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Not even me.
* * *
The next morning, as I passed through the gate at Malibu Colony, my heart raced. Was I going to see him again? Was there any way I could sound like a normal person if I got the chance to apologize to him? I snorted to myself. Not likely.
The security guard gave me a strange look before waving me through.
The first of many today, I was sure.
I’d purposely stayed off social media last night and this morning. Judging by the empty parking lot at my apartment complex, my identity was still hidden. Not that I was Wonder Woman or anything, but I was worried someone would out me. Maybe that was a sad example of my lack of a social life—that the chaos of being outed would be exciting. Lately it was work, writing, and Molly. I couldn’t remember my last man-induced orgasm.
And if that wasn’t the most depressing thing ever, I didn’t know what was.
I pulled into Roman Grier’s driveway and tried not to think about the many, many times I’d pictured him while I was alone, and…yeah. This wasn’t going to be awkward at all.
Who was I kidding? He wasn’t going to be here. I was probably just here for an NDA lecture and maybe to sign an updated contract since he came home early. Roman Grier definitely had better things to do than seeingme. Especially considering what was going on with his family.
My goal was to get in and out without embarrassing myself. Totally doable.
I’d almost talked myself out of my panic attack on his front step. Usually, I’d go around the side and use my code, but since he was home, that felt wrong. Instead, I rang the doorbell.
Imagine my surprise when a shirtless Roman Grier opened the door.
Humina, humina, humina.
“I thought Jeff gave you a code.” Roman Grier frowned down at me.
I had to clear my throat to get my voice to work. “He did, but I thought, since you are home, just walking in would be weird.”
I gestured vaguely, then had to grasp my hands behind my back because it felt over the top. Was I talking loud enough? It felt like I was whispering.
Roman Grier grunted in reply, then took a step back from the door. “Come on in.”
My eyes bulged as I watched him walk away from me. His back was a fricking work of art—all gleaming muscles like he’d been working out. I shook my head. Of course he was. It was eight in the morning. What else would the Sexiest Man Alive be doing?
I closed the door behind me and walked into the great room.
And on the other side of the room, through the open patio doors, I glimpsed another shirtless muscular man leading Roman Grier through a workout. Box jumps on his back deck overlooking the ocean. That was normal.
I couldn’t look away. First, the hunk with the buzz cut would jump up on the huge box, then Roman Grier would follow. Up down. Up down. And they were both making this guttural grunt each time.
Dear god, someone please save me.
Was I drooling? I had to be drooling.Look somewhere else, Soph. Don’t look like the thirsty fangirl you clearly are!
I swiped a quick hand over my chin that thankfully came away dry, when someone exclaimed loudly. “Sophia! You made it.”
I jumped and spun around to where Jeff was standing. “Hey. Yeah. Just got here.”
“All right. Come on through. We can catch up while we wait for Rome to finish.”
Rome. The name floated around my brain. There was no way in the world I’d be able to call him that. He was Roman Grier.
“You want something to drink?” Jeff asked as I leaned against the island.
“Oh. No. No, thanks.” Because with my luck I’d probably spill it all over myself or worse, Roman Grier. “I have a shift later at Morning Jolt. All the free coffee I can drink.”
“You haven’t had any problem with that?”
