Page 67 of Heartbreaker

“She drives me up a wall,” she grumbles, and I twine her fingers with mine.

“She’s fun. I like her.”

“That’s the problem,” Lana says with a sigh. “She likes you too, and the two of you together are a disaster.” I laugh, then shake my head before leading her down the hall. After a moment, I stop short, then pat my chest as if I’d forgotten something. It’s a planned reaction, but Lana doesn’t know that.

“Shit, I forgot something in my room. We have to go get it.” Lana looks at me skeptically as I guide her in the opposite direction from my hotel room.

“We don’t have time to fuck, Roman.” I waggle my eyebrows. There’s something about Lana that makes me feel endlessly playful in a way that’s both new and comforting. In the past, if I were playful and goofy, I was often made to feel stupid or childish, or told I should grow up and be more mature.

In contrast, Lana has never once made me feel silly for being myself, which is why I find myself doing it more often.

“Roman,” she chides, and I can’t help but falter, tugging her into me and pressing my lips to hers.

“When you say my name like that, it makes me hard.” She rolls her eyes, but she gives into the kiss, not nearly as annoyed as she’s trying to make herself seem.

“We don’t have time, Rome,” she murmurs, and for a moment, I regret not making time. “Don’t we have to get going to make it by three?” I sigh with disappointment.

“Yeah. We’re not going to do anything in my room, though. I really just need to grab something. If I need to fuck you that badly, there are a million places at the track we could find.” Her eyes go wide, and she gasps, slapping at my chest.

“Roman!”

I grin, then step away, grabbing her hand once more. “Come on, heartbreaker,” I say, leading her to my room. My heart pounds as I move toward the door, fighting not to bite my lip nervously. I swipe my keycard to unlock the door, then pull her inside, stopping at the entrance, my surprise sitting in a place of pride on the small table.

It took two days to find and one more to get here, and I’ve been eager to give it to her since then. The perk of Lana getting ready with Demi today was that I could set up this bit of chaos. But as she stares at it, dumbfounded, I wonder if maybe this was a bit stupid.

“What is this?” she asks softly, taking one step closer and inspecting the white and red item skeptically, as if she isn’t sure whether an illusion.

“It’s yours,” I explain simply, stepping back and watching her take it in. Slowly, as if she’s afraid it will disappear if she moves too quickly, she reaches out to grab a small animal in one of the rooms.

“Is this a Calico Critters house?”

“Yeah,” I say, grinning wide. “It’s yours. I know it’s not the huge, impressive one, but I wanted to make it somewhat reasonable for you to travel around with it.”

“You got me a Calico Critter house,” she murmurs, more a question than a statement, as she squats to look inside. It came with a few small pieces of furniture and a little rabbit in a dress, though I couldn’t resist getting a couple of extras—a squirrel and a giraffe sit upstairs, as if waiting for her arrival to bring them to life. She looks at them, gently touching the squirrel’s head, then looks at me.

“I didn’t get it for me,” I say.

“Why did you do this?”

“You said you always wanted one,” I said with a shrug. For a moment, I worried this was stupid and wrong, but the look of awe on her face confirms that it was a good idea, that this might have been my best idea. Her face goes soft, then a bit pensive, before she speaks.

“But I’m an adult. I don’t need a Calico Critter house, Roman.” She says it gently, as if giving out information she thinks I don’t have just yet.

“I know. But when you were little, you wanted it. And a part of you still does.” I step forward, and she stands, letting me pull her into my arms. “A part of you still wants it, is still the little girl who was too embarrassed to ask for a Calico Critter house. So I made it so you didn’t have to ask.”

“Rome,” she whispers, her voice tight with unshed tears that both warm me and tighten my chest. It’s strange when Lana cries: it’s both an honor and something I desperately want to fix. I won’t ever tell her that, but I love these tears—the small, vulnerable moments she’s usually ashamed of.

They’ve been a source of embarrassment for so long, and now she’s comfortable enough to share them with me.

“I want to take care of all the sides of you. This is for the little girl version who pretended like she didn’t want girl things.”

“Rome,” she repeats, her voice cracking as a tear slides down her cheek. She shakes her head, but I press my lips to the tear, stopping it in its tracks before it gets too far. “My god, I can’t believe I’m crying again.” I shake my head.

“Do you like it?” I ask.

“You know, for someone who said he’s never been a boyfriend, you’re really freaking good at this,” she says with a sniff, and I grin wide.

“Yeah?”