Chapter 13 #2
He lifted the cover, stole a look at his naked body aside from his briefs, then shook his head.
“He already knows.”
He tensed at Harper’s confession. He knew exactly what she was talking about, and they’d need to talk about that later.
“Come in,” he told Finn, his voice distant and nearly hollow as he tried to wrap his head around the fact Finn knew about his secret relationship with Harper.
He kept the covers over his lower half. Finn didn’t need to see the fact he still couldn’t shake his hard-on.
He hadn’t jerked off since Valentine’s Day—over a week ago.
He’d had to prepare himself for their movie night, attempt number—he’d lost count—at being friends without making out.
So, he’d taken a shower to stroke his cock while thinking about Harper, of course, and then right before he was about to leave his place, he went back into his bedroom to jerk off once more.
One week was too long for him to go without releasing tension, though, and when he was around Harper all of the time, there was a hell of a lot of tension to deal with.
When Finn entered the room, he slapped a hand over his eyes, a playful smile on his mouth.
“Funny. We were sleeping. You can drop your hand,” Harper told him. “You should have woken us sooner.”
A lot sooner. He needed to talk to his uncle ASAP.
“We were working some leads. Hoping to come up with something while you two rested.” Finn leaned into the interior of the doorframe.
“And?” Roman sat taller.
Finn frowned. “Came up dry.”
“I’ll wash up and go talk to Carmen. Get us a contact with the local PD.” And hopefully some answers, too.
“Not sure I like you going out alone.” Finn reached for the doorknob as if preparing to give them privacy.
“If you’re really worried, I’ll have one of my uncle’s security guards stationed in the hotel drive me,” Roman suggested.
“Yeah, okay.” Finn glanced at Harper for a fleeting second before closing the door.
Roman did his best to stand without grimacing from the pain in his back, which was much worse than he realized once on his feet.
A hell of a lot worse than yesterday, too.
The remnants of hospital-grade narcotics were officially out of his system, likely another reason the memories were, for the most part, back.
“Showering before you see Carmen, huh?” Was that jealousy in Harper’s voice?
He braced a hand to his lower back, unable to stop himself, and when he turned to face her, she was circling the bed. And her eyes weren’t focused on his face. Damn his erection that was growing again under Harper’s heated stare.
“She’ll know something is up if I show up with wild hair looking like I fell off the back of a pickup truck after one too many beers.” Did A.J. just hijack my voice?
“She knows you were hit by a car,” Harper reminded him.
“You don’t know Carmen.” And I don’t want you to. He started for the bathroom.
“But you dated her. I remember now. She said you were her first love.” Her soft, soulful voice followed him into the bathroom even though she hadn’t moved.
He leaned into the shower and turned on the water before peering back at her remaining a safe distance away.
“I stayed in Barcelona for a few months when I was eighteen.” Three more months until I am thirty-nine. Three more fucking months until I’m the same age Thiago was when he died.
He couldn’t remember if he’d told her about his time in Spain before now. Or maybe Carmen said something the other night? So much for thinking his memories were as solid as his cock right now.
And now he was thinking about the last shower they shared, Harper naked and wet and perfect. How could he not, given the steam billowing from the running water and her so close to him?
That first week in September had been their last time together. The dangers of their relationship had hit too close to home and he’d had no choice but to stop seeing her as more than a friend. And somehow, he’d convinced her that it was a mutual decision.
“Did you love her?”
“No.” That was an easy answer. No hesitation required. Why couldn’t all of her questions be like that?
“She wants you back. She said as much.” Harper took three dangerous steps closer.
She was now within his reach. He could pull her to him, hoist her up and into his arms. Wrap her long legs around his hips—screw the pain—and plunge deep inside her.
He’d even do it without a condom for the first time.
No, you idiot. You can’t accidentally make her a single mom.
Her child deserves a father who’ll be around.
For a hot second, back in Monaco in January, he’d thought she might be pregnant, but it was most likely the dress that had her boobs bulging.
Both of his sisters had children, and much to his discomfort, they used to complain about how their breasts grew leaps and bounds when they were pregnant.
But, it’d been months since he and Harper had slept together, so he’d almost put his fist through the wall with worry she’d been with another man.
The idea was outrageous because he knew Harper was nowhere near ready to jump into bed with someone else, but his jealousy was irrational and often superseded logic.
He curled his hands at his sides to keep himself from doing something foolish.
“Carmen and I were together almost twenty-one years ago for all of two months.”
“You’re unforgettable,” Harper volleyed back within a second as her eyes fixed on his clenched fists. “I know you’d never be with her again since she’s your cousin’s widow, but is it okay if I still hate her for wanting you?”
God, did he want to smile at her adorable confession, pull her into his arms and kiss the hell out of her.
And if their reason for being in Barcelona wasn’t so dire, he would have.
He’d ignore all of the reasons for them not to be together and show her there was only one woman he’d ever want for the rest of his life.
“Ah, so you do remember how to smile.”
I’m smiling? He reached for his mouth to feel the slight curl of his lips. “Only for you.”
A soft blush gathered on her cheeks. “I should let you get naked. I mean shower. Well, you have to get naked to shower, I suppose.”
She slapped a palm to her forehead, and it was his smile instead of his dick growing this time. Somehow, that felt even better.
“I’ll just, um, be waiting out here. I can grab you.
” She paused mid-thought, and he couldn’t help but give her a questioning smirk.
“Clothes!” she sputtered out a few seconds later.
“I can grab you clean clothes while you’re in the shower, too.
Sorry, I guess I finished that sentence in my head.
Should probably read the owner’s manual for this thing,” she said, bringing a hand up to tap her temple, the soft blush now flaming her entire face.
Harper hadn’t tripped over her words like this since before they’d first slept together in April. And it was kind of adorable.
But . . . “You’re staying in the room?”
“The doctor said neither of us should shower alone.”
I can rectify that. “I don’t need you out here while I’m taking a sixty-second shower.” Or be here while I jerk off. He was wound so tight he might punch one of Carmen’s guards just to unleash some of his tension, and it didn’t even have to be the guy who’d possibly taken out the team’s best lead.
He wasn’t sure how his back would feel with his hand wrapped around his cock, but he doubted he had a choice. Harper’s perky nipples in her too-thin of a lace bra beneath her tee coupled with the memory of feeling her ass in his palm not too long ago meant he had to yank one out.
“You could fall, and I don’t want you hitting your head again.”
At that reminder, Roman pinned her with a stern look. “No showering while I’m gone,” he demanded curtly as the blood rushed furiously to the head of his cock. “You don’t need to torment the only single guy on the team by having him stand on the other side of the door while you’re naked.”
She laughed and looked at him like he was nuts. “Torment Finn, huh? He looks at me like a sister, and that man would never think about me, let alone make a move knowing you . . .” She swallowed. “And since when is he the only single guy?”
Roman considered himself a taken man, so yeah, he didn’t want his buddy within fifty feet of a naked Harper. Screw that.
“I don’t want him in the room.”
“Then I’ll shower alone.” She arched a challenging brow.
“You better shower alone,” he bit out, and she rolled her eyes.
“You know what I meant,” she retorted, and damn if he felt one of their small fights coming on, the kind he’d swear they’d only had to follow it up with make-up sex last year.
“Wait until I’m back. You’re not dirty anyway.” Just the things I want to do to you are. “And it’s after nine,” he said at the memory, needing to hurry his ass up.
“Don’t lock the door.”
He growled something incoherent under his breath, then shut the door, unable to tolerate being nearly naked around her any longer and not grabbing hold of her.
Once in the shower, he let the hot water hit his back for a few seconds, wishing he had a few minutes to work some of the knots loose.
A vision of Harper climbing back into his bed came to mind, and he found himself holding his shaft. Maybe she’d get under the covers and touch herself, picturing him doing the same?
Run her fingers over her wet pussy and . . .
This is insane. But that didn’t stop him. He grunted beneath the cascading water while he came not even thirty seconds later.
His shoulders fell from the relief, but it was quickly overshadowed by the pain in his body and the time crunch they were under, so he hurried up.
When he came into the bedroom wearing a towel around his waist, Harper was sitting on the bed and not touching herself like he’d partly hoped. She had his jeans and a plain button-down black shirt with his navy briefs laid out for him. She’d chosen his underwear, huh?
“You going to help me put them on as well?”
“Do you need me to?” She was totally calling his bluff, and did she know she was licking her lips as if he were her favorite meal?
He spun a finger, ordering her to look the other way. His quick efforts to release his tension in the shower would’ve been for nothing if she watched him when he lowered the towel.
She set a palm over her eyes instead, and he knew the woman well enough to know she’d peek.
God, this woman. Getting into his jeans with a bad hip and back had required him to sit on the bed next to her to do it. He was too much of a man to ask her for help, so he swallowed the moan of pain while dressing himself.
“Decent?” She split her two fingers apart to check.
“And if I wasn’t?”
She lowered her hand when she saw he was on his feet and working at the buttons of his shirt. “Let me help.” Without waiting for permission, she stood and pushed his hands away from his chest.
“How does Finn know?”
Her fingers stilled for a brief moment. “It just slipped out while we were in Monaco.”
“January?” Why hadn’t Finn said anything?
She nodded but kept her eyes on the buttons as if they weren’t trying to stop a terrorist attack, and instead, she was helping him get ready for some normal 9-to-5 desk job. “I’m sorry.”
“Hey, we don’t have all day, lovebirds,” A.J. hollered while rapping at the door.
“A.J. know, too?” Roman asked in a low voice, jerking a thumb toward the door.
“No, but Rory does.” She winced in apology. “For some reason, whenever I’m near your friend Emilia, shit just slips from my mouth.”
“Coming, one second,” Roman called out to A.J. and then . . . “After our song played at Emilia’s house last October, Rory followed you.” The truth hit him hard. “That’s when you told Rory about us?”
“I, um.”
Their song kept following them. Taunting them.
Why in the hell had A.J. selected Kane Brown while driving, too?
If God was trying to give Roman a sign, could he give him better directions on how to get to where he needed to go? Because he sure as hell felt lost.