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And why is that, Roman?
Oh, because she wasn’t Peyton.
Well, shit.
She goes thoughtful for a moment. “Do you...think they’d like me?”
“Yeah, of course.” I lightly nudge her on the chin. “I told you that already.”
“Yeah, I know, but I’m probably not the kind of girl they’d like to see you with.”
I stare at her long and hard. “Why would you say that?”
She rolls her eyes. “Come on, Roman. I hardly come from the right background.”
“Why would you think that matters?”
“Are you seriously asking me that?”
“You think pedigree matters to my family?”
“Oh, it matters, Roman. When you’re on my side of the tracks, it matters. I’m judged all the time. You have no idea what that’s like.”
Her words pierce my skin and I stand abruptly. “Is that what you think?” Jesus Christ, I’m judged all the time, too. I’m judged because I was born with a silver spoon, she’s judged because she wasn’t.
“No, I don’t mean that.” She squeezes her eyes shut, hurts from her childhood written all over her face. “Things aren’t coming out right.” Her glassy eyes meet mine. “If that came out as an insult, I didn’t mean it. I think you’re a really great guy.”
“You won’t for long.” She gasps when I pick her up and carry her back to bed. “You’re staying here for the rest of the day.”
She wiggles and tries to protest as I cover her. “I don’t feel right about this, Roman.”
“Stop,” I say, and pin her down. Her breath catches and I grin. “Oh, do you hate me restraining you right now?”
“Yes, you’re such a bully.”
I laugh at that. “Yeah, I am, aren’t I?” I brush her hair from her forehead, everything in me softening. “I want to take care of you, okay?”
“Roman—”
A growl rumbles in my throat. “It’s okay, Peyton. It’s okay to let someone else help.” I dip my head and cup her face. “I’m not going to hurt you. I promise. Can you trust me on that?”
She swallows and water fills her eyes as she glances away. My heart nearly shatters. This sweet girl hasn’t been able to count on anyone but her brother, for fear of being cast away like she was nothing more than yesterday’s newspaper.
Goddammit, I want to be the person she can count on.
“Yes,” she says.
“Good. I’m going to the school today. End of discussion.”
“Bully,” she murmurs under her breath.
“What’s that?” I ask, a warning in my tone.
“Nothing.” She pulls the blanket over her head and whispers, “Bully.” Her chuckle wraps around me and I shake my head. This girl is killing me.
“You’re going to pay for that.”
“I know,” she mumbles, more chuckles.
