Chapter 15
NOT A CHEESY HALLMARK FILM
ROMAN
It’s been two whole minutes and Roman hasn’t been able to move since Jahlani passed out in his arms. Two whole minutes of him staring at her parted lips and reddened cheeks.
The shock of her laughter, he slowly realizes, is what did it.
Laughing at him. But maybe her falling in his arms, her cheek pressed to his chest, her makeup definitely staining the white of his button-down, which he couldn’t bring himself to care about, her delicate snores, and usually tense countenance all pacified, played a part too.
Shifting her body against him, he pulls a loose strand of hair away from her nose.
She twitches, and he resists the urge to run his finger down its path.
His eyes travel down to her parted lips as he watches her breathing even out.
They’re not their usual chestnut-brown color. They’re lighter. Fuller.
Distracting.
His mouth dries as he takes in the crease of her lips, the way they seem to fluff out into this delicate pout begging to be kissed. His arms tense at the thought.
He certainly didn’t expect to see her across the room tonight, and he definitely didn’t anticipate encountering her drunk. Jahlani mumbles incoherently as he adjusts her in his arms.
God, what is she wearing?
It’s everything and nothing at the same time. It’s paper-thin. The leather jacket she had on earlier was covering the thin straps on her shoulders, but he had watched from a distance as she tossed it to the floor. Now the delicate curves of her shoulders are exposed, as is her chest.
She’s not wearing a bra. Her hardened nipples protrude against the barely-there barrier, leaving nothing to the imagination.
Was it against university policy to stare at your graduate teaching assistant’s nipples?
He averts his gaze, adjusting her to bend down and swipe the jacket from the floor.
He manages with expert dexterity to wrap the jacket around her body without waking her.
She shivers in response, curling further into him.
Shit.
Adjusting her, he guides them to the bench outside the hallway so that she’s resting her head in the crook of his neck.
Her soft breaths hit his skin and it’s comical how much it’s doing for him.
His eyes travel down to her exposed wrist where he sees the bruise forming.
He rubs a hand over the welt, testing the skin, and she winces, sighing against his neck.
Two days ago, she was tearing him apart. Now she’s here again. Doing things to him without even trying.
“I don’t … need your … help,” she says, her voice laden with sleep.
Roman turns slightly to see that her eyes are still screwed shut. He chuckles. Her eyebrows are pinched, and her mouth is downturned. Even in her sleep, she’s fighting him.
He moves a stray braid from her face, grazing her cheek.
“I know, Jones. You don’t need anyone,” he whispers into her hair.
“You’re so fucking smart, and beautiful.
Stubborn as hell.” He sighs, dropping his hand.
“If you’d let me get a word in that day, I would have told you.
” He twists his neck to look down at her.
“But something tells me, you’re not ready to hear that yet. ”
Suddenly, her fists clench at her sides and she turns further into his neck, her damp forehead heavy against his collar.
“Roman.”
His entire body stills as she tenses against him. Soft, harsh breaths fall from her throat. He blinks, unsure of what to do. He decides that he imagined the whole thing and that she didn’t just say his name in her sleep.
He looks down, trying to catch her eye, because the only logical explanation is that she’s awake, trying to get his attention and not the highly improbable explanation.
He licks his lips when he takes in her flushed cheeks and shut eyes. A more distinct sigh falls from her lips, and his head falls back against the wall. He feels her body further slump into his shoulder as he lets out a shaky exhale.
Well, fuck.
A woman with red locs that move with her rounds the corner, tapping away in a frenzy on her phone.
“Jahlani, I can’t find Trent anywhere—oh, God.”
She moves to Jahlani’s side, crouching down so that she’s eye level with her. She draws a hand to Jahlani’s face, tapping her cheek as she attempts to lift her head from his shoulder.
“Jahlani, wake up. Shit. Where is Trent? I’m going to murder him when I find him.” She talks fast and under her breath, not meeting his eyes as she lifts Jahlani from his shoulder. “Shit,” she says through a winded sigh. “I need to find Trent.”
She looks to the left and down the hallway which leads back out to the floor, and to the right before looking back to Jahlani. She lets out a groan, standing to her full height. Roman watches as her eyes dart around the building and back to a sleeping Jahlani.
Roman clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “I can stay so that you can find him.”
The woman looks down at him, her eyes thinning as she pulls Jahlani toward her. He throws his hands up.
“We know each other from school,” he says, hoping that will soothe the weariness in her eyes, but he realizes he’s mistaken when her lip pulls back.
“I also work here,” he says, but it comes out sounding more like a question, and he wants to shake himself.
But her eyes soften, and the crease between her eyebrows unfolds as she lets out a soft “oh.”
She shakes her head, her shoulders dropping. “Sorry.”
“No need to apologize. I get it,” he says as he rests his elbows on his knees. “Here, I’ll even show you my driver’s license.”
Her eyes widen as she shakes her head. “You don’t have to.”
But he’s already searching his pocket, and when his fingers grab the plastic card, he turns to show her. She leans forward, her eyes flashing between the photograph and his face before she moves back, nodding.
“Sorry,” she says, blowing out a long breath. “I’m just—yeah. Sorry about her too,” she says, motioning her head to Jahlani, who is still sleeping with soft breaths. “She’s such a lightweight.”
He doesn’t mind in the slightest about that.
Roman turns to watch Jahlani, and he has the sudden urge to pull her back to him. He clears his throat again, shrugging as he adjusts himself on the bench.
“It’s my job,” he says, and he hopes that she doesn’t see through his lie. He hopes it sounds convincing. He looks back up to face the woman and gestures in the direction of the floor. “Go. I’ll be here.”
She still doesn’t look convinced, and Jahlani blinks her eyes open slowly, lifting her head from where it’s resting against the woman. Roman grows rigid, preparing for the worst as she rubs at her eyes.
“Teryn,” she murmurs, swaying. “I’m so tired. Let’s just go home.”
As Jahlani turns to face him, her blinks are slow and delayed as she traces his features with her eyes. The hair rises on the nape of his neck as he allows her to scrutinize him. He expects her to sneer at him, to say something about his proximity, but instead she does the last thing he expects.
She leans forward, until their noses almost touch, and lets out a deep sigh, her eyes bouncing and bright.
“You have the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen,” she whispers, blinking slowly. “They’re so beautiful.”
Roman can’t stop the smile that spreads across his face. “You’re so drunk,” he says with a laugh, shaking his head. “You need sleep.”
His eyes dart to look up at Teryn, who looks at Jahlani with a raised eyebrow and tilted head. Teryn shakes her head, pointing to the floor, and mouths that she’s going to find Trent. Roman gives her a discreet nod, turning his body to face Jahlani as she continues to speak.
“No, seriously,” she says, her voice slurring as she waves her hand around.
“They’re beautiful. It’s like … like they’re not even real.
It’s so … infuriating, and I can’t stop seeing them,” she says, drawing an index finger to her head.
“I can’t stop thinking about what you told me that day. And your eyes—”
“Jahlani,” he starts, but she continues speaking, her hands gesturing with each word.
“Your eyes looked so … angry,” she says softly, slumping back against the wall before inching back down to rest her head on his shoulder. “I hated it. Don’t look at me like that again, okay? I’m sorry about everything. I’m just … so sorry.”
Roman shakes his head, rubbing his jaw. “You didn’t know, Jahlani. It’s okay.”
He angles his head to meet her eyes, but he sees that they’re closed and she’s back to sleeping. He laughs softly, adjusting her into a more comfortable position against his shoulder.
Teryn rounds the corner sooner than he’d like with the same guy she shared her drink with earlier. He walks up to where they’re sitting, gripping the underside of Jahlani’s arms and lifting her from the bench.
He tilts his chin toward Roman, who is still sitting. “Thanks, man.”
Roman gives a discreet nod, watching as they leave. His chest feels as though it’s on fire because it should be him taking her home.
But he can’t.
And it bothers him more than usual tonight.
It’s well after midnight when he pulls into his driveway, the porchlight flickering in greeting.
“Dan, I’m here.”
Roman drops his keys into the porcelain dish before bending down to quietly slip off his shoes. Rounding the corner, he takes in the dimly lit kitchen. A lone pizza box sits on the island. Danica sits crisscrossed on the three-seater couch placed in the center of the living room.
She scowls, at something on her screen, draping a blanket across her shoulders as she sits up.
“I’m gonna need you to get a babysitter—what happened to your face?”
Roman ignores her, moving to heat up the few slices of pizza left in the box, before rummaging in the fridge for ice.
“Roman.”
“Dan, I’m fine. He was drunk. Chill out.”
“Roman,” she says, giving him a pointed look. “You’re way too forgiving.”
He inhales deeply, turning to grab a plate from the cabinet.