“Treat her right, and we won’t have a problem.” He stands and wipes still-trembling hands down his jeans. “And get rid of that fucking line, Roman. You’re in too deep now to stay on the other side of it for much longer.”
I nod just once, feeling the weight of that promise sink down onto me pound by pound.
40
BRIELLE
The spare keyis in the lemon planter. Keep it. I want you waiting for me in my bed when I get home.
Those were the last words I heard from Roman before his game started.
Not only had he given me permission to go to his house without him, but he also offered me a way to do it again. Over and over if I wanted to.
My grin is completely out of control as I blindly reach into the planter and dig around for the key. The cool, jagged edge catches my finger before I pull it out and hold it in front of my face. It’s too small to mean so much. But yeah, there’s no denying what keeping it represents.
Two months.
That’s how long we’ve been running these circles around each other. It’s a drop in the bucket compared to how long he’s lived, yet he’s so sure about this. About me. How am I supposed to question that?
All our talk of hypothetical weddings hasn’t spooked me any more than his offer to keep this spare house key has.
What should have had me taking several steps back has drawn me closer to him instead, like his acceptance was the lastand only thing keeping us from taking these gigantic leaps. All of it feels right.
I’m not scared. Not intimidated or nervous.
And I know that’s because of him. The man who hides behind cold walls of caution because once he lets you in, you’re there for life. There’s a finality to him that gives me the confidence to decide that I want to stay.
That’s . . . just about the craziest thing I’ve ever done. And I’m terrified that this bubble is going to pop.
I snap up from my crouch and slip the key into the lock. It clicks open, and I give the door a gentle push.
Evie’s not home this early, which means it’s really just me here. Alone. In the home where Roman raised his niece over the last five years, all by himself.
I’ve avoided snooping too much, not out of fear but nervousness that I’d overstep. The memories of Lena are tucked away from prying eyes, and I can’t help but wonder how Evie feels about that. Is it because of her that there are no photos of her mother on the walls, or was that Roman’s decision?
There’s a voice in my head that tells me not to go looking. He clearly trusts me enough to leave me here unaccompanied. Would I be betraying him for looking for something—anything—related to his sister?
I’ve been patient. I don’t push or prod him into telling me what happened to her. There are pieces of each of us that we don’t want to share with anyone. The softest, most sensitive spots in our hearts that grow inflamed with the slightest brush of a finger.
I don’t want to hurt him. Ever.
But didn’t he consider for even half a second that giving me free rein in his home would make me curious? Did he decide that he was okay with me looking around and think that this house key was enough for me to know that?
“Just one photo,” I tell myself as I slip out of my wedges and drop my overnight bag to the bench by the door.
I refuse to spend another night here without the proper supplies, so I may have brought enough of them to fill a drawer or two.
The hardwood floors gleam under the sunlight beaming in through the front window. I watch my shadow pass over the planks and carry through the living room. Beneath the TV on the wall rests a built-in, three-shelf-high entertainment system. On either side of the open shelves are two closed cabinet doors, both of which I’ve never seen him or Evie open.
It’s a long shot, but I lower myself to my knees in front of it and lightly tug the left, black doorknob. Camera gear sits on the shelves. It’s the same story on the right side.
Disappointment flickers through me for a brief moment before I force myself off the ground and shake it away. It’s for the best that there was nothing there.
I rush out of the room and snag my bag before making my way down the hall. Roman’s bedroom door is open already when I plow through the threshold and blow out a ragged breath. Running a hand over the top of my head, I gather my thoughts and will the guilt for snooping to vanish.
Instead of diving into the bed that I’m pretty sure is made out of pure feathers, I shove my hand into my bag and find my phone. The latest score for the game is on the screen, along with the notification that says Kellan hit a grand slam. I beam at the screen before feeling it dim a second later.
The two missed calls from my mom sit there like a haunting reminder of the events of the other night. I’ve worked hard to forget what happened, and that includes ignoring her calls and my brother’s right alongside them.
