Chapter 16
ORDINARY
JAHLANI
Jahlani isn’t sure how she ended up back here in less than twenty-four hours.
The bar looks just as classy in the daytime, the skyline a soft azure, clear and non-threatening, but Jahlani knows better than to trust it.
The street is fairly quiet and the large windows of the bar are closed, protecting patrons from the oppressive humidity that September in Florida brings.
Jahlani wipes her palms against her jeans, pushing her sunglasses to rest on her head as she steps up to the door.
Checking her reflection in the tint, she steps into the space, the atmosphere calming her senses.
Low murmurs, dishware clinking and ice being poured filter through.
She finds him too quickly, his tall frame bent backward as he laughs at something being said.
Squeezing her fists closed and then spreading them, she walks slowly to the counter, rehearsing her speech in her head.
It’s as if he senses her because his eyes meet hers before she’s able to take another step. Her mouth seems to dry as every pair of eyes follow her as she walks.
She only focuses on one, as she reaches the velvet stool. Roman’s dressed in black slacks and a white button-down, the sleeves rolled up to reveal smooth skin scattered with a few beauty marks. Several veins are peeking through. His hair is tousled in its usual manner, and his eyes shine bright.
He’s stupidly handsome.
It sickens her.
Especially when he smiles down at her like they’re old friends. Like they have a secret. Like he’s happy to see her.
She clears her throat. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
She takes a steadying breath. “Can we talk—”
“Oh, hey! You’re the girl that passed out on him last night.”
Jahlani’s eyes widen a fraction as she turns to the low-pitched voice. Her body flushes as she gives a tight nod to a girl with curly hair and round cheeks.
“That’s me,” she says, her lips forming a thin line.
“I’m Ashlynn. This is Vaughn,” she gestures to a burly guy covered in tattoos with his arms crossed.
Jahlani clears her throat, interlacing her fingers. “Nice to meet you both. Roman, can I talk to you, please?” She adds, “In private.”
Ashlynn and Vaughn exchange the look, the one that screams Roman has spilled every last interaction they’ve had with each other to the two of them. It makes her want to scream, cry, and throw up, because it can’t have been a pretty picture.
Can you believe she’s my GTA?
That’s the raging bitch that flipped out on me.
As they round the corner, Jahlani is so wrapped up in her head she doesn’t notice him stop, and she walks into his solid, well-defined back.
“Sorry.”
“Are you okay?”
“Fine. I’m fine,” she says, stepping back. Looking around, she sees that they’re in the same hallway from last night. Roman stands against the opposite wall, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable.
She wipes her hands against her jeans again, feeling more nervous than before. “I don’t want to keep you long. I just … came to apologize for last night and to give you this.”
She starts rifling through her bag. Straightening out the bills, she holds the money out in the space between them.
“Here.”
He blinks down the two twenty-dollar bills in her hand, unmoving.
She clears her throat, shuffling on her feet. “It’s not much, but I figured it’s something to pay for dry cleaning since I probably got makeup on your clothes … and for the drinks.”
He continues to stare, unmoving. Jahlani sighs, dropping her arm when it begins to burn.
“Roman, I’m really trying here,” she says toward her feet, unable to look him in the face. Two girls walk by giggling, disappearing into the restroom three feet away from them.
“I don’t want your money,” he says finally, once the door closes behind them.
She grits her teeth. “Take the money. I know it’s not much, but it should cover most of it.”
Pushing from the wall, he runs both hands through his hair as he towers over her. “You’re infuriating, you know that?”
Her eyebrows draw together, heat spreading through her. “Well, take the money and I’ll be out of your way.”
He bends closer. “I don’t want it.”
“Fucking take it,” she whispers through clenched teeth, slapping the paper against his chest. His hand immediately closes around her own.
Warm and possessive. He traps her fingers, his jaw ticking as he looks down at her.
Gently, he turns her palm over, removing the crushed bills, slipping them back into her bag.
“I don’t want your money,” he says again, his voice low.
His hand is still holding hers, and she knows that she should pull away, but she can’t bring herself to give a fuck, because it feels nice. Really nice. She exhales, licking her lips, noticing his hand tightens in hers.
“What do you want?” she asks, the cotton of his shirt shifting under her fingertips.
Suddenly, the bathroom door swings open again, and the two girls walk back out. Jahlani pulls her hand back, creating a crater for them to walk through. One of the girls stops, facing Jahlani.
“You both are so cute together.”
“We’re not together,” Jahlani says immediately, holding his gaze across the space. He looks away, his jaw ticking, and she’s almost certain she saw a flash of disappointment cross his features.
We have a thing.
Except, no. They don’t. They can’t.
The girl frowns, seemingly confused, then moves to catch up with her friend.
Jahlani digs her nails into her palms, leaning her head back against the wall. “I didn’t come here to fight with you. I just came to apologize. Take the money, or don’t.” She rubs her forehead. “Just please, don’t say anything to Professor Jackson. I really need—”
“Why would I say anything to Professor Jackson?”
She narrows her eyes, as in, you can’t be serious, pushing from the wall.
“Oh, I don’t know, Roman. Maybe because every time we’ve been in a room alone together lately, all my professionalism and decorum seem to fly out the fucking window.
Maybe because I wrongly attacked the character of a student I’m supposed to be helping.
Maybe because I got drunk at the bar that said undergrad works at, maybe because I passed out on said undergrad.
You pick,” she says, chest heaving. “The list is endless.”
He works his tongue against his cheek as his hands rise, then fall back to his sides.
“I’m not … a bad guy, Jahlani,” he says slowly.
Her head rears back. “I know that.”
“Do you?” he says, his tone incredulous. “Do you actually believe that?” He steps forward, closing the space between them, shaking his head.
“The fact that you think I would—” He blows out an exasperated breath. “Why are you so hellbent on making me into some villain?”
“I’m not,” she says. I don’t mean to. “I’m not,” she says again, quite pathetically.
Roman sighs, looking toward the ceiling, his Adam’s apple working through a swallow before looking at her.
“I’m not a bad guy,” he repeats, his eyebrows pinched together.
“I know,” she says, stepping back. “I should go. I shouldn’t have come here.”
“No,” he says, grabbing her bag strap and tugging her forward.
“No?” she repeats, ignoring the tingles through her arm.
“You have yet to hear my side, and I just … just don’t leave. I meant what I said. Give me a chance to explain.”
She scratches her eyebrow, looking toward the exit. “I … don’t think that’s a good idea.”
His jaw clenches. “Why?”
“Roman,” she says, like a parent scolding their child. “Come on. Every time we’re in a room together, it’s …” She trails off, shaking her head again.
His eyebrows raise.
Confusing.
Unnerving.
She licks her lips, painfully aware of how his eyes track the motion.
“Too much,” she settles on.
His eyes shift over her, seemingly determined. “You asked me what I wanted. This is what I want.” Checking his watch, he looks back at her. “I have to get back, but I’ll be an hour max.”
Spinning on his heel, he disappears behind a set of double doors.
Tilting her head up, she lets out a groan before moving into the restroom.
Setting her bag on the counter, she drags both hands down her face before turning the tap on.
Letting the water run for a minute, she places her hands under it before pressing them to her face.
“Fuck,” she says, slamming the tap off and staring at her reflection. She knew coming here was a bad decision. Now she feels compelled to stay when all she wants to do is go to the house and crawl into her bed for the rest of the weekend.
But as she pushes open the door, granting her access back to the lounge, she finds herself walking toward a booth in the back corner before sinking into the cushioned seat. She pulls a book and her reading glasses from her bag before settling in, her body fully aware that she’s being watched.
She only makes it through one chapter when a drink lands on her table.
“Oh, I didn’t—”
The girl, Ashlynn, sends her a sheepish smile. “He said you need to drink something,” she says, before moving away.
Jahlani flips her book over, her gaze sliding to him across the way. He immediately meets her eyes and makes a subtle drinking motion and her lips part in disbelief when he resumes serving the woman in front of him. She deliberately pushes the glass to the opposite end, picking her book back up.
This time she only makes it into two pages before she closes it. Leaning back, she looks around the room before landing on him.
Chewing over her bottom lip, she checks the time before sliding her chin into her palms. Jahlani has never been into people-watching but she can’t seem to draw her attention away from Roman as he moves around.
She thinks that it will be different, after all, she was fairly tipsy last night, but the familiar tug enters her body as she looks at him.
He’s still charming.
Still confident.
Still perfectly patient.
A juxtaposition to her. She isn’t sure how much time has passed when she watches him disappear behind a set of double doors, returning several minutes later with a plate of fries and a burger.
He sets it down in front of her before sliding into the opposite side, their knees brushing in the process.
“You waited,” he says, smiling. “Thank you.”
She nods, jutting her chin out. “I did. Are the fries my reward?”
She sits up straighter when her stomach involuntarily groans, trying to stifle the sound.
He laughs, pushing the plate closer to her. “The burger is for you. The fries are mine.”
She hesitates, blinking at him as he pulls out ketchup, salt, and mayonnaise packets, squeezing them onto the side of the plate before popping one in his mouth. She watches as he chews and leans back against the booth.
“Thank you,” she murmurs before clearing her throat. They eat in silence for several minutes, and the whole interaction is so fucking ordinary, it terrifies her.
Because it’s nice.
It’s something that she could get used to.
And that’s dangerous.
Clearing her throat, she sits up, wiping her hands on the napkins he grabbed. “What did you want to talk about?”
He sips from his drink, wiping the back of his hand against his mouth.
“Where’s the fire, Jones?”
She looks away because there’s literally nowhere she has to be. There’s no one checking for her. But the notion is too embarrassing and sad to air out, so she shrugs as nonchalantly as possible, not meeting his eyes.
“I just have some things I need to take care of. And I’m sure you need to get back to your daughter,” she says, resting her elbows on the table. He wipes his hands with a napkin before sitting upright.
“My sister’s with her. I have time. Plus, I don’t like the idea of you thinking I’m playing with you. I meant what I said when I asked for your help, and I’m sorry I made you feel otherwise. That was never my intention.”
Her shoulders slump, and she looks down at her finger, picking at a hangnail.
“I’m sorry too,” she says, looking back at him across the table.
She concentrates on the space between his eyebrows, unable and unwilling to meet his eyes as she speaks.
“Earlier that day, actually, a few minutes before you came in, my dad … he called,” she says in a small voice.
“We don’t have a great relationship … and yeah, I guess he upset me a lot more than I realized.
And you were there,” she says, letting out a short laugh.
“It sounds so childish when I say it out loud. ‘He upset me.’ Jesus, I need to grow up.”
She reaches for the glass of water, taking several sips, her face heating. Setting it down, she wipes the corner of her mouth, shifting in the booth. He’s staring at her again and the hairs on her arms raise.
“It’s not childish, Jahlani. Parents can be a lot. Have you spoken to him about it?”
Jahlani gives him a fixed stare. “Talking requires the recipient to listen. That’s not a thing in Caribbean households. It’s their way or the highway. I took the highway already and now I’m back, so I have to lie in the bed I’ve made.”
Roman opens his mouth, but Jahlani shakes her head. “I don’t want to talk about him anymore, okay?”
He raises his hands. “Okay, what do you want to talk about?”
Jahlani crosses her feet together under the table, causing their legs to touch even more, resting her chin in her hands.
“Tell me about your daughter. Tell me about your Lucy.”