The ride back to Rome’s place was a lot less fun and exciting than the one we’d taken at the start of our date. I still didn’t like the idea of stopping off for a shower. It’d been easy to dismiss our chemistry while I’d been outside nursing my eye. But the ice had actually helped a lot, and now that I was riding behind him, I kept thinking about our crazy makeout session against the wall before the fight.
This was pointless—we were a dead end. The sooner I ripped him out of my life like a used Band-Aid, the safer I’d be. You know, before I changed my mind and embarrassed myself by trying to jump him. Unfortunately, he’d been right about one thing.
I looked like shit.
My eye was like disgusting, expired hamburger, and the swelling was so nasty that I’d given up any hope that I’d be able to cover it with makeup. No wonder he hadn’t exactly put up a fight when I’d blown him off. Leaning into his back, I gave serious thought to skipping the party tomorrow night.
On the one hand, it was my ten-year reunion, and after running into Peaches, I’d realized how much I was looking forward to seeing all the people I’d grown up with. On the other, I had a hamburger face. I’d already accepted the fact that I wasn’t a doctor or a movie star. So what if I hadn’t written any multi-platinum international hits? I didn’t need to impress anyone with my amazingness—that’d never been me.
But seriously. I looked like shit. It was depressing.
I should wait until morning to make the decision, I decided. Right now I was tired, confused, full of pain, and slightly horny in an unhealthy kind of way. Not the best time to make decisions.
It wasn’t until we reached Hallies Falls that I remembered I had no idea where he lived. A smart girl might’ve asked about that ahead of time, I mused. Of course, a smart girl wouldn’t have gone out on a date to the Starkwood Saloon, let alone publicly dry hump a biker up against the wall. Tonight hadn’t been my finest hour, yet somehow I’d still gotten my seven minutes in Heaven.
So wrong on so many levels.
It turned out that Rome’s place wasn’t too far from my mom’s. Once upon a time, this had been one of the most historic and charming neighborhoods in town, but the fires hadn’t been kind to Hallies Falls. Half the city had burned that horrible, endless week that we had to evacuate.
Now this area was all new construction—mostly apartments and condos. Rome’s was one of the nicer ones. He had a second-story unit overlooking the park, and it wasn’t just a hole in the wall. There was a spacious entry way and a good-sized living room separated from a full-sized kitchen with a breakfast bar. The ceiling overhead formed sort of a half vault, slanting down to what looked like patio doors off a separate dining area. The living room itself had large picture windows and a small, cozy-looking gas fireplace.
“You want something to drink?” Rome asked as I looked around, curious about his natural habitat. The kitchen cabinets formed a shelf, and he’d lined the top with old-fashioned firefighting things. A flame-scarred helmet. One of those axes with a pick on the end. Other things I didn’t know the names for, but they all had the worn look of true antiques.
“No, I’m fine,” I said, exhaustion abruptly overwhelming everything else. Adrenaline had been carrying me through the evening, but it was fading fast. “I should get into the shower or I’m gonna fall asleep. But you don’t need to worry about my clothes. It’s not like I have anything to change into.”
“You can borrow a shirt and shorts from me,” he said. “And you might not be thirsty, but you need some ibuprofen for that eye, so drink up.”
He handed me a glass of water and a couple of pills, supervising as I obediently swallowed them.
“Good. You’ll want to take more in the morning,” he said. “Now it’s shower time—the bathroom is in here.”
I followed him though the dining area and into his bedroom, noting that the covers on his queen sized bed were made up neatly. The whole room was fairly tidy, actually.
Wonder if he’s always this clean, or if he was hoping to get lucky tonight and wanted to impress me?
Rome paused to open one of the dresser drawers and took out some clothing, then handed me the small pile. The bathroom was nice. Nothing fancy about the finishes, but the room was good sized and there was a jetted tub big enough for two. If things had gone differently, I might’ve been settling in for a bath right now instead of a shower.
“Towels are under here,” he said, opening one of the cabinets below the sink, pulling out a couple. “Grab more if you need them. Go ahead and throw your clothes out the door when you’re ready, and I’ll get them started.”
“It’ll take half the night,” I protested. “I get why you wanted me to clean up, but I really do need to get home. I’m exhausted.”
“You can sleep here.”
I stared at Rome, wondering if I’d heard him right.
“Why would I sleep here?”
“Because you’re tired,” he replied, his tone matter of fact and casual. Too casual.
“What’s your game?” I asked bluntly, too tired to guess.
Rome raised a brow, then gave me that panty-melting little smile of his. “No games, Randi. I’m tired. You’re tired. Just because this started out as a date doesn’t mean it has to end as one, and there’s plenty of room for both of us. You can have the bed and I’ll take the couch. Tomorrow morning, you’ll have clean clothes. The swelling will have started to go down, and then you can explain to your family without setting them off in the middle of the night. Unless you really think you can sneak in without your sister waking up and asking what happened?”
I tried to think of a reason to say no, but my exhausted brain came up blank. And I absolutely knew Lexi would be lying in wait for me. She’d start screeching, and then my mom would wake up and that would be it for the night.
The only thing worse than going to a class reunion with a giant black eye would be going to a reunion with a giant black eye after a night of arguing with my family.
“Okay,” I said, reluctantly agreeing with him. “But I’m taking the couch. Not the bed. You’re on your own in here.”
He raised a brow.
“My mom would kick my ass if I let you sleep on the couch,” he told me.
I crossed my arms, shaking my head. “I’m smaller than you. The couch will be fine, and then I won’t have to feel guilty about taking your bed.”
Rome held my gaze for a minute, and I thought he might push the point. Then he shrugged and said, “Okay. I’ll go grab some blankets and a pillow for the couch.”
I felt that same sense of disappointment I’d had at the bar, when he’d given up on a second date. God, was I turning into one of those crazy girls who wouldn’t tell a guy what she really wanted, and then got angry because he couldn’t read her mind?
Or maybe it was just a weird night. I needed a shower and some sleep. There’d be time in the morning to decide if I’d lost my mind.
“Thanks,” I said, then shut the bathroom door.
I felt a thousand times better after the shower, although I hadn’t put my clothes out for Rome to wash. They were dirty, of course, and they’d be super uncomfortable to sleep in… but handing them over seemed wrong, somehow.
I poked through the clean pile, trying to make up my mind. Rome had given me a pair of basketball shorts (complete with helpful drawstring) and a faded gray T-shirt that was super soft from being washed a thousand times. There was a firefighters’ union logo—IAFF Local 5835—across the front. I bet it hugged those sexy muscles of his nice and tight.
On me it would be more like a nightgown.
A clean, comfortable nightgown. Running my fingers across the soft cotton, I decided that while wearing his clothes might be weird, torturing myself by wearing uncomfortable, dirty stuff wasn’t going to make my life any easier.
I’d feel way better in the morning putting on something clean.
Reaching for my panties, I saw the push-up bra I’d borrowed from Lexi sitting on the counter. No way was I handing that over. I should probably just wear it under the T-shirt, I decided. That way I wouldn’t nip out. But it made my boobs look fantastic for a reason—the thing had serious structural support.
The kind of structural support only a masochist would consider wearing to bed.
Not only that, if I threw it in with the rest of my clothes, there was a very good chance the washing machine would tear it to shreds.
Then Lexi would never be able to wear it again.
Making a snap decision, I decided to sleep in bra-free comfort for the sake of my sister. It only took a minute to pull on the shirt and shorts. I stepped out of the bathroom to find Rome lounging on his bed, wearing only sweat pants. His hands were tucked back behind his head, and he’d turned on the TV mounted on the wall.
Labyrinth was playing.
That would be Labyrinth, the 1980s movie, starring David Bowie (as the goblin king), David Bowie’s junk (which was so prominent that it deserved separate billing), and a whole bunch of singing puppets.
“Hey, I’ll take those for you,” Rome said, standing up.
“It’s okay—I can start them. Just tell me where the washer is.”
“I got it,” he insisted, and for a minute I considered arguing with him. Then he got up, and I got distracted by the sight of his bare chest. All those muscles I’d only felt before were on full display, and they were glorious, indeed.
He smelled good, too. That’s when I noticed his hair was wet.
“Did you take a shower, too?”
“Yeah, there’s a little shower in the other bathroom,” he said. “But it’s really cramped and I haven’t cleaned it in weeks. Didn’t want to put you in there.”
“That was sweet.”
He smiled like an angel, and I considered swooning. I’d never actually tried swooning before, but this seemed like an appropriate situation. “I’m not sweet, Randi. Not even a little bit. Now give me your clothes and I’ll start the wash.”
I handed them over, thinking that whatever he said, Rome really was kind of sweet. I mean, how many guys did laundry for women who’d shut them down? He opened a closet against the same wall as the bathroom, revealing a stacked washer and dryer.
On the TV, Bowie and the puppets were singing about magic dances, and then he started throwing a baby around. I watched, feeling myself zone out. Rome casually strolled back to the bed.
“You know this one?” he asked, nodding toward the TV.
“Um, yeah,” I said. “I watched it all the time as a kid. My mom loved it, too. It’s cute.”
“That guy’s dick could poke your eye out.”
I shrugged, faintly embarrassed, because he was right. “Okay, so it’s cute in a pokey kind of way.”
“Want to watch for a while?” he asked. “The wash cycle won’t take long, but I don’t want to go to sleep until your stuff is in the dryer. Otherwise you’ll have nothing to wear in the morning. You can help me stay awake.”
Swallowing, I nodded my head, telling myself it’d be rude to expect him to stay up doing my laundry while I slept. And it wasn’t like I could do it myself. Not if he took the bed and I was on the couch.
Agreeing had nothing to do with the fact that there was a half-naked, gorgeous man right in front of me. Like a delicious cupcake just waiting for me to lick off all the frosting…
“You can sit on the bed,” Rome said, and while the words were innocent, there was nothing innocent about those eyes. Wait, was he still trying to hook up with me? “Nothing’s going to happen. We’re just waiting for laundry.”
Yeah, and wolves snuck up on sheep because they wanted to play hide and seek with them. He was totally still trying to hook up, I decided, refusing to acknowledge the perverse little thrill of excitement this gave me. If I was smart, I’d march right out to that couch and play on my phone until it was time to switch out the clothing.
Instead I sat on the bed, crossing my arms over my chest to give the girls some cover.
“That doesn’t look very comfortable,” he said after a few minutes. “Want a pillow?”
I glanced his direction, and my eyes caught on his abs.
“Sure, a pillow would be great,” I mumbled, forcing my attention back to the screen. Bowie gave a look that was pure sex, and I realized why Mom had let me watch it all the time as a kid.
She’d never been able to resist temptation.
Apparently, I couldn’t either.