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“I wanted to touch you.”
Fuck me.I should have left when the others did.
“I wanted you to touch me.”
I can feel my control slipping.
“I wanted that too.” My confession hangs between us. It’s heavy, like a muggy afternoon. I wanted to touch her. I wanted to fucking devour her.
I still want to touch her.
Istillwant to devour her.
“Show me.”
Slowly, I shake my head. “I can’t.”
Doesn’t she see how hard this is for me? Can she not see how twisted up inside I am over needing her? She’s right here, and I can’t do a single fucking thing about it.
“You can.”
“Dammit, Emerson. I fucking can’t.”
“Why?”
“Why?” I laugh humorlessly. Leaning over, I bring my face mere inches from hers. Unable to resist, I cradle her face in the palm of my hand. “Because once I start, I’ll never be able to stop.”
“Then don’t stop.”
“Fuck, you are a dangerous kind of temptation.”
“I don’t want to tempt you, Rome. I just want to be with you.” She leans into my hand, and I know I have to get up and walk away. If I don’t, I’m going to do something that will ruin my friendship with her brother. I should say that I’ll do something that I regret, but I know with everything that I am, that I would never,willnever, regret any moment shared with her.
Knowing that it’s wrong but unable to resist, I lean in and press my lips to her forehead. “The fire’s burned out, and it’s cold out here. Let’s get you inside.” I stand and offer her my hand, which she takes. I lace our fingers together and lead her to the back door. “Lock up behind me.”
“Rome.”
This time it’s both of my hands that cup her cheeks. I tilt her head up so that she’s looking at me. “If there was ever someone that I would risk it all for, it would be you.” I kiss her forehead one more time before dropping my hands and stepping away. “Go on inside.”
I can see the sadness in her eyes, and if I’m not mistaken, a little anger too. I expect her to fight me, but she does as I ask, stepping inside. She locks the door and turns out the lights. I stand here staring through the patio door into the darkness of the kitchen, wishing like hell that I was on the other side, following her to her room.
ChapterSix
Emerson
The weeks are flying by. It’s been three since the bonfire celebration of me being home for the summer. It’s also been three weeks since Roman and I have barely said more than a few words to one another. If it’s not about the shop, we don’t discuss it.
It’s driving me insane.
He’s stubborn and sexy, and did I say stubborn? I don’t know how to get through to him. What this is between us should be just that—between us. My brother shouldn’t even factor in. We’re both adults and can make our own choices. I know that Forrest is protective, but he has to let me live my life.
I understand that they’re best friends, but at the end of the day, we have to live for ourselves. If growing up with two alcoholics as parents has taught me anything, it’s that. I used to stress and worry about them constantly, but they never spared me another thought. I’m not saying that you shouldn’t care about others, but you have to do what’s best for you.
What if what’s best for Roman and myself is us being together?
“I’m out,” my brother says, walking up to the desk, cell phone and keys in hand. “You coming straight home after work?”
“I’m not sure yet. I might swing by Monroe’s. We talked about taking a late-night swim.”
