Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
DEX
“I’m going on a date,” I tell my brother, who just stares at me, a granola bar hanging out of his mouth.
“What? With who?” he asks, a bit of the food falling onto his shirt.
I stare at it as he sheepishly wipes it away. “Rome.”
The rest of the granola bar gets lodged in Thom’s throat, and he turns red from coughing. I would slap him on the back and help him out a little, but he is one for dramatics at times.
And honestly, I’m so fucking nervous about this that his reaction isn’t helping.
When he finally regains his composure, swiping at his eyes, he asks, “When did this happen?”
“The other day. I insisted on it, and now I’m regretting it.”
“Hold on,” he says, taking a seat near me and taking a swig of his water. “When did you and Rome get to know each other enough to bring dating into the mix?”
I spent three fucking years avoiding that question, but now I have to be honest, so I am. I give a very CliffsNotes version of me and Rome, leaving out the erotic bits since he’s my brother. But I can tell when he starts filling in all the gaps.
His eyes go a bit wide when I’m done. “So…you want to go from hooking up to dating. Rome,” he adds, like I need reminding of who he is.
I bite my lip. “This is a mistake, isn’t it?”
“No,” he says slowly. “Just…you sure this is a good idea? I mean, you don’t want to stick with just the sex?”
It’s a good question, but in spite of the way Rome can be an epic asshole, I can tell he’s more than that. There’s something in him that was hurt and waiting to be soothed. Something in him behind a big wall of defense that’s aching to come out. And I want to be the man to tear down those bricks.
I want to be the man who could love him, because I have been obsessed with him for so fucking long. I need to try.
“Everything with us has been so electric and intense. I want it to slow down. I want to know he wants me for more than just my dick.” Water dribbles from his mouth as he stares at me. “Seriously, bro. Wipe your mouth,” I say as he swallows loudly.
He drags the bottom of his shirt up over his chest and cleans up his face. “I had no idea you felt that way. Does he?”
“I wish I knew. I think so.” I rub at the back of my neck. “He’s hard to read, you know?”
Thom snorts. “Trust me, dude. I know.”
“I just wish I knew how to make it work with us. And I wish I knew how to make the date worth it for me. Like, if there was a way to make him really work for it, that would show me he’s in it for more than just the dick. But I don’t know how.”
Thom taps his lip with his finger, deep in thought. “Well, you could pull a Robbie—”
“Stop right there. I don’t want to know about Robbie if it’s sex related.”
Thom’s ears go pink. “Ha, no. I’m saying he’s a teacher, so be like Robbie. Grade him on his effort. Make him work for that A plus. Reward him when he does a good job, and put him in fucking detention if he fails.”
I stare at him, blinking slowly. “Are you fucking for real? That seems a little mean.” The idea does have merit though, and Rome seems like such a fucking perfectionist, I think he’d probably lose it if he didn’t get an A. But I’m not sure I want to hurt his feelings.
“Is it? I don’t think so, and honestly, the dude kind of has karma coming for him. If he has to work a little harder for your dick, then make him.”
I huff a laugh at that and lean back in my chair, brow furrowed in thought. “I haven’t done the dating thing in so long. What would I even use for the criteria?”
“Dunno. Venue, ambiance. Small talk? Maybe make a list of what you think is a good date and give him points?”
That is actually a brilliant idea. I reach into my desk and pull out a tiny promotional notebook we’d been giving away a few months ago with membership sign-ups. “That could work.”
“God, I can’t believe you and Rome…” He trails off, then laughs. “Actually, never mind. I think I can.”
I don’t bother asking what that means, and when I say nothing else, he slaps his hand on the desk and stands up.
“Well, I have a client in ten. See you later?” I nod, and he pats me on the back as he moves past me, but before he leaves, he adds, “And tell me all about it when you’re done.
I’m a nosy bitch, and so is Robbie. We want all the details. ”
“Fuck you, bro,” I say, and he chuckles as he leaves the office.
It leaves me in silence, pondering, wondering. Can I actually do this?
Would it humiliate him and ruin our chances of being together? Something in my gut says no. Something in my gut says that despite the fact that it feels totally fucking wrong, Rome absolutely needs this.
I can tell Rome’s nervous when he shows up at my place. His fingers twitch nervously as he fiddles with the button on his shirt, and he hasn’t been able to meet my gaze steadily for the past two minutes.
I should be nicer to him. I should discard everything Thom put into my brain, but then I think about how he let me fuck him and how he promised to stay the night before leaving for three years.
Without even the smallest goodbye.
So yeah, I want him to work for it. Hard.
‘You look fine,’ I tell him as he starts to adjust his shirt.
He glowers at me. ‘Fine?’
My lips twitch slightly, letting my gaze rove up and down his body. Taking my time. Savoring it. ‘You look good. Hot.’
He makes a face at me, and I bite back a smile. The truth is, he looks delicious, and I want to bite down on his lip, neck and cock, but I don’t do that. Not yet.
I’m going to make us wait. Gonna make him beg for it.
‘You ready?’ he asks and then adds, ‘Or do you have more criticisms of me?’
I don’t respond, just grab my phone and step up next to him, holding it out in front of us and snap a picture. He’s frowning in it, and I’m grinning widely.
That only seems to annoy him further.
‘Come on. I can’t wait for our date,’ I tell him and then grab his hand and link my fingers with his.
He stares down at them and wets his lips nervously before huffing and leading me to his car. Our hands part as he walks to the driver’s-side door and peers over at me when I just stare at the passenger side.
‘What?’ he asks, and I force my face to stay serious.
‘You didn’t open the door for me.’
His eyebrows scrunch. ‘Serious?’
‘Yes. It’s a date.’
He rolls his eyes and then stalks over to me, wrenching the door open and sweeping his hand out.
I bat my eyelashes at him and slide inside, noting the clean interior. I run my hand along the dashboard and turn to look at him when he slides in behind the wheel, and then I flip on the overhead light so we can see each other.
‘You gonna be this fussy all night?’
I shrug, taking out the small notebook, and click a pen, placing it on the paper. ‘Maybe.’
His jaw clicks. ‘This punishment?’
‘Oh no. Just making notes for your final grade.’ I waggle the notebook so he can really see it.
‘What do you mean grade?’
‘I mean, I’m grading you on this performance, and how well you do determines what you get from me at the end of it.’
His nostrils flare as he starts up the car, and then he flips me off for good measure.
It makes me want to giggle, but I hold it in. Then I scribble a large -1 on the page so he can see it.
‘That is a negative point. You’re not getting anything tonight with that bad attitude.’
He stares at the paper, and his fingers flex on the steering wheel before letting go. ‘Maybe I don’t want anything from you.’
I shift my hips up slightly, pulling my shirt up to expose my abs, and I see the way his gaze flits down to it, the way he lets out a soft moan. ‘I’m really rooting for you. I want you to do well. I want your mouth around my dick again.’
His eyes slam into mine before narrowing. Then he pulls away from the curb and drives us down the road. Reaching up, he angles the rearview mirror to the side so he can see me without turning to face me completely, and our eyes meet in the mirror for a second.
There’s so much said in that one look.
I kind of want to mark him down for not holding my hand on the drive, but I need to adjust my expectations. He needs both of his hands to talk and to drive.
I tap my pen on the paper and give him a pointed look in the mirror.
He sighs heavily. ‘How was your day?’
I bite my lip, and I can see his gaze flicker up to the mirror, then he turns to look at me as I sign, ‘Fine. Long. You?’
He’s gripping the wheel again so tight it creaks. Oh, he’s irritated. That’s the loss of another point. I add it to the notebook, and he grunts loudly.
‘Fine,’ he says, tapping his chest. More silence fills the car. Just as I’m about to give him another demerit, he holds the wheel with his knee and takes a breath, grimacing as he says, ‘It was fine. I’ve been working on new contracts for the company.’
‘Nice. It went well?’
He shrugs, glancing at the road again for a beat. He seems like he’s relaxing a little, which is a step in the right direction. ‘I want to do better than my dad. I want him not to regret bringing me home.’
My heart aches a little for him. I don’t know his parents, but would his dad really regret it if his son didn’t live up to his expectations? ‘Your dad a mean guy?’
He blows out a puff of air through his lips. ‘Not mean. Huge expectations. He loves me, but he has a legacy I need to live up to. It was just me and him growing up, so it was hard on us both. I want him to be proud.’
I tap his arm and gesture forward. ‘Red light.’
He takes the wheel and eases the car to a stop. ‘Thanks.’
I write +1 in the notebook for him opening up to me and show it to him. He’s still in the negatives, but hey. It’s something.
He rolls his eyes as we take off again. Whenever we’re going, it’s not in town. We hit a long stretch of mostly empty road, and it would be impossible to chat if he hadn’t turned the light on.
‘Can we talk about Paris?’
He sags back and runs a hand down his face. ‘Why?’