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“So, where are you gonna be tonight, Mila?” he asks.
I duck from under his arm and pull away. I turn, walking backward, watching his brow rise at the move.
“Home alone.”
He cocks his head.
“Not alone?” I ask.
He chuckles. “I will see you there.”
At lunch, I meet Roman outside where he’s been every day this week. Jace and Hunter sit with the other footballer players. They don’t ask me to sit with them or come out to sit with us. It’s like they know Roman needs his space, and he needs it with me. Like this is our private time, and I love it.
“Hey, what ya doing?” I ask as I pull up my ass beside his. I keep a small space between us, as I know he doesn't like me touching him. And I don’t want to accidently touch him if I’m too close.
“Thinking,” he replies, looking up at the blue sky, squinting at the sunlight.
His hair drapes over his eyes and face as he turns to look at me. I smile, and the corner of his lip lifts. He pushes his hair back, and it falls down again.
I laugh. “Can I braid your hair?” I ask.
I’ve wanted to do it all week. He has an undercut that's super short, but he keeps it long on top. I want to give him Viking braids. I think that would look hot on him. Plus, he has the cheekbones and jawline to pull that off. He has some blond stubble on his jaw today, like he didn’t shave this morning. I really want to run my finger along his skin and feel the short bristles, but I don’t.
“No,” he says in a monotone voice, but he doesn't take his eyes from me.
“Please? It will help you play tonight if your hair isn't in your face.”
“I tie it up for the game.”
I let out a huff and take a bite of my sandwich. I don't speak, just sit here quietly while he eats beside me. I can feel him looking at me, but I don't acknowledge it. I pretend to ignore him and take a sip of Coke.
“How does this braid work?” he asks, and I try hide my smile, but I can’t. I’ve found that when he says no, I just need to wait. He’ll change his mind.
“Well, I brought hair ties, so I can do three, and they'll look really cool.” He appears skeptical, and I chuckle. “I promise they'll make you look cool.”
He mutters under his breath, “I'm already cool.”
And I burst out laughing.
I love moments like this with Roman. I like that he's letting me in a little. That he trusts me enough to talk to me. We’re still far from what we used to be, but slow steps are better than none. What’s that saying? Slow and steady wins the race. I’m going with that plan of attack with Roman.
“So, I can give you braids?”
He grunts and nods.
I’d been hoping he would say yes. I have a comb, spray bottle with water, hairspray, and hair ties in a bag sitting beside me. When I start to pull the items out, I hear him chuckle just a little to himself. Like he knew I was gonna get my way no matter what. The sound of his chuckle makes me feel like I’m floating on cloud nine.
I stand up behind him, and he stiffens. “I'm only gonna touch your hair,” I whisper, and I see the tension leave his shoulders. I start running the comb through his tangles and I snicker. “How often do you brush your hair?”
He shrugs.
It's not too bad, but there are enough knots in there to make me think he only brushes it once a month. He grunts as I comb out all the tangles and knots.
I separate it into three parts, and I hum to myself. “Can you hold this?” When I place the comb in front of his face, he reaches up and takes it.
“Thanks.” I grab my spray bottle and wet his hair, making it damp and easy to braid. When I do mine, this is the easiest way.
I start with the first section in the middle, and it comes out perfect. “Yes, looking awesome,” I say more to myself then to Roman as I dance a little on the spot.
