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“Define weird?”
“Well, you haven’t provided any quips in the past minute, nor have you said anything mildly insulting or annoying."
Ah. He would expect that of me.
“I’ve changed.”
He flicks an eyebrow up. “Really? And what led to this… change?”
“Would you sit down and let me talk?” I ask, growing mildly frustrated.
He smirks, taking a seat on the couch. I pause before doing the same.
“Would you like anything? Water? Juice?”
Roman’s eyebrows climb high. “Now I know something’s wrong. Are you okay? Did something happen in England? Are you in trouble?”
“No, I’m not. Everything’s fine.”
“Then why did you ask me to come here?”
“You know this conversation would go quicker if you’d just let me speak,” I snap.
I inwardly sigh because I was determined not to let him get to me. Roman unsettles me in a way no one else can. And I’m pretty sure he knows that. There’s a self-satisfied smirk on his face as he crosses his arms over his chest.
“Go on,” he states, gesturing for me to speak.
I open my mouth to do so and immediately lose my nerve. Very slowly, my mouth shuts and I swallow thickly. I look away from him, staring at the wall.
“What’s wrong?” Roman presses.
I shake my head. “Roman, I’m going to ask you some questions and I need you to answer me honestly. Could you do that?”
His expression pensive as he watches me. I catch the slight worry in his dark eyes. And maybe some suspicion. Then I realize the last time I asked him questions, we ended up fucking in his car. Which is what led to this cluster-fuck in the first place. For some reason, I smile.
“Don’t worry, I promise not to climb you or do anything untoward.”
“Climb me?” Roman says dryly with an eye roll. “Fine, ask your questions.”
“Okay. First question, why do you hate me?”
He scoffs. “I don’t hate you, Elena.”
“You’ve hated me since I was a teenager. Roman, you couldn’t stand me. You made me feel like shit for wanting to chase after my dreams. We had sex and it meant nothing to you. You treated me like garbage,” I say through gritted teeth.
I didn’t call him here to air out my grievances, but because of Cassie, we’re going to have a relationship going forward whether we like it or not. And I’d rather that relationship not be strained.
Roman lets out a long-suffering sigh, looking up to the ceiling. He’s probably wondering why he came here in the first place. When he looks back at me, he leans back against the couch.
“You remember your freshman year of high school? You snuck out to a party for seniors, alone. You knew nobody there and yet when a random guy offered you alcohol, you downed it without a second thought. Tony and I arrived before anything could happen, but Elena, you were so close to following the guy to a room.”
I wince at the memory. Admittedly, I was extremely immature back then, dumb, and still reeling from my mother’s exit from my life.
“Thank God you weren’t drugged. Tony literally had to drag you out of the house. You were pissed and you kept yelling at your brother. You called him an asshole. You said he was suffocating you. You told him to leave you alone,” Roman continues with his jaw clenched. “He didn’t that night and he never has. But that was just one moment among many when you were so much to handle.”
“So you hate me because I was an immature teenager lashing out due to the fact that she missed her mom?” I question, unable to keep the bitterness from my voice. “Roman, you were a dick to me for years! I couldn’t stand to be in the same room with you because you’d either insult me or put me down in some way. You made me feel like I wasnothing.”
This time, it’s his turn to wince.
