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A shutter moved down over Rome's eyes and he shook his head slightly, turning his attention to Paine. "I hope you end up deserving her."
"If I don't, you'll be there for her. That's big of you."
Rome visibly shrank away from the praise of a man he knew was having sex with the woman he loved, but nodded tightly. "She's worth it," he said, turning to move out toward the dining room.
I moved to follow him, but Paine's arm tightened and held me in place. "Rome," I called, but the front door clicked closed and I knew he wasn't coming back. Not anytime soon anyway. Alone, I wrenched away from Paine, shoving him hard in the chest as I turned. "That was not necessary!" I screeched, my voice shrill, as close to a yell as it had ever gotten during an argument.
"Babygirl, it was," Paine said, voice calm, moving toward me.
"No, it wasn't. He had just admitted he loved me since we were sixteen and that he knew it was time to let go and you came in here acting all alpha-dog claiming his fucking beta. That was really shitty of you," I seethed, backing up as he kept advancing.
"Baby..."
"Don't 'baby' me. Pet names don't erase that you just..." my voice hitched and I shut my mouth to keep it from becoming a full-on sob.
"Hey," he said, his voice suddenly soft as I backed up into the counter and he came up in front of me. His hand raised and his fingers brushed the first tear off my cheek. I ducked my head only to find myself crushed up against his chest, his arms wrapping me up tight. And, well, something about being held opened up the floodgates. "It's gonna be okay," he said softly, the arm around my upper back loosening slightly so he could reach up, pull my hair tie out and run his fingers through my hair.
"He's... not going to... want to be around me," I sobbed into his shirt.
"Stop. You know that's not true. He loves you. He might need a little more distance than you're used to, but he won't go anywhere."
"You don't know that."
"I know you."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, doing an oh-so-attractive sniffle.
"I don't know you one-tenth the way he does and I know a man would be out of his mind to stop hanging around you just 'cause you don't want to fuck him."
"Don't be crass."
"Just honest."
I pulled against his hold slightly and he loosened enough so I could swipe at my cheeks. "I still think it was shitty of you to do that," I reminded him, not willing to let it go.
"You gotta remember something, babygirl. Men and women, we communicate differently. You guys like to choose your words and pussyfoot around the issue so as to not cause any conflict. Men don't do that shit. In fact, if we can get our point across with a look or gesture instead of words, we will. You don't get it, but Roman did."
"He got what?"
"That you're mine. And what's mine is mine and he better the fuck not cross any lines with you from here on out."
I'm pretty sure my entire body froze at that, including my heart. It just stopped dead in my chest for a second. "Yours?" I choked out after several awkwardly silent seconds.
"Yeah, mine," he said with a squeeze of the arm around my hips.
"I'm... yours?"
"You been paying attention, baby? It was you I fucked in your bed, right? And it was you who met my friends and my mother. And I'm pretty fucking sure it was you who I've been leaving notes to every morning. And I'm almost damn positive it was you I fucked raw in your kitchen last night. Know you don't know me that way, Elsie, but that's a big fucking deal for me. I don't do that. I don't lead women on if I plan on getting shot of them. And I never, as in ever, fuck a woman without protection. So you and me, we have something going on here."
"Okay," I said, ignoring the way my stomach was swarming with happy little butterflies, because I knew that for my peace of mind, I needed actual clarification. "But... what does that mean? What does 'something going on here' mean exactly?"
"I'm sure it's pretty clear by now that I've never been a relationship guy."
"It's come up," I agreed, lips tipping up slightly.
"So this is all new to me. I don't know what you're looking for here. You need assurances? I have none of those. You want labels? You're mine. Call it what you want: girlfriend, partner, main squeeze. I don't give a fuck. It all means the same thing: mine."
"So, as it stands, this," I said, waving a hand between our bodies, "is a relationship? It's exclusive and..."
