Page 28 of Teaching Roman

“Cassie,” Roman said her name in warning, but I waved him off. This was a matter of principle now. I’d agreed to a girls night and the only way out was through.

I groaned as I raised the shot glass to my lips. My hands trembled, my throat already constricting at the thought of another drop of liquor, but I forced myself to shoot it. Roman scooped the glass from my hands, setting it down just in time to catch me as I attempted to stand up from my barstool. I swayed on wobbly feet, but his grip was steady and he held me closely to him. I attempted to pull away, knowing despite the boozy haze that this was definitely not in our one-week plan. Nope, rescuing your drunk lover definitely fell into girlfriend/boyfriend territory. But my attempted autonomy had unforeseen consequences.

“I don’t feel so good.” Clutching my stomach, I choked back the tequila threatening to exit its point of entry.

“We should get her back.”

“Okay,” Cassie agreed. There was a firmness to Roman’s proclamation that not even she could question. She tossed down a stack of bills and led the way, pushing through the crowds of coeds enjoying the overcrowded tourist bar. Cassie had matched me shot for shot, but even with my head swimming and my eyes seeing double, I saw no sign that she was suffering the same ill effects of three hours of hard drinking. When we reached the street I expected to feel relief, but the fresh air made my stomach roll and twist. I bent, instinct telling me that tonight wasn’t going to end well.

“Just a couple of blocks.” Roman said soothingly, but it didn’t matter. The only thing that could comfort me was the thought of unconsciousness.

“And then I can die?” I slurred.

“You’re not dying,” Cassie said.

I think I said I seriously doubted that, but I couldn’t really tell what words were actually making it out of my mouth anymore. It was like trying to wake up from a coma. I could hear. I could think. But my body had gone rogue. It was out of my control, and I didn’t like it. Fighting the urge to collapse on the pavement, I made it back to the villa. At the door Roman lifted me in his arms and carried me to the bathroom. He either had the gift of prophecy or he’d experienced the joys of tequila before. As it turned out, being in his arms was very comforting. Unfortunately, I was about to upchuck all over him.

“Go away.” I shooed him toward the door, but the movement sent me over the edge and I lunged for the toilet.

“Like hell.” A soft hand swept the hair off my neck and held it back.

Here I was, praying to the porcelain god in front of Roman Markson—poet, professor, exceptional lover. If tonight didn’t kill me, my embarrassment tomorrow probably would. Thankfully, my body chose that moment to commit mutiny before I could dwell on that fact. When I sat back on my heels a few minutes later, tears swam in my eyes.

“Do you want to go into the bed?” His voice was soft with concern.

I shook my head. I was pretty sure there was a repeat performance of my recent stomach evacuation coming.

Roman laughed and dropped down beside me, leaning over to plant a kiss on the top of my head. Lines blurred around me, and not just the tile on the wall. This was not happening. Except I couldn’t really understand what was happening. Even in my booze saturated brain I knew the fundamentals—who, what, when, where. The why was what eluded me. Roman with his sinfully good looks could be out with any woman tonight or, at least, be enjoying an uneventful night back home. Instead he was hanging out on the bathroom floor with my drunk ass. Or I was imagining things.

I needed something concrete to anchor me, so I rested my head on the cabinet next to me. The wood felt cool and welcome on my feverish skin. “Since I’m dying I can tell you that I have liked you forever.”

Had I actually said that? Roman’s grin told me that it had come out of my mouth.

“Would it jeopardize your view of my professionalism if I said the same?”

I nodded. “I was your student.”

Why the hell had I said that? Damn Cassie and her tequila. It was like she’d force-fed me truth serum. I couldn’t keep all the stupid thoughts in my head from tumbling out.

“You were,” he said, “but I’m just a student, too, remember? And you aren’t in my classes.”

“Anymore.” There were those blurred lines again. He was a Ph.D. student, but he was also an instructor. I hadn’t memorized the student code of conduct, but I was pretty sure we’d broken a few of the university’s rules already. Jess would have cared about that, but Jessica Stone was drunk. Jessica didn’t care about the rules. Jessica was in Mexico, but now Jess was about to throw up again.

When Roman finally carried me to bed, the world around me was spinning. But even as I squeezed my eyes shut and willed it to stop, one thing was clear. Roman wasn’t going anywhere. Thankfully I was too drunk for that fact to seep in as he climbed into bed beside me.

Tomorrow I wouldn’t be drunk, but I had a feeling I’d still be confused.