Chapter 14 #2
It’s huge and luxurious, set back against the trees at sunset, like a Bob Ross painting. Happy little trees and happy little people, but all I feel is anxiety.
Until Roman opens my door and takes my hand. “I got you.”
It’s all I need to hear to take those steps up the small slope and enter the foyer of the stone building, all rustic beauty and expensive crystal.
With a duffel on his back, and the rest of our bags in his right hand, he threads the fingers of his left hand with mine, a silent reminder that he’s got me.
At the check-in desk, he lets me take the lead but stands behind me, caging me in, almost like he’s protecting me from whatever enemy is lurking in the lobby, which has me giggling as I accept our room keys.
He tosses me a curious look as he holds my hand once again, but I merely shake my head and point to the elevator.
Our room is up on the third floor, and when I offer to carry my bags, he rolls his eyes at me, gently smacking my ass with one of them as I lead us up to our room. I open the door, allowing Roman in first, but he freezes only a few steps inside.
“What’s wrong?” I stand on my toes, trying to peek over his giant frame, but only make out the door across from us, which leads to a balcony. “My mom booked the room. Is it all right?”
“Yeah. Fine by me, but…” He shifts, allowing me to scoot past him and see the bed.
The bed.
One. Bed.
I let out a breath and squeeze my eyes shut. “She was worried I wouldn’t book in time and told me she’d do it. I didn’t think… I should’ve…” I spin to face him. “I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?”
“Because…” I gesture behind me to the lone bed. Granted, it’s enormous, but still. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
He tosses the bags on the floor and sprawls out on the bed, hands behind his head. “This might actually be the most comfortable I’ve been in a long time.”
I flop next to him. “Don’t find many beds that fit a refrigerator, huh?”
“Nope.”
“You aren’t mad?”
He angles his head to me, his face set in annoyance. “No. I’m not mad.” His dark eyes make a circuit of my face. “There are very few things that will make me mad. One of them happens to be anyone who’s made you feel so self-conscious.”
I roll onto my side, suddenly wanting nothing more than to curl up next to him. Fall asleep with my head on his shoulder. Name my firstborn after him…the usual.
He brushes a few wisps of hair from my temple before exhaling audibly and studying the room, a fireplace below the flat-screen television and the small table for two tucked into the corner next to the window.
Everything is decorated in muted blues and greens, lots of dark wood and plush white bedding.
“Gotta admit, though, this is a nice fucking room.”
I cackle. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”
His mouth tugs up at the corners in a smile, obviously finding amusement in my maniacal, slightly delirious laughter, all this nervous energy with nowhere to go. “You wanna go take a walk?” he asks. “Explore the rest of this dump?”
“Yeah. Let’s see what awful amenities they have.”
“Probably nothing.” He stands and holds out his hand for me, lacing our fingers together again as we head out the door.
His fingers are long and thick, callused on his palm, but gentle in his touch, and I don’t think twice about leaning into his side or wrapping my other hand around his forearm, as if I could ever keep him in place.
Though he doesn’t seem like he wants to go anywhere.
Inside the elevator, he pulls me closer to make room for a handful of other guests and ducks his head down to mine.
I can’t be sure, but I swear he kisses my hair.
Before I can question it, the doors open to the main floor, and he guides me out to the patio, the ski slopes in the not-so-far-off distance.
The air is crisp and clean and a touch cold.
Roman loops his arm around my shoulders, immediately warming me up. “Can’t say I’ve ever stayed anywhere this nice before.”
I burrow into him as close as possible, hands fisting his T-shirt, and I press my nose into his chest, inhaling his scent, comfy like clean cotton and spicy like cardamom. Intoxicating.
I inhale deeply and absent-mindedly rub my cheek against him like a cat.
I don’t realize what I’m doing until his hands are on the back of my head, guiding it up.
When I meet his gaze, I blink a few times, embarrassed.
“Sorry about that.” I pat his chest. “You’d be surprised how soft these hard-packed muscles are. ”
For how big I am, he dwarfs me. With his hands on either side of my face and the breadth of his body blocking out anything else, I can only see him. “Don’t ever apologize for touching me.”
I swallow at the command, at the pure lust in his voice, lowering it a few registers, deep enough to send a shiver down my spine. Of course, I reach for a joke. “Because you’re worse than Kyle?”
He nods solemnly. “So much fucking worse.”
Then he closes the last few inches between us and kisses me.
It’s slow and sweet and makes my toes curl, a bare hint of his tongue along my bottom lip. And over all too quickly when I’m abruptly hit with reality.
“Well, I see you’ve finally arrived.”
I hop back, startled, and find myself face-to-face with my mother. Her eyes are wide, her lips pinched, and I wipe my hand over my mouth as if I could wipe away the evidence of the kiss.
She stays silent, eyes darting back and forth between me and the real-life mountain next to me. I wrap my arm around his waist. “Mom, is this my boyfriend, Roman.”
She is tall, but only about 5’8”, and she has to tilt her head back to take in all of him. All 6’5” and 200-some pounds of him. The tattoos and long, dark hair. Tawny skin and unyielding gaze.
For the first time in her life, I think my mom isn’t the one to judge first. She is being judged.
And maybe found wanting.
“Roman,” she says eventually in greeting.
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Thorne.”
“You can call me Katherine.”
“Katherine,” he repeats, and Mom clears her throat, obviously not knowing what to make of him.
I fucking love it.
Until she turns her gaze to me. “I was worried you weren’t going to make it in time.”
I roll my eyes. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Why would you?” She checks the slender silver watch on her wrist. “It’s almost time for the rehearsal, and you’re not even dressed.”
I glance down at my leggings and Barbie sweatshirt. “It’ll take me five minutes to change.”
She hums dubiously, and I sigh. “I will see you there.”
She arches her brow in warning then turns to Roman once more. “I suppose we…can chat later.”
He doesn’t verbally answer, only nods, and I don’t miss the way she eyes him, a little nervously.
“Don’t be late,” she singsongs as she trots off, and I heave a sigh, sagging into Roman’s side.
“Say the word, and I’ll tell her to fuck right off with her bullshit.”
“Kind of you to offer, but no. You can’t do that.”
“What can I do?” he asks, tugging me to face him, settling his hands on my waist.
“Being here with me is enough.”
He murmurs a quiet assent then kisses me again, though it’s not slow and sweet like before.
This kiss is demanding, possessive. I moan, fisting my hands in his shirt, pulling him closer so I can feel the heat of his body against mine, the hard muscles beneath his shirt.
And I’m more interested in climbing him like a tree than I am in going to this rehearsal and dinner.
He moves his hand to the back of my neck, holding me in place, and I melt into him, forgetting about anything else but him and the groan he makes when I slide my tongue along his lips, searching for his.
He tastes faintly of coffee and the apple-cinnamon muffin I brought for him to snack on while we drove, and he lowers his head, dragging me further into him with his magnetic pull.
I press up onto my toes, desperate for more.
I drape my arms around his neck, aiming to show him how much I’ve been thinking about this since our dinner, but he breaks the kiss, evidently much more responsible than me.
“We can’t do this right now,” he says against my lips, and I wonder… Does that mean there is another time to do it?
“What was that for?” I place my hands on his shoulders to steady myself since I’m dizzy. “There’s no show to put on.”
“Because I wanted to,” he rasps, voice like sandpaper. “Not because someone was watching. Not because I’m supposed to.” He strokes my cheek with his thumb, his eyes never leaving mine. “I kissed you because I wanted to.”