Page 129 of Romeo

Nobody seemed in much of a hurry.

Goodbyes were easier when you pretended they weren’t waiting at the end of every conversation.

Amber hugged the women first, stopping longer with some than others, sharing words I couldn’t hear before moving on. She did the same with the brothers, and for once nobody ruined a serious moment by turning it into some bullshit joke.

Even Jack managed to behave himself.

I stood near the edge of the group and watched.

Amber had become a friend somewhere along the way. A real one. She’d never been impressed by the Romeo bullshit, which probably had something to do with it. She called me out when I deserved it, laughed when I deserved that too, and never seemed particularly concerned with pretending either one of us was better than we were.

Now she was leaving with Massacre.

Good for her.

Still sucked for me.

When the last brother stepped away, Amber turned and found me.

I walked toward her.

A low growl came from somewhere behind her. I didn’t bother looking at the asshole. I raised one hand, gave him the finger over Amber’s shoulder, then pulled her into my arms.

She laughed against my chest.

“Gonna miss you, babe,” I said, tightening my arms around her for a second before letting her pull back.

“No, you won’t.” She sniffed and wiped beneath one eye. “You have someone who needs you more now.”

Fiona came to mind immediately.

The wording bothered me, though.

Fiona didn’t need me to save her. She’d survived before I knew she existed and built a life surrounded by people who loved her. If anything, the last few months had taught me how little she needed another man deciding what was best for her.

But she’d started making room for me.

That was something else entirely.

“She’s too young,” I said.

Amber gave me the same look she used whenever she thought I was full of shit. “She’s an adult.”

“Barely.”

“She’s an adult,” she repeated. “And you know it.”

I did.

Fiona’s age mattered because I needed to be careful with the difference between where we were in our lives. It mattered because she deserved the chance to figure out what she wanted without a man who was too fucking old for her deciding his certainty should become hers.

But I’d started using it for something else too.

An excuse to keep holding part of myself back even when she stepped closer.

“What if she’s not ready?” I asked.

Amber’s expression softened. “We never are.”