Page 183 of When a Soul Cries

There.

I said it.

Only to myself, but still.

I liked his presence in the house. I liked our little conversations in the kitchen after Halo fell asleep. I liked the way he could make me laugh when I was determined not to. I even liked the way he got on my nerves.

And that was dangerous.

Because Halo wasn't the only one getting used to Roman Devereaux.

I was too.

Then he had bought me clothes.

That one had almost broken me.

The second morning here, he disappeared for a few hours. When he came back, he carried several shopping bags upstairs and placed them inside the guest room.

I thought they were more things for Halo.

They weren’t.

I stood beside the bed going through them one at a time.

Jeans.

Leggings.

T-shirts.

A few tops that were nicer than anything I would’ve picked up while just trying to survive.

Pajamas.

Socks.

Underwear.

Bras.

Slides.

Sneakers.

Nothing extravagant. Nothing covered in designer logos.

Just things I needed.

Another bag held shampoo, conditioner, body wash, deodorant, lotion, toothbrushes, toothpaste, feminine products, and a few things for my hair.

I stared at the bags until my vision blurred.

“Rome.”

He had been standing in the doorway with one shoulder against the frame.

“What?”