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I continue along as though I’m unfazed by their presence. The hostess seats us, and Roman holds my chair out for me. I take one last look over at Eden and Sadie’s table and find all eyes on us.
“I think we made quite the entrance,” Roman says, settling into his chair across from me.
I laugh. “I think we could call it a night right now.”
Roman’s face falls. “No, we can’t leave without eating. I’m starving.” He opens the menu. “I need tacos.”
I place the green-paper napkin on my lap and open the menu. “I guess we can’t deny a man tacos.”
“Absolutely not. Tacos are the new pizza.”
“How do you figure?”
Roman smiles. “Well, think about it. Pizza used to be all the rave. You could get all these different toppings and hit every food group while eating one slice. Now you can do that with a taco, and want to know the best part?”
“No grease?”
He lowers his menu. “It’s like you can read my mind better than Ledger.”
“All that may be true, but pizza is so much better.”
His eyes blaze into mine. “Are you crazy? Tacos beat pizza every time.”
The server interrupts our debate and we order two margaritas. And two taco platters. We put on a bit of a show for the gossips watching us—leaning forward attentively, holding hands across the table—while we wait for our drinks. When our margaritas arrive, Roman lifts his glass in a silent “Cheers” over at Sadie and Eden, and they smile back.
I take a large swig of my margarita, hoping the tequila will calm my nerves. I’ve been out many times with Roman, but tonight feels different. I feel more alive.
As I sit across from Roman, I try to imagine what it would be like to be his for real. He stares at me like I am.
It’s overwhelming, and I take another gulp of my margarita. “Do you think they’re buying it?” I ask him.
His eyes never leave mine. “I’m not sure. Should I come over there and kiss you?” He starts to get up. “I mean, anything for the show.”
I laugh, but my heart races at the thought of him kissing me. “Sit down. We’re not kissing right here. That would look weirder if we did that.” I place my hand on the table and he covers it with his.
“You’re right. I guess I’ll just hold your hand.” Tingles race up my arm from the contact.
Why do I get this thrill every time he touches me? He’s touched me before in a platonic type of way, but now that we’re pretending it’s different.
“You’re meeting with Bane Delgado?” he asks, changing the subject.
I nod. “Yes.”
“And?” His hand tenses over mine.
“And what?”
“You’ll be alone with him in a room?”
I laugh lightly. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Roman Thorne is jealous. “At the jail, yes. We’ll be alone.”
“I don’t like that.”
“You know he’s engaged, right?”
Roman shrugs. “So?”
“Are you jealous?”
