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“You don’t need to come with me,” I said. “You have guests and—”
“I want to make sure you get home safely.”
He opened the car door for me. I felt bad that he was leaving his party because of me. Some of his reasons probably had to do with the other night. He seemed legitimately worried about me, an idea that made my heart do weird flips, but I wasn’t interested in chasing that feeling if it meant being an imposition on Roman.
“It’s not something you need to witness. I’m not going to tuck and roll out of a moving vehicle. I’ll be fine.”
“I want to ensure that,” he said, the look on his face daring me to challenge him further.
I swallowed hard and got in. He came around the other side to join me. The privacy glass was up. The leather seat was cool against my thighs as we made the short trek from Albany to Arbor Hill.
My whole body buzzed with tension. It had been another stressful day of crazy emotions and adrenaline, and I was coming down so hard I could barely keep my footing. It was enough to drive a girl insane.
“Still feeling anxious?” he asked, glancing at my slightly twitching knee.
“Yes. But not because of earlier.”
“Then why?”
I waited until his eyes landed, and stayed, on my face. For a moment I simply watched him, wondering if I could extract anything from of his expression. Read him somehow and know what to do, what to say. There was a sophisticated way to play this game, I was sure of it. The problem was, I was neither sophisticated nor interested in games. I wanted the real Roman. Not the politician, the man.
“I want you,” I said honestly, voicing my inner thoughts. “All the time. Even when I’m angry at you. Even right now.”
Each word came out softer than the last, until I almost looked away in mortification. But it was the truth. Perhaps I’d been blunt, but whatever hold Roman had over me wasn’t lessening, or even becoming more understandable.
“I feel like I’m in a constant battle with myself, and I never know what you’re thinking or what to do. It’s…” I let out a loud breath, “confusing.”
His jaw shifted enough to show that he’d clenched his teeth, once again refraining from saying something.
“Can you just speak? Say whatever it is going through your mind right now?”
“No,” he said.
“You’re always thinking through your words. I can tell. I can see it on your face. Can’t you just say what you want? No one is listening but me.”
“It’s wise to think before speaking.”
“Even if it’s the truth?” I said.
“Especially if it’s the truth.”
My heart sank a little. “Why?”
His throat bobbed, as if he were swallowing a bit of resolve. “Because the truth is a dangerous thing to admit.”
“Yet you’ve given me some.”
He nodded. “And so have you.”
The mutual acknowledgment somehow made me feel a little better. Like we were on some kind of track in the right direction. While Roman kept many things to himself, he did offer up some details, share some thoughts with me. Yes, I wanted to know him better, wanted him to let me in, but it had to start somewhere. A simple foundation from which we could build.
“I want you,” I whispered again. Whatever he’d allow, that was what I wanted. A starting point. “Please, say something to that.”
“‘Want’ doesn’t describe it, sweetheart.”
The edge in his voice cut through all my pent up emotions from the last four days. My skin zinged to life. My fingertips ached to touch him, and my mouth watered for a single taste of his skin.
Without further thought, I gave into instinct.
