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"Relax. I was kidding." He's grinning. "Although, for the record, I'd have no problem being your dirty little whatever you want me to be."
His eyes are gleaming but, just like with what he said, there's something more there. Another layer. But I'm too blissed out to unpack it right now.
"It's not like that," I say. "I just need to process things. On my own. In my own time. The vet gang can be a little…"
"Intense?" he suggests.
"Yeah. Exactly.
He swoops down and kisses me. "No worries. I can keep our arrangement to myself."
* * *
I'm still floating the next day as I make my way to work.
Roman and I had sex.
And not just a little sex, we went the whole hog.
And there's a lot to like about his long, thick, American hog.
I didn't realize how much I needed to be with someone like that. Someone who I could unleash with and have some fun with. Someone who made me feel special and important. Someone who could fuck me until I felt I was going to split apart at the seams and then call me baby and shower me with tenderness.
Last night also revealed to me the full extent of the funk I'd fallen into, how bruised my ego is—was?—after what Bailey did, and how completely and utterly amazing it feels to be with someone who makes me feel like I matter.
Because he does. Roman makes me feel more wanted than anyone ever has.
And there's something about him that screams nurturer, too. You wouldn't know it by looking at him, but he cares deeply. Whether it's helping a guy he barely knows who's been kicked out of his home, or sacrificing sleep to look after an abandoned litter of kittens, Roman can't see something bad and not do something. He's the type of guy who will step up and help out.
The only tricky part is going to be making sure we keep things purely at a physical level. Like I told him, I'm really not ready for anything more. Even though my marriage is dead, and I have no love left for Bailey, the divorce is still happening. I need to get through that, process it, and only then will I have the bandwidth to get emotionally involved with someone.
But it felt so damn nice to be held. To fall asleep together. Spend the night pressed against a warm body. Wake up next to someone. It's crazy how much I miss those little things.
But nope. Roman and I are keeping this strictly sexual. That's the deal. Falling asleep in his bed was probably a mistake. One I can't repeat since I can't go around telling him not to get attached while I do exactly that. That's totally hypocritical.
My next-day post-sex buzz dies the second my eyes land on the person leaning against a light pole a few doors down from the entrance to the clinic.
"What are you doing here?"
Bailey pushes off the pole and stalks over to me, his cold, gray eyes assessing me. "Thought you and I should talk."
"I have to work." I tip my head toward the bright Vet Shop Boys sign on the front of the building.
"You're early. You're always early. Let's get a coffee."
I hate that he knows I always come to work a good half hour before my shift is scheduled to start so that I can chat with the other vets and see what's been happening, check in on any animals we have in care, and of course, catch up with Harmony to get all the latest goss.
"I passed a bakery a few doors down."
"No," I say firmly, registering the flicker of surprise in his eyes.
Bailey's not used to me contradicting him. I always went along with whatever he wanted. Not anymore. And I donotwant to go to my friend's bakery with him.
"We can talk here," I tell him flatly, determined not to budge on this.
"You're being stupid, but fine, whatever."
I bite my tongue and let that remark slide. If I answer back, this will devolve into an insult-slinging match. He's obviously got something to tell me otherwise he wouldn't be here. The sooner I find out what it is, the sooner we can both be on our merry ways.
