Chapter 20 Rome #2
“I’m protecting my peace. There’s a big difference.” Her eyes narrow on me. “At least I was until you walked into my store and shattered it. I knew this was a bad idea. This is why I stopped working for Lilah.” She tries to brush by me, but I block her escape, and those pissed-off eyes go glacial.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
Fuck. Probably should have said that a little nicer.
“Dillan,” my voice softens. “How can I help you if you don’t tell me?”
“You’re not helping me, Beneventi. You’re demanding I help you.”
“Aren’t you tired of this? This has got to be our fifth round. They rang the damn bell. The fight is over. It’s a damn draw. So talk to me.” Probably one too many fighting analogies for my little author.
“And what if you don’t like what you see after?” she asks with a trembling voice.
“You really think that’s how this plays out?” I ask, wanting her to see what’s here, right in front of her. She stuffs her hands in the pocket of my hoodie, and I smile. “You look damn good in my clothes, principessa.”
Dillan shakes her head but doesn’t move away, and maybe that’s the first step.
“Have you ever been compared to someone and been found lacking?” she whispers but holds her head up, like she’s determined not to cower under the weight of that question.
“By absolutely everyone? Because I have. For years. Once Lilah and Noah exploded onto the music scene and the world took notice, they didn’t just want to talk about Lilah and Noah.
They talked about us. Our entire family.
My siblings, the international music stars.
My mom, the famous author whose best-selling books have been turned into shows and films. My dad, who’s a Hall of Fame quarterback and coach.
Even Asher . . . the whole world knows he’s going in the first round of the draft.
We’re a family of overachievers. Everyone but me. ”
“Dillan—”
“No. You asked, and I’m not going to talk about this again, so let me get it out.
My sister is beautiful and graceful and talented and kind.
She has the perfect face. The perfect body.
The perfect voice. I don’t. And the world is cruel.
Their words are cruel. They pick and pick and pick, not caring what they’re doing to someone’s psyche.
Not caring that their words ripping apart a fourteen-year-old girl can be so awful that everyone in school would latch on to each one of them.
That hearing how you’re not as pretty or thin or talented could destroy someone.
Or better yet, force them to try to control the parts she foolishly convinced herself she could control. ”
Tears gather in the corners of her eyes as she bites her bottom lip, and my fucking heart hurts in my chest.
“It’s taken a whole lot of years, a whole lot of therapy, and even more time spent relearning a healthy relationship with food and exercise, but I don’t hate myself anymore.
I know my triggers, Rome. I know them, and I avoid them.
But this . . .” She closes her eyes and blows out a breath before opening them and letting the first tear fall. “This whole situation is a trigger.”
I keep my hands to myself, ignoring every instinct I have to comfort her because this woman doesn’t want my comfort. Not when I’m the reason she’s in pain.
“I still run when I’m stressed. It helps quiet the voices. That’s where I was this morning. And I guess I wasn’t ready for Liv to be here when I got back. Not with this. Not now.”
“You don’t have to do this, Dillan. I didn’t know . . .” Fuck. I want to take it all away. Everything that hurt her. Forcing her into this.
“I said I’d do it, and I will. It’s too late for us to call this off now. That would just make us both look like fools, and I’m not ready for that either.” She takes a step away. “But Rome . . . now you know. What you do next is up to you. I have to get showered and go to work.”
I watch her walk away, wondering what the fuck I have to do to break this cycle we’re in.
Because it’s gonna break.
One way or the other, everything does.
Dillan
“But it’s not him, right?” Lexie asks as she sips her cup of tea while we sit on the fluffy pink couch in the corner of Hopeless Romantics while Kaleigh mans the front desk.
We’ve had a slow trickle of customers all day today.
Enough to keep me occupied without losing my mind, even if I’m certain some people came in just to scope me out.
There’ve been definite eyes on me throughout the day, and I caught one or two people trying to nonchalantly take pictures.
I guess they thought I was either blind or oblivious because they were more than obvious about the whole thing.
“No, it’s not him. But it’s still . . .” I trail off, unsure what I’m trying to say, but Lexie seems to understand. At least she thinks she does. Though really, how can she when Rome and I aren’t together. We’re not like Lex and Lucky.
But if that’s true, why does this niggling feeling in my brain keep nudging me?
What if we were?
What if we could be?
What if I’d trusted Rome enough to ask him about that call two years ago?
Where would we be now?
“Have you ever been so mad at Lucky that you jumped to a conclusion and were wrong?” I finally ask because it’s not like I can tell her the truth. But I somehow need to talk to someone about this. “I think I messed up. And I think I’ve clung to that for so long, I’m not sure how to let it go.”
“Hmm . . .” She looks at me over the top of her pink cup.
“I’m not sure it’s the same thing, but I think I know what you mean.
And the best advice I can give you is decide if it’s worth it.
Whatever you’re holding on to. Is it worth missing out on what could be if you do let go?
I mean, you’re not giving me a whole lot to go on here, Dillan. ”
“I know. I’m sorry,” I offer softly. “I’m just trying to work some things out.
” I try to figure out a safe way to word any of it.
“We sort of jumped over a few steps, and we still have a few things to work out. I guess this whole sex-tape thing brought up some old insecurities. I don’t know what I’m trying to say. ”
“For what it’s worth, here’s my two cents as the woman married to the youngest Beneventi.
They’re built differently. They love differently.
Not saying you and Rome are in love, not that it’s even any of my business.
But if you think he’s it. If you think he’s worth living with .
. . spending your life with . . . don’t fight it.
Fight for it. Those men are worth it. Don’t get me wrong, they’re all giant assholes.
But not to us. Never to us. So figure out the steps you skipped and decide if you’re okay missing them or if you want to go back and walk them together. ”
I wrap my arm around my cousin and lean my head against hers. We almost lost Lexie a few months ago, and I can’t imagine a world without her in it. “I love you, Lex.”
“Love you too, Dillan.”
“How long did it take you to speak Beneventi?” I ask, more than a little serious.
“I’m still working on it,” she admits with a laugh.
“That’s what I was afraid of.”