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Roman stood in the doorway holding two paper cups of coffee. He was in dark jeans and a black wool coat, looking tailored and casual all at the same time. Could the man ever not look hot?
“Hi,” I said, a little shocked.
His eyes raked over me, the one look leaving me warmer than my recent shower. Hazel smiled at him, then at me, obviously happy to be witnessing this awkward exchange of silence.
“I stopped by to see if you’d like to go for a walk with me?” He held up his hands, “I brought coffee.”
I let out a breath, one I’d been holding for the past two days and hadn’t realized it.
“That’d be nice.” I looked down at myself. “Let me just put on some jeans and get my coat.”
“No, I can wait until you dry your hair.”
“It’s okay. I can just throw it up in a ponytail.”
“I insist that you dry your hair,” he said.
I stopped and looked at him. “Why?”
“It’s really cold outside and wet hair can get you sick.”
I swear I heard Hazel sigh, the way she did when she watched chick flicks, and clap her hands a little.
“That’s so thoughtful,” Hazel said. “Would you like to sit down, Governor?”
He unleashed one of those “I belong on the cover of Forbes” smiles, and Hazel got a little giddy.
“Thank you so much, and please call me Roman.”
Did Hazel just flip her hair and giggle? Once again, the Roman Reese charm was in full effect.
“You sure you don’t mind waiting?” I asked.
He sat on the couch and put the coffees on the end table. “For you? Not at all.”
He smiled at me, and now I wanted to giggle. The law should require him to register that charm as a weapon.
There was so much to talk about, so much I wanted to say, but between Hazel and my frazzled nerves—I mean, Roman was actually sitting in my living room—I was a bit too frantic for small talk.
He’d entered my apartment when, a few weeks ago, he made a big deal about not doing so. I was learning quickly that Roman needed time to process, just like I did. Did I wish he’d gotten in touch at least once over the past few days? Yes. But this was progress, right? He was here. Taking literal steps toward me and my small little world in Arbor Hill.
I hopped into jeans and made quick work of my hair, blow-drying it, then plating it into a simple braid. Topped off with a warm hat, coat, and scarf, I was ready.
Emerging from my room, I found Hazel and Roman chatting. She was smiling and Roman was as sweet as ever. His thick voice carried though our tiny apartment and made everything feel more…full.
I liked having him here. A certain hope and relief spread through me. He’d actually come. I hadn’t had to go to him this time. He’d ventured into enemy territory to see me.
“I’m ready.” I smiled and he rose. He handed me the coffee he’d brought for me and opened the front door.
“It was very nice to meet you, Hazel.”
“You too, Roman. Come back anytime.”
He glanced at me and, with a smoldering heat, said, “I just might do that.”
Tingles bloomed in my stomach. Like a small step had just been taken. And it had been a step initiated by Roman—toward me.
With his coffee in one hand, Roman clasped mine in the other, our fingers entwining, and walked us toward the nearby park. The sidewalk was slick with last night’s rain and only a few people lined the street.
