Chapter 22 #2
Until another car pulls up in front of the house, loud and clanking, turning into the driveway and parking next to Roman’s car.
It’s a familiar little sedan, I see as I squint my eyes. But because I’m not expecting it here, of all places, it takes a second for me to identify exactly where I’ve seen that car before…
Tyler.
That’s Tyler’s car. Isn’t it?
No. I frown, my attention completely diverted now as someone emerges from the driver side—scruffy beard, receding hairline, faded good looks.
My head swings back to Roman, whose expression has fallen. He sighs and puts his hands on his hips, watching Tyler approach.
“What—I—what?”
I am the picture of eloquence.
“As it happened,” Roman says with the air of someone resigned to an inevitable outcome, “Tyler was in need of a job”—Tyler’s gaze jumps back and forth as he trails down the sidewalk toward us—“and I was in need of some yard work.”
“Yard work?” I say faintly, my mind whirring.
Roman shrugs as Tyler shifts uncomfortably, keeping his distance when he comes to a stop.
“Lawn care,” Roman says. “Paint touch ups. Grout. That sort of thing.”
“Grout.”
“Grout,” he repeats, nodding.
Storm clouds roll in behind my sternum, lightning that cracks until the air buzzes with defeat—as once again the modicum of control I thought I’d earned turns out to be an illusion.
“So—even when Tyler paid me,” I say, “it really would just have been you paying me.”
Roman hums as Tyler backs further away.
“You could look at it like that,” he admits with another nod. His keys jingle as he folds his arms. “But I would have hired someone to do this job anyway. I didn’t do it for you specifically. I just saw a way to kill two birds with one stone, as it were.”
And although he doesn’t look repentant in the least, his eyes on me are careful and steady.
“You should have told me.”
Roman tilts his head. “Why?”
“Because,” I grit out, my hands fisting.
“Because why?” The words are soft, and Roman steps closer, his arms falling to his sides.
“So it would be easier for you to push me away?” One brow lifts as he moves nearer still.
“So you can be angry about something you feel entitled to control? But who I hire is my business, little vandal. Not yours.”
My cheeks flame with heat I don’t approve of, my heart frantic in my chest. “You could at least apologize,” I say as I look up at him.
And for a second, a spark of his old laughter flares to life in his eyes. He grins and ducks down until our gazes are level. “But I’m not sorry,” he whispers, so close I can feel his breath on my lips.
Now is not the time to flirt, I try to remind myself, but he’s too close, and he’s been on my mind too much lately—
“Anything else I should know?” I say to stop myself from wondering what it would be like to kiss him, or maybe to kick him.
His gaze shutters at this question, though, his grin fading, and my brows jump in surprise.
“What—is there something else?” My mind races as I try to figure out what he could be talking about, but I come up with nothing. He already hired Tyler; what else could he do?
“There…might be something else,” he says. “If we’re getting it all out in the open.”
“We are,” I say immediately. “We’re getting everything out in the open. What did you do?”
He tsks at me. “Why do you automatically assume I’ve done something?”
“Am I wrong?” I demand, putting my hands on my hips and preparing myself for the worst.
“Well…no,” he admits. He straightens up and looks down at me with hesitation. “I’m just not sure if I should tell you. You’ll get angry.”
I have no response for this.
“But I don’t want to lie,” he goes on. “Women don’t appreciate when men lie. We talked about that, remember?”
“I think you missed the point,” I say in a strangled voice. “If you’ll recall, women don’t appreciate when men do things they’d feel the need to lie about.”
He hums and nods slowly. “I do recall that, actually.”
“And at this point,” I go on, “not knowing is going to be infinitely worse than hearing about it.”
“Are you sure?” he says skeptically. “Because—”
“Tell me!”
He shrugs as though to say You asked. “I bought your house.”
And I simply…do not know how to breathe anymore. Words definitely don’t exist, and I’m not sure Roman is even a real human being.
I realize I’m spluttering nonsensically when I hear the sound. Several more seconds of unflattering noises escape until I force my world right-side up and then speak.
“What?”
It’s a good word. A great word, even. I’m proud of myself. I sound very calm, very normal.
But Roman? He is way too casual when he opens his mouth. “I bought your house,” he repeats.
“You can’t—” I choke into silence.
Okay. Let’s try again. “You can’t just—buy someone’s house.”
“Well, I can’t anymore,” he says reasonably. “Most of what I was sitting on is gone.”
“You can’t just buy someone’s house,” I say again, stronger now. “You can’t just—you can’t.”
I vaguely hear Tyler speak from further down the path; a muttered word of warning to Roman.
“I’d back up a bit, man.”
But Roman doesn’t. “A rental property was a solid investment,” he says calmly. “And I needed something to do with my money. Something good.” For the first time, grim regret spreads over his features. “It’s fine if you’re mad.”
“I know it’s fine,” I snap as my body burns. “And I am mad.”
“I figured you would be,” he says with a slow nod.
“Whether you stay or move out tomorrow, though, I’m going to keep renting this place.
It’s a smart move, especially with the way Lucky is growing.
There aren’t many apartment complexes in town yet, either.
” He pauses. “We’ll sign a new contract so you can have everything in writing and legally enforceable.
No rugs will be pulled out from under your feet.
” He shoots a brief glare at Tyler, even though I don’t think Tyler can hear him when Roman is speaking so softly.
But I’ve heard every word, and they’re all ringing in my skull, and none of this is what I wanted to say or hear or talk about.
“Take your time,” Roman says, his eyes still regretful. “I’ll be around.”
Then he turns away with a sigh and heads toward Tyler.
My head spins, and my thoughts tangle, and my feelings war with each other until they burst out of me.
“Are you coming to the auction tomorrow?”
I blurt the question abruptly. Harshly, even. My voice is full of everything simmering under my skin.
I’m angry, yes. But I know—I know—I’ll regret not asking.
Roman freezes, completely still, and turns slowly to look at me once more. There’s nothing in his eyes I can decipher.
Then he moves.
Closer, closer, swift steps like he’s been waiting for me to ask, until he reaches me, and the rise and fall of his chest are more noticeable than only moments ago. He leans down until again our faces are level.
“Why?” he says softly, cocking one brow at me. He doesn’t move, doesn’t step away, and I can once more feel his words in little puffs against my skin, smell the mint of his breath and his sharp, crisp scent. “Do you want me to come?”
My jaw glues itself shut, but I have a feeling my internal debate is written all over my face anyway.
“Ask,” Roman breathes when I remain silent. Challenge flashes in his gaze as he goes on. “If you want me to come, ask.”
From somewhere off to the side Tyler mutters something under his breath again, but I’m not paying enough attention to decipher what. The only thing I can focus on is the man in front of me—and there’s something poetic there about leaving the past behind, but it too escapes me at the moment.
Thought, attention, speech—they’re all frozen.
After a brief second of silence, Roman shrugs and straightens up, pulling his eyes away from mine.
“Suit yourself,” he says, and I know I’m not imagining the thread of disappointment I hear. He strides swiftly past me and down the walk toward Tyler. “You’re not on the schedule today.”
“It’s supposed to rain next week,” Tyler says, still looking back and forth between Roman and me.
Another shrug from Roman, little more than a twitch of his shoulders, and then he’s off again. He lifts one hand in a wave and calls back to us: “Play nicely, you two. I have security cameras installed.”
Tyler rolls his eyes while I gape at Roman’s disappearing form—no more than a moment later, he’s in his car, backing out of the driveway, and then he’s gone.
He’s gone, and I’m left staring at my past as it grimaces at me.
“You like him,” Tyler says. It’s not a question.
“So?” I say, looking back to the street where Roman’s car is now well out of sight.
But when I turn my eyes to Tyler again, I’m surprised to see a faint glimpse of the man I once knew—the man I really did love. His gaze has gentled, and he looks tired more than anything.
“So let yourself like him, Aurora,” he says, running one hand down his face. “Even if you’re angry right now. Be with him, if you want.” He pauses and then goes on. “Happiness doesn’t have to be a luxury.”
My breath catches in my chest and stays, builds, until well after Tyler has tromped around the side of the house and out of sight. When it finally explodes out of me, I pull my phone from the pocket of my leggings and dial.
“Roman,” I say breathlessly when he answers.
“Hmm?”
I inhale and then push the words out. “I’m mad at you.”
A beat of silence. “I know.”
“But—come to the auction. Please.”
Another silence, for so long I think he’s not going to answer, until—
“And after the auction, little vandal?” The words are deep, slow, and I swallow.
“Show up and find out for yourself.”