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“Right, what’s not to love?” I joke. She rolls her eyes hard enough to give me a headache and I chuckle, despite the windstorm sweeping through my gut. The one person I want to love me doesn’t. We’re playing a game, having sex and having fun, but when push comes to shove, she’s built a wall around her heart—something else we have in common—and her brother would disown us both if he ever found out. How could we ever be together after this?
More importantly, how could we ever be apart?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Peyton
THE WARM SUN seeps in through the crack in the curtains and falls over my body, stirring me awake. My lids open and it takes me a second to remember where I am. My entire body tingles, my stomach full of butterflies, as I remember my morning conversation with Roman and that adorable smirk that crossed his face before he left me to sleep. When he teased me, saying he likes me nice and not so nice, his expression was filled with pure adoration and playfulness. Honestly, I love the way he looks at me. Roman Bianchi is so sweet, funny and playful—completely sensitive to my needs—how is a girl not supposed to fall for him?
Oh boy.
I can’t go there. No way, no how can I go and fall for a guy who is completely off relationships. I’m off them, too, but that still doesn’t change the fact that I’m crazy about Roman, always have been, and nothing good can come from that.
I push my blankets off and pad to the bathroom. I reach for the light, only to realize it’s on. It’s been on since Roman put me to bed last night, leaving the light on and the door cracked. My heart thumps a little harder in my chest and my throat is a gritty mess when I swallow.
God, where is my self-preservation when I need it most?
I step into the bathroom and gasp at my reflection in the mirror. Holy, I’m surprised the man didn’t run back to New York. I cringe at the dark smudges under my eyes, and at the mess of hair on my head that would make Carrot Top look like a fashion model. I hurry into a warm shower and wash the remnants of the flu, or whatever this bug was, away. I can’t for one second think Richard or his wife would stoop so low to put something in a cupcake to knock me on my ass—or rather the commode. We’re adults, not devious children, right? I’ve dealt with enough of them in my childhood, and thought adulthood would be different. Maybe I’m wrong. Roman seems to think so.
Once clean, I dress and head downstairs to find a loaf of bread and a mug with a tea bag in it on the countertop. I pick up the note he left, and my throat tightens as I read his perfect penmanship.
Try to eat something and text if you need me. See you soon. I’ll make us dinner, but it might not be edible!
A strange ache, deep in my chest, right around the vicinity of my heart, tugs at me. I drop down into the kitchen chair, note clutched between my fingers. I read it again and again, yet no matter how hard I try, I can’t stop that wall around my heart from fracturing. My phone pings and I jump. I fish it from the bottom of my purse, and a stupid smile tugs up the corners of my mouth as I read the message.
Hope you’re feeling better. I’m still alive. The evil little humans haven’t taken me out yet.
I hold the phone close and laugh, a new kind of lightness in me as I text back.
Feeling much better. I’m up to making dinner no problem. Whatever I had has passed.
I stare at the phone and three dots appear, only to disappear. I guess he changed his mind on whatever it was he was going to say. I shoot a text off to Cason to let him know things are going well and set my phone down. My stomach growls and I make some toast and tea, appreciating Roman leaving this all out for me. After I eat, I glance around, suddenly bored with myself. I’m usually on the go, having a million things to do, and I actually have no idea how to relax.
Well, I have some idea...
But Roman is at work, so I’m left to my own devices. Maybe I’ll head to the school and creep on him the way he creeped on me. I scoop up my purse and head out into the sunshine. Face tipped to the sun, I stand on the porch for a second. I truly love it here in Malta, and I haven’t even really explored it yet. Something about the place gives me a sense of peace, of home. Would it be the same if I weren’t here with Roman?
I’m too afraid to answer that.
I walk along the sidewalk leading to the school and pass joggers, and mothers pushing their children in strollers, and elderly people out for a walk. I’m not sure I ever remember my heart being so full.
As I approach the school, laughter reaches my ears, and I check my phone to see it’s afternoon break at the playground. I walk around the school, spot Roman and cover my mouth to stifle a chuckle. The kids are pulling him in all directions. I lean against the brick building, a huge smile on my face as I watch him join them in a game of basketball, where evidently, it’s him against the entire classroom.
“Hey, not fair,” he calls out, when one of the kids distracts him so the other can get the ball. They all laugh, obviously loving how they’re able to get the better of him. I stand there a few more minutes, and my smile falls as a flash of sadness envelops me. The man has been hurt in the past, has sworn off marriage and children. It’s a shame, really. He’s having the time of his life with them right now and it’s clear he’d be a remarkable father. Dammit, I hate that past hurts have forced him to guard his emotions. Maybe it’s time he let go of the past and move on to the future. My throat tightens. Yeah, I’m one to talk.
I fold my arms and hug myself as a cool chill moves through me. The sun is shining on my body, but the cold is always there, right below the surface. I’m about to push off the wall when I catch a shadow on the ground. I turn to find Richard coming toward me. I stand up a bit straighter.
“Late start to your day, isn’t it?” he calls out, his loud voice grabbing my attention. He checks his watch and closes the distance between us.
“I was ill.”
He raises his eyebrow and looks me over, like he’s judging me. “You seem fine now.” He finishes his perusal and I square my shoulders.
“I am now, but I was ill all night.” I narrow my eyes as I remember Roman asking if Richard could be behind my illness. “I think it might have been something I ate. Maybe the cupcake.”
Richard’s head rears back, and he glares at me. “Are you suggesting my wife did something to your cupcake?”
“I’m not—” I say.
