Page 357

I fold over the counter.

I can't breathe.

This is so much better than I imagined.

“So the woman—” I manage.

“Kept asking if he was okay.”

“Because she thought I’d burned myself,” Roman snaps. “Which I did.”

Beck nods solemnly. “She was very concerned about his hot lips.”

Roman pushes away from the counter. “I'm done.”

I grab his shirt before he can escape. “Wait. Did she call you Hot Lips?”

“No. Just that asshole.” He shoots Beck a withering glare.

“Someone had to.”

Roman looks toward the ceiling like he's asking a God he probably doesn't believe in for patience.

“Six years,” I whisper.

“Six fucking years,” he mutters.

I smile.

“Hot Lips.”

His gaze drops to mine.

“Don't start.”

Too late.

Way, way too late.

Roman shuts the door behind Beck.

I stay where I am, a devilish smile on my lips.

He turns around. “Don't.”

I smile.

“Callie.”

“What?”

“I know that look.”

“What look?”

“The one you get right before you become a pain in my ass.”

I stand, then walk toward him. “I'm offended.”