“Who’s your friend?”
Alexandra jumped back, hand on her chest, her heart pounding again for a different reason altogether. Roman walked toward her. If looks could kill, she’d be dead. Guess the couple minutes since he saw her hadn’t assuaged his anger.
“Some guy my grandmother set me up with,” she answered.
“You guys seemed pretty cozy to me. Touching, laughing, sitting together for dinner, kissing. Your family seemed to know him really well since you guys were sitting at the same table.” As Roman talked, he backed her into the wall, his hands on either side of her body, caging her in.
“I met him tonight. I swear I had no idea he would be here.” She stopped talking so she avoided sounding defensive. She’d done nothing she should be ashamed of.
Roman backed up, not out of her space but enough so she could move. “Tell me this, Alexandra; do I need to make an appointment at the doctor?” Her hand was halfway across his face before she realized what she was doing. He moved his jaw back and forth but didn’t react to the slap.
“Fuck you,” she seethed. “He was a friend who I only met tonight, and turned down because I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” Shame flashed through his eyes, but he still stayed silent.
“Alexandra, you okay?” Her grandfather’s voice rang out in the hallway, walking toward them. They jumped apart as though they’d been caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Alexandra wrapped her hands around her middle to protect herself from any more barbs Roman may throw out. “Parker said you were looking for us.”
“I was,” she answered with fake enthusiasm. “I’m on my way back.” Her grandfather came up beside her as though showing solidarity before zooming in on Roman.
“I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“Roman Valentine,” Roman answered, ever the politician, holding out his hand for her grandfather to take. He accepted it, standing taller and crossing his arms across his chest.
“Nice to meet you.”
Her grandfather pointed between the two of them, but directed his question at Alexandra. “Do you two know each other?” She stared at him, and Roman seemed to beg her to say yes, but hurt and anger formed a lump in her throat, and she couldn’t resist the petty urge to lash out. She’d been foolish to believe their relationship contained something more, especially if he was going to act jealously.
“We used to.” She refused to flinch when the flash of pain came into his eyes before he straightened his lips and nodded.
“She’s right.” He smirked at her grandfather. “We don’t know each other anymore.” Roman directed the last statement toward her, telling her grandfather goodbye, and practically running in the opposite direction.
15
Roman threw back the beer he held like it was hard liquor as he stormed out of the hallway. The walls were closing in, and he needed air and a hundred feet away from Alexandra, who’d just eviscerated any hope of pursuing any type of relationship with her. Who he found himself falling for her despite his resolve not to. And if he hadn’t been so stupid, he wouldn’t feel like he’d left a huge chunk of his heart in that hallway, stomped under her heel. He’d seen her when her grandfather gave his speech; the spotlight had focused on their table. It showed the picture-perfect family with an amazing man on her arm. Not him. She’d barely mentioned the night, other than to ask if he’d come, probably covering her bases. Any doubts he had went away when she denied him in front of her grandfather.
Roman ordered Scotch, figuring he needed something stronger since he decided to drown his sorrows in the free-flowing alcohol.
“You ready?” Quinn came up, shaking his keys.
“Like you wouldn’t believe.” Roman shook his head. “We shouldn’t have come.” His brother nodded, handing his card to the valet who stood at attention at the door.
“Are you okay? You’ve been hitting the drinks hard for the last hour.”
“I’m fine,” Roman slurred, having ditched the glass but not the buzz from all the liquor. “Just my worst nightmare come to life.” And where the hell had that statement come from?
“You wanna talk about it? Or explain the cryptic message?” Quinn asked after he poured Roman into the passenger seat.
Roman pinched the top of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “Remember when you told me nothing good could come from seeing Marcus Kane’s daughter?”
“Yeah, I saw the shit storm coming from a mile away.”
Roman snorted. “Well, it happened.”
Roman pulled himself up to stare out the window. His mouth tilted down, eyes looking like they had bruises forming underneath, the frown lines more pronounced under the fluorescent light of the passing street light. He felt like he’d aged five years in the span of five hours. Was he so wrong about Alexandra? They’d been sleeping together for weeks, spending most nights together, and some evenings, as well. Although she never expressed a desire to move their relationship anywhere else, he had given it consideration.
They clicked sexually, more than some people did, and he had considered mentioning it on several occasions the last couple times he saw her but something always held him back. It was as though a switch was flipped when he told her about the house, and Roman couldn’t get back to what they had before. He hadn’t seen her much since she left the night she found out his obsession, but they’d texted, and he thought she was too busy to give him more than just sex. It was the excuse she’d given and he’d eaten the shit she’d served like a starving man. Guess I know what it was now.
Roman staggered up his walkway with assistance from Quinn, downing the proffered water and the Ibuprofen on the way to the bedroom. He took in the stark surroundings of his room, the king-sized bed taking up most of it, with the black furnishings making his once-sanctuary seem like a tomb. She doesn’t fit in here, he thought, dropping on the bed and settling in, ignoring what could have been.
***
Alexandra ran into the deli two days later, needing coffee more than she needed her next breath. She’d required ten layers of concealer that morning to cover up the shadows that had taken residence under her eyes, the effects of the fight Roman and she had had at the banquet. Two days and she hadn’t been able to sleep a wink, tossing and turning and wishing the sun would come up. The only bright spot of the whole situation was she’d nailed down Corey Davis’s case. The trial was in a week. She was meeting Blair for breakfast so Alexandra could talk about what happened with Roman. She debated calling her sister, but didn’t feel like going into the whole situation. Alexandra refused to consider how fucked up her situation was that she couldn’t call her sister for relationship advice. One thing at a time. One thing at a time.
“Black coffee, as requested.” Blair slid the steaming hot liquid nectar toward her. Alexandra blew on the top, wanting to guzzle the whole cup, but took a few testing sips. She welcomed the jolt of caffeine, sighing in appreciation.
“That’s a cup of coffee, not a penis, but you look like it almost made you come,” Blair deadpanned.
“Shut up.” Alexandra took another drink, finally feeling half-human. Blair rolled her eyes, signaling for the waiter to come and get their order. They ate at Westtown often, so both knew what they wanted. The waiter took their orders, leaving them alone to talk.
“So, what’s up?” Blair jumped straight to the point. Alexandra took another drink of coffee, readying herself to lay everything out. Every embarrassing detail about how she’d reacted the other night.
“Roman and I got in a fight and now it’s weird. We didn’t end it, but I got pissed and walked away the other night at the banquet.”