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Oh, crap. I realize that I actually referred to him as my husband. I don’t understand what is happening. It hurts my head to try to figure him out. I’ve noticed a lot of people want Roman’s attention. He doesn't seem excited about that. I started trying to cut people off and jump in for him, and now he’s asking me if I’m going to talk to everyone?

I finally find the bathroom a few moments later. I don’t actually need it, but I wanted a second by myself before I said something I’d regret. I already said too much. I sounded like a jealous wife. I suppose I am.

“Did you see Roman King is here? I didn't know he got married,” I hear a woman say as I stand in the stall. I hold my hand up admiring my wedding ring. It really is a beautiful ring.

“Have you seen his wife?” another asks. I bite down on my lip, knowing I’m not going to like whatever is about to be said next.

“He hasn't brought anyone to anything in a long time, but I never would have guessed chubby was his preference.”

“Right! Didn’t he date that supermodel?”

“Megan Grey.”

“Yep! So strange he would go to the opposite extreme this time.” They keep talking. I lean up against the bathroom door, pulling out my phone. I really shouldn't do this, but I do. I start Googling the name they mentioned. I know it’s pointless, but I can’t help but look.

The information I do find is at least five years old. Those women were right though. He dated tall, thin, beautiful blondes. The opposite of me in every way. Then he just kind of dropped off the scene, it seems.

I’d never thought about the possibility of him being with another woman while we were married. It’s not something we’d ever talked about before. That’s not saying much since we don’t talk much about anything. Especially lately. I huff out a breath before putting my phone away. I take a deep breath once I hear them leave and step out of the stall. Knowing I can’t hide in here forever, I wash my hands and check my reflection. Once I’m satisfied, I head for the door.

I step out of the bathroom, and Roman is on me in an instant. His hand wraps around my wrist. He starts walking, pulling me along with him. I almost have to run to keep up with him.

“We’re leaving.”

“Can you slow down? I have short legs. I’m not a runway model.” He slows down, finally giving me a curious look.

When we make it to the blacked-out SUV, Roland is there. He opens the back door for us. I slip inside. Roman stops and talks to Roland for a moment before he gets in, slamming the door shut behind him.

“You’re driving me crazy.”

I gape at him. Did he really have the audacity to say that I’m the one who’s driving him crazy? Anger bubbles up inside of me. I think it’s a culmination of everything that’s happened up until this point.

“I’m driving you crazy?” I hiss. He reaches for me. He picks me up as if I weigh nothing, putting me in his lap until I’m left straddling him. My hands go to his chest to try to balance myself. My body reacts instantly, knowing exactly what this man can do to it. Traitor. “What is your problem? First you avoid me and now I can’t get an inch away from you.” Did he always smell this good?

“I’m sorry.” He puts his hands over mine. “The past five days have been hell without you.”

I stare into his eyes, seeing the remorse there. He does look tired. “How do you think I felt? The first time I remotely do anything with a man and he storms off, leaving me all alone and making me think I did something wrong.” I was so confused. And if I’m being honest, I was hurt. I thought he and I were finally getting somewhere that day.

“What! You were perfect. You did nothing wrong,” he growls. His hands tighten their hold on mine. “When we were done and I looked up at you…” He stops for a moment as if the memory pains him in some way. “You had tears in your eyes. I took it too far. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me,” he pleads. “I’ve been so scared that I can’t control myself around you.”

This man wants me so badly he thinks he can’t control himself around me. He stayed away in fear of hurting me. I suppose I should maybe know that with the whole blackmail thing. It’s kinda sweet in a screwed-up way.

“Oh.” I tilt my head, my shyness getting to me. “Those were like happy emotional tears,” I try to explain.

There is no missing the shock on his face. It only lasts a moment. He grabs my face, pulling me in. His mouth claims mine in a wild, needy kiss. For the first time in days the knot in my stomach loosens. I relax into him.

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