covered in damp sand as we lay at the edge of the lake where Gatlin and I normally come to camp.
Blaine just turned sixteen, and this is the first place he wanted to drive to on his own.
He snuck into my room hours ago, convincing me to climb out of my bedroom window with him.
Now that his mother has drawn a line in the sand, the cover of darkness is the only time we’re able to hangout anymore.
We don’t have to talk about how shitty it is.
It’s the elephant in the room; a heaviness that’s with us every time we’re together.
It’s a burden we’ve both been forced to carry, even when we shouldn’t have to.
Blaine leans up on his elbows before reaching over and taking my hand in his. It’s not meant to be anything more than a reassuring touch, but just having another boy touch me sends a flood of butterflies to my stomach. I crave genuine affection, the warmth of another person, desperately.
“Are you planning to leave when you turn eighteen?” He asks before laying back down. Instead of releasing my hand, he slides his fingers between mine and squeezes our hands together even tighter.
I swallow the lump in my throat as I shake my head. “I can’t leave Gatlin.”
“They’re going to make your life hell,” he whispers. “You know she will.”
“I know,” I reply softly. “But I don’t have a choice.”
“You know that I would take care of him. Right? I wouldn’t let them hurt him.”
I chuckle, but it’s not because what he’s said is funny.
It’s mostly because I can predict exactly how terribly that would go.
I have no doubt that Blaine would stand in front of Gatlin if it came down to it, but I’m not sure how beneficial it would end up being.
Since Gatlin hit a growth spurt over the summer, he’s quite a bit taller than Blaine now.
The image that comes to mind is of Blaine as a chihuahua snarling and barking in front Gatlin’s tall and lanky form in the middle of the hallway with everyone looking down on him mockingly.
I’m not saying that I don’t believe him, or that I don’t trust his word, because I do.
I just don’t know how effective his protection would actually be.
At least he has as little bulk to help him.
A miniature rottweiler. That’s what he resembles, even though he’s more like a golden retriever on the inside.
“I know, but I can’t take that chance. I would never forgive myself if something happened. If I’m here, then there’s two of us, you know?”
The grip of his hand tightens on mine as he nods in agreement. “I understand. I just… I don’t like it.”
“Me either,” I admit as I lean up on my elbows.
I hear a faint noise in the distance, but my eyes focus on the surface of the water as I get lost in thought.
My ears zone in on the echo of the crickets and frogs surrounding us, a beautiful symphony of nature.
The dim light from the stars look like fireflies flickering in the distance as the ripples of the water alternate between hiding and exposing their reflections.
An ominous breeze forces its way through the valley, rustling all the trees around us.
A shiver runs down my spine, forcing me to pull my knees out of the cool water.
It doesn’t seem to help lessen the chill though.
In fact, the wind only seems to exacerbate it.
Within the blink of an eye, the air around us shifts.
A tender moment shared in the darkness of our lives suddenly turns heavy.
A volatile energy swirls around us, and just as I’m about to glance over my shoulder in paranoia, Blaine rolls over to look behind us.
He immediately rears back in shock, pulling our hands taut.
“Mom!”
I don’t even have time to react. I don’t have time to pull my hand away from Blaine or to defend myself.
It’s too late. She was too quiet. Her hand is in my hair, dragging me back from the lake.
Blaine is still gripping me tightly as he tries to argue with her, but my other hand goes to grasp hers as she pulls me across the sand and stones.
My brain can’t focus on anything else that’s happening or what they’re even arguing about, because all I can focus on in the pain radiating in my scalp.
Tears spring to my eyes, blurring my vision, but I try to focus on the surface of the lake as she keeps dragging me along.
Eventually, Blaine doesn’t have a choice but to let go of my hand, which allows me to hold on to her wrist with both hands.
That alleviates some of the pain, just enough to let my brain process what’s happening and let me succumb to the idea of whatever else she’s planning to do.
I can’t fight it, so it wouldn’t matter either way.