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“Get some rest, Peyton.”
I’m about to leave the room when she flings the covers off. “Roman.”
I hover in the doorway. “Yeah?”
“Who are you going to see soon?” She flips her hands over, palms up. “It’s not my business and you can tell me that. It’s just when I walked onto the rooftop, I overheard you.” Her eyes blink rapidly, and one thing I’ve come to learn about her is when she’s upset about something, she rambles on. Anoth
er thing we have in common. “If you have someone here you want to see, some girlfriend or something—”
“It was Lucy,” I say.
The apprehension on her face morphs into a smile. “Oh, your sister.” Relief visible, she adds, “Easy-Bake Oven.”
I laugh at that. “Yeah, she’s the one, and I think I’m going to call her that from now on.” I step back into the room. “She’s pregnant. She wanted me to be the first to know.”
Peyton closes one hand over her heart. “That is so nice.”
“She wants to see me.”
She smiles up at me, a longing on her face. “You should go see her.”
“Yeah, I think I will.” Before I can stop myself, I blurt out. “Will you come?”
What the ever-loving hell am I doing?
“I...” She grips her blankets, squeezes them in her hand. Her expression is troubled when she says, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Her words hit like a punch to the gut. Not good, Roman. Not good at all. Nothing good can come from introducing her to the family. I’d have to lie and tell them we were married, or let them in on the charade—they wouldn’t be happy about that, and the fewer people who know, the better. Despite all that, I still want my family to meet her, and that’s all kinds of messed up.
“Maybe I won’t go.”
“It’s okay if you do,” she says, smiling up at me, but the sadness on her face tears at my heart.
“I’ll think about it.” I’m about to step away but turn back and say, “Jealousy looks good on you, by the way.”
Her eyes widen and her mouth falls open. “Excuse me?”
“When you thought I was talking to a girlfriend or something...”
“I was not jealous. I was curious. I’m very curious by nature, in case you didn’t know.” She folds her arms and lifts her chin an inch. “I was being nice, Roman.”
“I like when you’re nice,” I say, and let my gaze drop to her mouth. The energy in the room changes, vibrates with the heat between us. “For the record I like when you’re not nice, too.” That remark gets me a pillow across the face.
I laugh and walk back to her. “That’s quite a throw you have there. Little League?”
“The end of the school year fair is coming up. There’ll be a dunk tank. I signed you up for it.” She lifts her arms and flexes. “I’ve been warming up my pitching arm.”
My God, she is so adorable. “Do you hate me, Peyton?”
“Yes,” she says with a grin.
“Let’s just hope all the evil little humans in the classroom don’t feel the same way, otherwise they’ll eat me alive.”
She grabs my arm. “Roman.”
“Yeah.”
“They’re going to love you.”
