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When we’re done changing her, he holds her, trying to rock her back to sleep. The man has known about this child’s existence for a little over a week and he’s already this good with her. It’s the sweetest thing ever.
“I’ll put her back to sleep,” he tells me.
I nod. “I’ll finish preparing those sandwiches.”
His eyes narrow. “Elena…”
“I’ll be fine. The cut was a freak accident.”
“Fine,” he mutters, cradling his daughter’s head as he gently rocks her back to sleep.
After one last look at them, I walk out of the room. It only takes me a couple of minutes to get the grilled cheese sandwiches ready. By the time Roman walks out of my bedroom, I’ve laid out the sandwiches on the table and I head back into the kitchen to grab two bottles of coke.
Roman accepts the sandwich I hand him with a quiet word of thanks, taking a seat on the couch. We eat in silence for several minutes. The air between us is a little awkward, which is to be expected considering what just happened in the kitchen. Roman clears his throat once he’s done eating.
“I can admit that wasn’t half bad,” he states.
It takes me a second to realize what he’s talking about and my face splits into a grin.
“I told you! I can cook now,” I say triumphantly.
He arches an eyebrow. “Elena, you made a grilled cheese sandwich. Pretty sure toddlers can do that.”
“Yeah, right,” I scoff. “Just say thank you, Rome. No need to be an asshole.”
He chuckles. “Thank you for the sandwich, trouble. Maybe next time you can cook me something else. Something challenging.”
“Of course I will.”
He runs his hand through his hair. “About what happened back there. In the kitchen.”
My pulse quickens. “It was a mistake,” I blurt out.
Roman pauses, staring at me.
“There’s no need to talk about it. It was just something that happened in the heat of the moment. No big deal,” I hurriedly say.
His eyes narrow. “A mistake? Elena, the last time you and I made a mistake like that, you ended up pregnant.”
I suck in a breath. “Cassie’s not a mistake.”
“Of course not,” he says, his expression softening. “I just think we should talk about this.”
“No. There’s nothing to talk about,” I say stubbornly.
Whatever this thing is between us, I have no intention of exploring or questioning it. We’re not at liberty to entertain such thoughts. I know he knows that, too.
Roman’s jaw is clenched. He’s about to say something else, probably argue, when the door unlocks from the outside and Kiara walks in, pocketing her key. She falls to a stop at the sight in front of her.
“Roman,” she drawls. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“I was just leaving,” he mutters, getting to his feet. “I’ll text you, Elena.”
He walks out without another word and I exhale softly. Kiara places her purse on the table as she sits beside me.
“What the hell happened?”
“We kissed,” I confess immediately, needing to get it off my chest.
