Chapter 12 Rome
ROME
Pressure is a privilege.
—Killian’s Text to Rome
“You wifed that bitch up fast.”
In the time it takes me to grab Mick by the throat and pin him to the wall, I’m pretty sure the new guy just shit himself. “You want to try saying that again, you dumb fuck?”
“Sorry, Titan,” he gasps, clawing at the hand wrapped around his throat. “It was a joke.”
“Am. I. Laughing?”
“Put the kid down, Rome.” Hudson sounds bored as he walks by us on his way out of Crucible. Most of the team has already left for the day, but I figured I’d stick around. After all, tonight was Dillan’s hot yoga class, and I might as well drive my girlfriend home.
What I hadn’t planned on was how many of the guys would already know about my new relationship status or that more than one of them would be stupid enough to point out the perfection that is Dillan Ryan’s ass.
Thank fuck most of them are scared of me.
“You heard him,” Mick wheezes. “Put the kid down.”
I smile ear to fucking ear, like the goddamn Joker from Batman. “Disrespect her again, and I’ll crush your windpipe. You got me?”
Mick’s eyes bulge, and a light laugh behind me soothes some of the rough edges winding themselves around me.
“He can’t talk, psycho.” Dillan rests a hand on my arm. “Put him down.”
Today’s sports bra is pink with white trim and matching bootie shorts. She looks like a dessert at my mom’s bakery. Bite-sized and ready to pop in my damn mouth. Even better, I know she’d be delicious if I let myself go there, but I won’t. Even this fucked up arrangement doesn’t change that.
And it’s absolutely fucked.
I drop the young shit to the floor and pull my hoodie over my head, then slide it over Dillan. She pokes her arms through with a huff and tugs it down. The white sweatshirt falls mid-thigh, covering her tits and ass and maybe giving me a small sliver of sanity back.
“What the hell, Rome?” She yanks her ponytail out of the hood and glares at me, her hands firmly planted on her hips. But she leaves the damn hoodie on, so I’ll take that as a win.
Eyes all over the gym are on us, and I step closer to her, tucking her into my side. “You looked cold, principessa.”
“Princi-whatta?” Mick asks, confused, and I almost laugh at the annoyance that flares in Dillan’s eyes.
“You might want to walk away while Rome’s feeling generous, Mick,” she challenges, a slight purr in her voice, playing her part to perfection. “He gets jealous easily.”
Truer fucking words . . . They shouldn’t be. Not over her. But damn, they are.
I fucking hated hearing the guys talking about her tonight.
Yes, she’s fucking hot. But no one in here should be looking.
They’re all lucky I let them walk away with their eyes still in their heads.
Dillan makes a shooing motion with her hands that pulls a hoarse laugh from my chest, and I wait for Mick to walk away before gripping Dillan’s hip. “You know Mick?”
“Yes.” She steps back, but my hand is like titanium on her body. “He graduated with Asher. He’s harmless. What did he say that pissed you off so much?”
I watch, waiting for him to disappear into the locker room, buying myself a minute to settle. Not liking the possessiveness I already feel around this woman. That I’ve always felt. “Nothing important.” I drop my hand. “How was your class?”
“Fine. You didn’t need to wait for me. I usually catch a ride with one of the girls.” Dillan’s skin is hot and flushed and so damn tempting. But temptation is a state of mind, and I’m stronger than that.
Mind over matter is one of the first things you learn as a fighter.
I control my mind. I control my body.
I control the outcome.
It doesn’t matter if my mind never stopped wanting her or that I’ve slept in bed with this woman for nearly a week.
An entire week of her insisting on the pillows between us.
One week of her almost always crossing the ridiculous barrier at some point in the night because she’s freezing cold and craving warmth.
Conveniently enough, she rolls away every morning and acts like she has no idea she was clinging to me like a fucking koala bear who’s too stubborn to admit the house is better when it’s warm, all because she wants me sleeping in pajama bottoms and a shirt.
“Yeah well, we’re going to the same place. Figured it was only fair I waited.”
“Such a romantic,” she says saccharinely sweet, sarcasm rich in her voice. “Let me grab my stuff from the locker room and I’ll be ready to go.”
The sweatshirt covers her ass as she walks away, which might save one or two of the guys’ lives in here. But instead of settling me, my fucking chest roars, seeing her in my clothes.
I don’t look away.
I can’t.
Not even if you offered me a million dollars to try.
At least not until I feel caught in someone else’s trail of impending destruction.
The click-clack of heels against the gym floor is the first giveaway.
The way my balls shrivel up inside my body is the second.
“Liv.” I turn around and stare at my cousin before she even announces herself.
“Rome.” She looks around like she’s expecting to see someone else. “Is my brother here?”
“Nah. Killian left a few hours ago. Everything okay?” I ask.
Her nose scrunches up, and her face pinches in disgust. “My God, you smell awful.”
I wrap a sweaty arm around her just to piss her off, half tempted to rub my armpit on her face. “You’re in a gym, Livvy. You were practically born in this building. How are you not used to this smell?”
“My brother and sister may have embraced gym life, but I didn’t.” She shoves me away. Well, she tries to but only manages to look annoyed when I don’t move. “How are things?”
“Things? What things?”
“Domestic things,” she says carefully. “The family phone tree was activated last week right after we talked. Everyone was buzzing with the news. I’m assuming that’s a good thing.
” She pulls her phone from her oversized black-and-white purse and reads something, then rolls her eyes.
“Why can’t any of you keep your shit in your pants? ”
“Any of us who?” I ask, having no fucking clue what she’s talking about, but I sure as shit don’t want to be lumped into it. “My shit is in my pants.”
“It doesn’t matter. Listen, I’m putting a meeting on the calendar for the end of the week.
I think we’re going to have a new energy drink contract to go over.
Keep your fucking head down until then, unless you’re being photographed with your girlfriend.
I give you permission to do that. I actually encourage you to do that.
Let’s get some good press banked in case we need to counteract bad press. ”
Dillan picks just then to come out of the locker room, and her forehead scrunches when she sees who I’m with.
Fuck me.
Liv’s eyes, however, light up when she sees my girlfriend. The one still wearing my Crucible hoodie. “Dillan. Just the person I wanted to see.”
“Hey, Liv. How are you?” I’ve got to give her credit. Dillan walks right up into my side, fitting herself against me, like it’s as natural as the way my siblings cling to their spouses. She knows how to play the game, even if she doesn’t want to be a pawn in it.
Livvy watches happily as I wrap an arm around my girlfriend. “As good as I can be, considering I work with idiot athletes.” She sighs and grabs something from her purse as she glances my way. “Present company excluded, obviously.”
“Obviously.” I nod my head.
She hands a shiny black envelope tied with a silver ribbon over to Dillan. Fuck me. “I expect you both to attend.”
Dillan looks at the envelope like it might bite her. “What’s this?”
I don’t need Liv to answer this one.
I recognize it as soon as she holds it between us.
“An invitation to the Black & White Ball.” I crack my neck, knowing my time has come.
You don’t grow up a part of the Kingston family, even if your last name is Beneventi, without knowing the rules.
Dad’s family may err on the less social, less legal side of things.
But Mom’s might as well be Philadelphia royalty.
They own two professional sports teams and run a multi-billion-dollar empire.
And every single one of us knows what comes with that price.
We’re all expected to jump in and support it when we’re asked.
The Black & White Ball is one of the many ways my family supports their charitable foundation. And we were just summoned.
Fucking. Fantastic.
“It’s the perfect opportunity for the two of you to come out in society.” Livvy smiles triumphantly, like she just single-handedly cured cancer instead of telling me we’re going to a dog and pony show—where I’m the dog and Dillan is the pony—in the most dramatic way imaginable.
“Come out?” Dillan asks. “I don’t think we were ever in.”
“No one knew you were dating for months. That’s about as in as it gets in this town. I’m impressed. If I’d have wanted Rome to keep a low profile, he’d never have managed to do that good of a job.”
Something sparks in Dillan’s eyes, and she hands me the envelope and smiles a perfectly fake smile. “Well he did a pretty good job of it, considering no one, not even my parents or his, knew we were seeing each other.”
Nodding, Liv purses her lips. “True. But the time for low-key and quiet is over. If you both want to keep Rome’s career on track and the focus on his upcoming fight instead of any kind of potential scandal, I need the attention on your new relationship.
Be wholesome. Be real. Be seen. Please. Make my job easier for a change and go out to a dinner or two.
Be photographed on the white carpet at the ball.
Be the doting girlfriend while he trains and fights.
Have his back this time. I’m sure at some point, you’ll want him to have yours. ”
The way Liv looks at me, I get the impression she’s not completely sold on our relationship. Dillan must see it too. She leans her head against my chest, and I drop a kiss on the top of her head, not caring that her hair is damp from sweating it out for an hour during hot yoga.
“Yes. That.” Livvy points between us. “That’s exactly what I want to see. It shouldn’t be hard. Just give the world you.”
Before I can argue, she’s looking at her phone again.
“Shit. I’ve got to go.” She leans in and kisses my cheek.
“Love you. Be smart. Be safe. And for fuck’s sake, Rome, just this once, be seen.
Please.” Before I have time to process her words, she looks at Dillan. “It was good to see you again, Dillan.”
“You too,” Dillan offers, but Liv has already turned away as she heads out of Crucible.
“You ready to go home?” I ask, ready to get the hell out of here.
“Yes, please.”
Dillan
Dillan
Are either of you going to the Black & White Ball?
Lilah
Nope. Thankfully, pregnancy is an acceptable excuse to miss it this year.
Lexie
I think we’re going. Why? Are you going?
Dillan
Pretty sure we weren’t given a choice.
Okay. I never thought there’d be any kind of we regarding Rome and me. Fake or not, it’s still weird as hell.
Dillan
What am I supposed to wear?
Lilah
It’s a ball, Dillan.
Dillan
Like gown and tux ball?
Lexie
Yup.
Lilah
Ohh. Can I please help you pick out your dress? I already know what I want to put you in.
Dillan
I’m not a Barbie, Lilah.
Lexie
Barbie never had your ass, D.
Dillan
I hate you guys.
Lilah
You love us. Meet us tomorrow to look at dresses?
Dillan
I can’t. The shop is open tomorrow.
Lexie
The shop is two stores down from a couture dress shop your cousin owns. I’m pretty sure she’ll squeeze you in on your break.
Lilah
And wear a thong. I don’t want to see lines when you try on dresses.
Dillan
Seriously?
Lilah
I’m thinking you’re not even going to be able to wear a thong under the dress I want to put you in.
Lexie
Oh, this is going to be fun.
Dillan
For you maybe.