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There was no way to win. Roman was attempting to open up, yet he wasn’t happy about it, and the few pieces of information he had shared had caused him to shut me out for the next several days. The cycle was exhausting and splitting me apart, because I didn’t know what to fight for anymore. It was like I was going against him in order to save him.
“Don’t do that,” he said in a low voice. I looked up at him.
“Do what?”
“That.” His gaze took in every angle of my face. “That look. Like you’re hurting.”
I was. But so was he. He just did a much better job of masking his emotions and burying the past than I did.
“God damn it,” he mumbled, and his hands clenched on the table. “I don’t know how to handle you, Amy. All I know is that you want something I don’t want to give. And when I offer a middle ground, it still doesn’t appear to be enough for you.”
“I just…” I just what? Was falling in love with him and had no idea if he reciprocated any real feelings for me? Wanted to know him, be myself with him, and have him be able to relax and be himself with me?
“I don’t want to be a complication. I don’t want you to have to ‘handle’ me.” The word tasted sour. “You obviously know what you don’t want. So why are you still with me? Is it just because of our deal?”
Black fire blazed behind his eyes, but I didn’t care. I had to know. Damn the rules.
“What I know is that I wake up in my bed and your scent is fading. You look at me like that”—he lifted his chin—“instead of with a smile. And I’ve been away from you more than inside of you.” Keeping his stare steady on mine, he clenched his jaw. “And that is a real problem.”
I folded my lips together and looked down because my entire body was stinging like it’d been freshly sunburned. Roman’s words alone sent a spiral of hope through me, and I wanted to cling to him.
In his own way, he was trying.
“Will you come stay with me this weekend?” he asked, his tone much softer now.
I wanted to scream yes at the thought of another wonderful weekend when we could just be. Between his busy schedule and campaign events, I was dying for some alone time with Roman. But unfortunately, I was prepping for a few rather stressful days.
“I can’t.”
He frowned. “Why not?”
“Because I’m leaving tomorrow and going to Indiana for the weekend.”
His eyes narrowed, and he was back to business Roman. “When were you planning on telling me?”
“I told Jean a week ago to make sure I wasn’t needed for campaign work.”
“But when were you going to tell me?” he said again.
“I guess I was going to tell you now.”
A hardness cut through his features. Since he clearly didn’t like my answer, I added, “I didn’t think this was something you’d have an interest in discussing since it didn’t affect you or your schedule. That’s why I just cleared everything with your office.”
“What you do and where you go is of great interest to me.”
His statement and the ironic look that accompanied it made me realize something: I was just as bad as he was. I hadn’t thought to include him or tell him the details of my life. The silence stretched on, making me colder. The realization of all the invisible lines between us that would never be crossed was suffocating.
“I like the blue one,” Roman said from behind me. I turned to face him, surprised that he was standing at my bedroom door. The man radiated so much power and presence, it took up all the space in my small room. “It matches your eyes.”
I glanced at the sweater in my hand. After he’d dropped me off last night, I hadn’t slept well. My flight left in a few hours and I was behind in packing.
“Hazel let me in. I hope you don’t mind.”
I shook my head. “Of course not.”
I tossed the sweater into my open suitcase on the bed, then faced Roman. He took two massive strides, effectively wedging himself into my space, and the crisp, masculine smell of him made me want to moan.
“Thank you for coming to say goodbye,” I said, my chest relaxing a little with the knowledge that he’d made an effort to see me off. With the way things ended last night—silence—I hadn’t known what to expect today.
