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“Are you volunteering to do the research for that particular equation?” Delia asked, brows up, but Camila shook her head.
“I’m kind of feeling like that kiss was a one-time thing. I mean, not that it wasn’t…” Heat flooded her face, and yeah, probably best not to finish that sentence out loud. “And not that I necessarily want it to be a one-and-done. But I haven’t talked to him at all since it happened.”
“So?” Delia asked. “Since when are you a wallflower when it comes to following up with a highly kissable man?”
Camila opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Which turned out to be okay, because Delia wasn’t done. “Let me ask you this. Did you get the impression that Roman wanted it to be a one-time thing?”
The question had Camila freezing with her fork halfway to her lips. But her answer popped out, all truth. “No.”
“And you just saidyou’dlike to see him again, right?”
“Well, yeah,” Camila admitted. It was also the truth, not to mention a pretty big understatement. “But I’m not sure it’s quite that easy.”
“And I’m not sure it’s quite that difficult.” Delia met Camila’s gaze across the table and smiled. “Look, I’m going to tell you something I think you already know. Roman isn’t exactly the sort of guy who’s fast and loose with his emotions. It’s not necessarily a bad thing,” she added quickly. “I’m sure he’s got his reasons. But you aren’t even the tiniest bit afraid to tell it like it is when it comes to your feelings. And that’s also not a bad thing. In fact, in this case, it’s a verygoodthing.”
“Okay,” Camila said, thoroughly lost. “You just made us sound like complete opposites. How is that a good thing?”
But Delia simply shrugged. “Balance. He needs a nudge in the right direction, and you’re the perfect person to give it to him. Anyway, hasn’t anyone ever told you?” Her eyes twinkled with mischief as her mouth widened into a smile. “Opposites attract.”
11
Roman sat back at his desk, looked at his cell phone, and swore. Under normal circumstances, having no incoming calls, no texts, and no voicemail messages would be something he’d celebrate, since nearly all interruptions of the cellular variety kept him from his number-one priority, which was putting his head down to get shit done. But as it stood, an entire seven days had now passed since he and Camila and the rest of the bank patrons had been inside Remington Financial when the place had been robbed at gunpoint, and in that time, Roman had gotten the same four-word update even though he’d called in every day. “We’ll keep you posted,” Detective Garza always said, then hung up before Roman could ask for more details.
Tossing the offending iPhone on his desk, Roman scanned the laptop screen in front of him, trying to distract himself from the thoughts churning through his mind. Calloway hadn’t been pleased that the “few days” she’d told him to take off had amounted to essentially one (twenty-five hours counted in his book, and it wasn’t his fault she hadn’t been more specific). He hadn’t been able to find much of anything online about the bank robbery, other than what he already knew, and Calloway had made it wildly clear that if he did any rogue investigating at all, she’d not only know about it, but she’d bench him indefinitely. Since her background had been in counter-intelligence before she’d been granted her own unit here in the fraud division…yeah, if Roman so much as Googled where to go for lunch, she’d know what was on the menu before he’d even closed the damn browser.
Which had left him chained to his desk,notworking on a case where his own life had been in danger, not taking down criminals he deserved to bring to justice. But he knew Calloway would one hundred percent make good on her threat if he went poking around for answers, and the twenty-four hours he’d had to spend out of the office had been bad enough.
While the rest of his unit had spent today in the field, working a new identity theft case, Roman had been relegated to catching up on paperwork. This didn’t necessarily bother him in the way it would anyone else. Yes, the work itself was dry as sand, and more yes, he’d rather be in the field than behind his desk. But he was used to being at arm’s length from the rest of his unit. Not because they excluded him—in fact, they’d tried their damnedest to buddy up to him. But just because he trusted them as competent professionals didn’t mean they had to hit the gym together or hang out on weekends for burgers and beers. It was cool that they all did it (and theysodid). All that sharing and caring and social stuff just wasn’t Roman’s thing.
Emotions were dangerous. They put you at risk for totally illogical reactions, for fear and clouded thinking, and in his line of work, that could literally mean life or death. Better to keep his distance and feel nothing.
And how’s that working out for you with Camila, buddy?
Heart pounding, Roman sat straight up in his chair. Stupid as fuck, since a) the office was empty with everyone out on this case, and b) no one could hear his thoughts, anyway.
Thank God, because as much as he hated it and as hard as he’d tried to fight it, his inner voice was right.
He couldn’t stop thinking about her. Wondering whether she was okay. How her injury was healing. If she needed someone to talk to. If she was sleeping well, if she’d gone back to work, what she was wearing in any given moment, if she remembered every detail of their kiss the same way he did, and fuck, this was stupid. He could just call her and find out.
The phone on his desk rang, startling the ever-loving shit out of him. Measuring his breath to counter the slam of his heart, he scooped the phone to his ear. “Fraud Division, Agent Roman.”
A pause, and then, “Hi. It’s me. Camila.”
So much for getting his heart to stop rattling around in his chest. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
“Does something have to be wrong for me to call you?” she asked, and confusion replaced his shock in one fell swoop.
“Why else would you call me?”
“Solidarity,” Camila said. “I’m sorry for interrupting your workday, but I didn’t have your cell phone number. Delia had your business card from last year, and she passed it on. School just let out for the day, but if this is a bad time for you—”
Roman looked around the empty office and let out a humorless laugh. “Not at all. I’m actually glad you called.”
He heard the words only after they’d launched, and so much for growing an ounce of self-control since he’d last seen her.
“You are?” she asked, but fuck it. He’d already let loose with the truth. Might as well own it.
“I promised solidarity, didn’t I? Anyway, I’m on desk duty, so the distraction is more than welcome.”
