12. Lavinia
TWELVE
LAVINIA
“Thank you for doing that,” I whisper to Roman, as I walk him to the family suite.
“I told you he’s a fucker with the personality of a wet blanket,” Roman says. “Seriously, let me go back and I’ll take care of him for you right now.”
“I need a drink,” I say.
I push open the door and walk into the suite.
I look around for my family and find my dad talking to Drew and Roman’s father.
My mom is talking to Mrs. Maddox, Jules is with the grandmothers and Aunt Constance.
Jules looks up when I walk in, her blue eyes looking down at Roman’s and my joined hands, and raises an eyebrow.
I’ll tell you later , I mouth.
“Your parents are here,” I tell Roman. “I didn’t see them before. Do you want to go meet them?”
Roman’s expression blanks as he turns to find his parents. Neither of them is looking in our direction. He turns back to me with a smile on his face, but I don’t miss the tightness in his eyes.
“And leave my girlfriend to fend for herself? I don’t think so.”
Before I can say we don’t have to pretend anymore, Josh and Jessie walk into the family suite. It’s like a ripple goes through my family and friends and suddenly they’re on high alert, looking from Josh to me. Roman leads me to the bar and orders me a lemon drop.
“How do you know I like lemon drops?” I sit down at a stool and adjust my skirt so I’m not accidentally showing more thigh than I intend to.
“I’m a very good stalker,” Roman says.
I wrinkle my nose, trying not to laugh. The bartender sets the drink in front of me, and I pick it up, licking the sugar off the rim. Roman’s eyes are heated, tracking my tongue as it disappears into my mouth.
For the first time, I notice what he’s wearing. Black pants with a black shirt that he’s left unbuttoned down to his chest, the sleeves rolled up to show the tattoos on his arms, his hair is wet, but as it dries, pieces of it curl and fall on his forehead.
I think I swallow my tongue with the lemon drop.
“Lavinia, there is something I have to ask you,” he says, voice dropping low. “It’s a matter of life and death.”
I nod, still distracted by his chest. There are tattoos peeking out through the gap in his shirt and I want to see more of them. The ones on his arms are distracting enough.
I see a hint of a compass by the crease of his elbow and most of his forearm is tattooed with part of the world map, wrapping around his arm. The work is intricate and detailed, the lines thinly defined. Gosh, it must have taken hours, days of pain and patience, to get it.
Roman puts two fingers under my chin and tilts my head back until our eyes meet.
“Eyes up here, Blossom.” He smirks. “On second thought, feel free to eye-fuck me any time.”
I roll my eyes and look away from him, taking a sip of my drink so I can pretend my cheeks are heated because of the alcohol.
“Gosh, I’m surprised we can even fit into this room with you and your ego taking up all the space,” I snark. “What was it that you wanted to ask me? Your life-or-death question.”
Roman leans in closer, his hand coming to rest on the stool under me, so it’s almost like he’s caging me in.
I’m hyper aware that we’re not alone in this room and at the same time, I can’t seem to recall why I should care.
My body and mind have a strange response to Roman that I’ve never experienced with anyone before.
“Are you wearing lace top thigh highs under that skirt?”
“That is not a life-or-death question!” I laugh.
“It is for me when I feel like I might die without knowing the answer.”
“I can’t tell you all my secrets.” Even as I say it, I cross one leg over the other, causing my skirt to ride up and reveal the lace top of my stockings. Roman looks up at the ceiling, mouthing a quiet, “thank you.”
“I’ll take fourteen of them,” he says to me, which causes me to laugh harder. At least I’m not the only one who’s chronically online.
“I saw the Maniacs,” I say. It’s a group of women who collectively call themselves the Maddox Maniacs, and they’re very big fans of Roman. Whether they’re hockey fans or not is unconfirmed.
What’s confirmed is that he’s had sex with these women and that is a good reminder for me. At the end of the day, Roman’s a playboy and I’m a relationship girl. I can’t change myself at thirty-two years old; I’m exhausted from existing.
Roman grimaces. “We don’t have to talk about that.”
“But I’m so curious. You slept with all these women, and they all fell in love with you?”
Roman leans closer, eyes lit up. “Are you curious enough to find out for yourself, Blossom?”
“I guess I can go talk to them. Do you think they’d mind? I’m not one of their ranks.” I sip my drink slowly, looking at Roman over the edge of the rim.
“To really understand it, you need to have the experience firsthand.”
“Guess I’ll never know then,” I say with a pout.
“Life is too long to say you’ll never have the experience.”
I’m aware of people looking at us and wondering what’s going on. I’m aware that Josh is still in the room, his presence like a dark cloud in the corner. No one’s approached us, not even my family or any of the Titans.
“Some experiences are better left to the imagination, I find,” I say.
“Then there are some experiences you want to repeat over and over again.” Roman’s leaning in close enough to kiss and a part of me wants exactly that.
There’s a crash on the other side of the room that sends a shock through my nervous system, and I turn to find the source.
Josh. There’s broken glass around his feet, liquid spreading from it, and his eyes are trained right at me.
My heart slams inside my chest and I have this intense urge to run away, but I tell myself to stay because I did nothing wrong.
Roman grabs my chin in a possessive hold and turns my head until I’m looking at him.
“Eyes on me, Blossom.”
My body heats as I imagine him saying those words to me in much sexier circumstances, when we’re not surrounded by people.
“Angel pie.” Roman lets go of me long enough for me to look at Aunt Constance, who’s just walked to our side. “We’re about to leave because Liz is getting tired. Not me, of course, I can stay awake for hours. I told them flirting is good for you, but they don’t want to listen.”
I grin at her. “Sure, Aunt Constance, I’m ready to leave, but not before I introduce you to Roman.” I turn to Roman and find him watching us with a pleasant expression, the heat in his eyes gone. “Roman, this is my great aunt, Constance Kelly. Aunt Constance, Roman Maddox.”
Aunt Constance offers him her hand and he kisses the back of it, like a Southern gentleman. “Ms. Kelly, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I see that beauty runs in the family.”
Aunt Constance laughs delightfully, waving him off. “Please, call me Constance. You’re the young ones, it’s your time to shine. And shine you do, like a star, especially with my Lavinia next to you.”
Roman’s eyes meet mine. “Lavinia is the star, Constance. I only shine because she’s sharing her light.”
Aunt Constance places a hand over her chest and says something in French that I don’t understand because unlike her, I didn’t spend years studying in Paris and married to a French man.
The surprise is that Roman replies to her in French and Aunt Constance is delighted, her whole face lighting up. She finally has someone to speak French with.
I blink at Roman, wondering how it’s fair that not only he is attractive and alluring, speaks like the devil himself is whispering in his ear, but he can also speak a different language fluently, and a sexy one at that. I speak German fluently. Which is impressive, but hardly sexy.
Drew comes looming behind Aunt Constance, reminding us that it’s time to go.
“Constance, if Lavinia is Angel Pie, what does that make Drew?” Roman asks.
I’m already giggling as Drew says, “We don’t have time for this.”
Aunt Constance says, “Drew is Pudding Pie.”
Drew slams his eyes shut, so he misses the wide grin spreading across Roman’s face.
My brother shakes his head, leading Aunt Constance away before she reveals more embarrassing nicknames.
I finish the rest of my drink in one gulp and stand up.
Because Roman is standing so close to me, our bodies are flush together and I place a hand on his chest to steady myself. The drink seems to be going to my head.
“Be good,” I whisper.
“I’m always good,” Roman whispers back. I raise an eyebrow, and he laughs lightly. “Fine, I’ll try, but it’s not going to be easy.”
“I’m sure you’ll manage.” I kiss the corner of his mouth and pull away. His eyes drop to my mouth momentarily before flicking back to mine. There are emotions in his eyes I refuse to acknowledge.
“Good night, Roman.”
“Good night, Blossom.”