“You’re not hurt?” His voice is brittle, too close to breaking.
“No.”
“Not physically.”
“Yes.”
He nods once and keeps me held there against him. I breathe in his cologne and let it flow through me, settling some of my rawest nerves.
“There’s a camera, Roman,” I whisper.
“I’m aware. I watched you flip it off.”
“Are you turned off by my immaturity yet?”
His nostrils flare. “No. But I need you to tell me why you did it in the first place and if that’s the same reason you called Aubrey.”
“She sent you,” I state, letting that register.
“I didn’t give her a choice.”
The hurt in my chest numbs. “You like me.”
“Wasn’t that always your plan?”
“It was a hope. I wasn’t sure it would turn out, considering how rude you were to me,” I say, somehow smiling.
Roman sighs heavily, beginning to massage my scalp. The shift in his body language is slow but obvious. Whatever it was that had driven him to the point of physically searching me for injuries has started to pass.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” he encourages, his voice uncharacteristically soft.
I try to look away, ashamed of what I’m about to say, before he brings my face back to his.
“Well, for starters, the party was a disaster. I smashed Wes’ cake into my dad’s face when I learned he’s been cheating on my mom. For a while. I didn’t know about it. Wes kept it a secret, and now I don’t know what to do. I feel like an idiot for ever trying to get him to come here, let alone be around our father so often. All I did was make everything worse.”
“You didn’t know. How were you supposed to do anything differently?”
I rest my forehead to his temple and exhale. “I don’t know.”
“Why didn’t you call me?” he asks, still holding me tightly, like he doesn’t trust that I’ll stay right here in his arms if he released me.
I tip my head back and meet his intense gaze. “You’ve never said you wanted to be the person I called when I needed help.”
“That’s my mistake.”
“Just tell me that you want to be my first call, Roman. Say it out loud instead of making me put it together myself.”
“I want to be more than your first call, sweetheart. And that’s . . . there are consequences that come with that.”
“Like my brother?”
His eyes flick behind me quickly before returning. “Yes, like Wesley. I knew what I was doing when I got into my car, but you need to choose what we do next. It’s your family and your friends that are going to be impacted the most.”
“That’s not true. Your career matters, too. They can’t fire you for this, can they?” I ask, panic beginning to buzz in my ears. “Fuck—maybe they could. I avoid social media like the plague, but I’m sure you’re obligated to care about that sort of thing. Not to mention the team and their reaction. It’s one thing for Wes to be mad at me, but what about your players? I like to think that they’re mature enough not to care who you’re dating, but what if they aren’t? Oh, God. Aubrey mentioned this, but I didn’t listen. What if Finn’s pissed because he’s like my brother’s lost limb?”
“Aubrey knows?” he asks.
I glare. “That’s all you picked up from that?”
