Chapter Fifteen

Ilay in Roman"s bed for a long time, watching shadows shift and dance across the ceiling as late afternoon creeps toward early evening. My head pounds and my entire body aches and throbs. Every time I breathe, it feels like I"m being stabbed in the lung. It fucking hurts. But I don"t cry any more.

I don"t sleep, either.

His scent is all over the bed. I feel like I"m surrounded by him. His words echo in my mind over and over. I"m not sure what he meant when he said I"m not ever leaving him, but I do know he meant every word.

I"m not sure why I was going to leave in the first place. Actually, that"s not true. I know exactly why. I"m in love with him. I don"t know when I fell or how, but I fell like a freaking star plummeting to earth.

I"m afraid that if I don"t leave now, leaving will only get harder. I"ll only fall deeper. When our sandcastle gets knocked down, I"m terrified it"ll break me.

I don"t know how to be broken. I don"t like to be vulnerable. Giving Roman any more power over me is just asking to wake up one day shattered into pieces I can"t put back together. I realized that this morning.

Whether it"s his job or Tahani, eventually, something will pop our little bubble, and I"m the one who"s going to end up alone.

So I shut him out today and tried to pull away. It didn"t make me feel any better, though. Every time he touched me, all I wanted was to lean into him and let him take care of me. I wanted to tell him that I love him.

I told him I wasn"t mad at him, but that was a lie. I"m mad as hell that he freaked out on me. I"m mad that he stormed out. It isn"t even his fault that I tripped on the stupid stairs and fell, but I"m mad at him for that, too. If I hadn"t been crying over him, I would have seen the step I missed. Mostly though? Well, mostly, I"m mad at him for not loving me, too.

You aren"t fucking leaving me, Mila. Not now and not ever, baby.

What did he mean?

What does he want from me?

Every part of my heart keeps yelling at me to stop trying to reason my way out of his life and find out. It keeps telling me to stop thinking and talk to him. To find a way to make this work because it"s worth it. Because he"s worth it.

I"m scared, though. So fucking scared that he doesn"t feel the same way about me, and I"m going to end up with a broken heart.

As the sun sets and shadows rapidly overtake the room, my phone rings. I roll toward the sound, and tears immediately spring to my eyes. Moving fucking hurts. Stubbornly, I refuse to give up. Instead, I grit my teeth against the pain and stretch as far as I can, hitting the lamp to turn it on. Once that"s done, I grab the phone.

"Hello?" I mumble as soon as it"s at my ear. My voice is rough with pain and the tears I"m fighting. I"ve never hurt this badly in my life. And yet, my stupid heart hurts worse than any of my injuries.

"Hello. I"m trying to reach Ms. Mila Lawson," an unfamiliar, upbeat woman says.

"This is Mila." I pull the phone from my ear and look at the number. It"s familiar, but I"m not sure why.

"Oh, great," she chirps. "This is Molly Tamo with the Costei Literary Agency. I"m sorry to be calling so late, but we received your resume, and Mr. Costei would love to meet with you."

Before I can respond to her, the bedroom door opens, and Roman walks in with a pill bottle in one hand and a bottle of water in the other.

My gaze lands on him, and my mouth immediately goes dry.

God, why does he have to be so freaking gorgeous?

It"s really not fair that he"s tall, dark, handsome, and built like a damn mountain. Just looking at him makes my heart race, and my body temperature ratchet up a notch. Even hurting like I am, I want him.

His hazel eyes meet mine, and I get lost in his gaze for a minute. His expression is so contradictory. I"m not sure what he"s thinking. There"s softness and doubt, a little bit of anger and fear…and a whole lot of worry and desire.

"Ms. Lawson? Are you still there?" Molly asks.

I blink, tearing my gaze from Roman.

"Oh, um, yes. I"m sorry. I would love to meet with Mr. Costei," I say, my voice shaking.

Roman freezes halfway across the room. I feel his eyes on me, burning hot. I avoid looking at him again, scared I"ll get caught up in his gaze once more and sound like an even bigger idiot on the phone.

"Great," Molly says. "He"s out of town until next Tuesday. Would you be available to meet with him on Thursday? Say around three?"

"Next Thursday at three?" I confirm as Roman moves closer, forcing himself back into my line of sight. He isn"t going to let me ignore him any longer. Of course he isn"t. Truthfully, I"m surprised he let me at all.

"Yes. Will that work for you?"

"Y-yes. That will be fine," I whisper, my gaze stuck on him again. He"s watching me like he always does, studying me. He looks pissed off and uncertain at the same time. That look makes me nervous. He"s so self-assured, uncertainty looks foreign on him.

"Excellent. I"ll let him know to expect you. I see from your resume that you graduated from Berkeley, so you shouldn"t have any problems locating us. If you do need directions, you can call this number and someone will get you sorted out."

"That sounds great. Thank you."

"You"re welcome, Ms. Lawson," Molly says. "We"ll see you next Thursday. Have a good evening."

"You too," I mumble.

The line beeps when the call ends, but I hold the phone to my ear for another moment, trying to forestall the conversation I know is coming. I"m a little afraid that he"s going to freak out on me again.

"Interview?" he asks, pacing toward me. His voice is quiet…intense.

"Yes," I whisper and reluctantly drop my phone to the bed beside me. I try to push myself into a sitting position, only to whimper when another wave of pain hits me.

Roman moves like he"s going to help me, so I push through it. If I feel his hands on me, I may start crying again.

Despite my best efforts, I only manage to slide a little higher up in the bed. It"s not exactly a sitting position, but at least I"m not flat on my back anymore with him towering over me.

He mutters something that sounds a lot like he"s calling me a stubborn pain in the ass and then pops the top off the bottle of pills and shakes two out into his hand before holding them out to me.

"What are they?" I ask, staring at them like they might bite me.

"Aleve," he says. "I know you never take anything stronger than that."

How does he know that?

"How do you know that?" I ask. I"ve never liked the way pain medication makes me feel. I"d rather be in pain than feel like a cracked out zombie. Still, I don"t know how he knows. It"s not something I remember telling him. I don"t know why I"m surprised, though. He hears everything I say. I think he always has.

He doesn"t answer me, so I reluctantly take the pills from him. He twists the cap off the water and holds it out as well. I pop the pills into my mouth and then take a drink to push them down my throat. The water soothes a little of the ache in my throat, so I take another big drink before holding the bottle out to him again.

"Thank you," I whisper.

"Where is the job?" He carefully sets the water and pill bottle on the bedside table. His expression is tense, his lips set in a thin, disapproving line.

"Berkeley." I bite my lip, quelling the urge to begin rambling off an apology for not telling him sooner about the Triton Agency being located in Los Angeles. Anything I could say wouldn"t help. Not with that look on his face. Still, I feel like I need to say something because I should have told him sooner. "Roman, I–"

"You should hold out for the job in Los Angeles," he blurts.

My gaze flies back to his. He looks nervous as his gaze rolls over me. I know he"s nervous when he rakes a hand through his hair.

My heart aches a little at seeing that uncertain look on his face again. I"m afraid to ask him what has him so worried. I"m afraid to hope, too, but a little sliver of it begins growing in my chest anyway, pushing out some of the chill I"ve felt since he stormed off this morning.

He lowers himself to the bed beside me, being careful not to jostle me. He sits so close to me, his body is right up against mine. Yet again, I find myself fighting the urge to lean into him. He"s so big and warm…I always feel safe with him, like nothing bad can happen if I"m in his arms.

"You scared me today," he whispers, tilting his head to look at me. "When I saw you at the bottom of the stairs, I thought…" He shakes his head, expelling a heavy breath. Pain washes through his expression in a flood that breaks me wide open. "I thought I"d never get to fix what I fucked up this morning. I thought you were dead."

"I"m okay," I tell him, my heart fracturing. He sounds so fucking sad, looks so repentant…I can"t stay away from him anymore. I lean into him, biting my lip to mute a whimper when my rib and head both throb.

"You"re not okay," he growls immediately, but his arms close around me anyway.

Very gently, he moves me around until I"m lying down again, my face pressed into his chest with one of his arms around me. Even with as careful as he is, moving still hurts like hell.

By the time he has me positioned, I feel a little like fainting, and he"s muttering a string of expletives beneath his breath.

"I"ll be okay," I mumble, burrowing even deeper into him. His body is rock solid, but he"s comfortable and warm and smells so good. My eyes grow heavy as I listen to the steady thrum of his heart. I"m so tired.

"Yeah, you will be." His lips settle against my crown and linger there. "You"re a fucking warrior, Mila."

"Did you mean it?"

He doesn"t ask what I mean. He knows.

"Yeah," he whispers into my hair, "I meant it."

He wants me to take the job in Los Angeles.

"I"m sorry I didn"t tell you the truth earlier."

With one hand on the back of my neck, being careful to avoid the knot on the back of my head, he carefully tips it back until my eyes meet his. "I don"t fucking care," he says firmly. Something hot and sweet swirls through his hazel eyes. "You don"t owe me an apology for anything. Come to Los Angeles with me, baby."

"But–" I don"t know how to ask if he wants me there or if he just feels guilty. If that"s what this is, I don"t want it. Okay, I do. I want him however I can have him, but I do have a little self-respect. Enough to know I"d never try to force myself into his life if he didn"t really want me there.

"I want you with me," he says before I can find a way to put any of that into words.

"You do?" I whisper, still afraid to hope.

"Yes. Christ, baby, don"t you know that?" His gaze shifts across my face, his eyes soft. "I was a dick this morning, but it wasn"t because I don"t want you. Not even close. I"ve never felt this way about anyone before you. I"m so fucking gone for you, it"s pathetic."

"You"re…what?" Maybe I fell asleep and am dreaming because I know he didn"t just say that.

He smiles, his lips tipping up at the corners. "I think I"ve been half in love with you for years. Maybe it"s too soon to tell you that. Maybe it sends you running. I don"t know, but it"s fucking true. I"m in love with you."

He loves me.

Holy fuck. He"s in love with me.

"What about your job?" I ask him, trying to be rational even though I really don"t want to be.

Worry slides through his eyes again, and his arm tightens around me for a split second before he forces himself to relax. "I don"t know," he murmurs truthfully. "I"ve fought for a long time to keep my job from touching the people I care about. The person I have to be and the things I have to do are fucked up. My life, my job…it"s pretty fucking grim, Mila. I don"t know how to let you into that side of my life any more than I already have. I don"t know how to let you see that side of me. I don"t know how any of this shit works. All I know is that I want you with me. I"ll do whatever I have to do to keep you safe. I won"t let that part of my life touch you. I can"t."

"I don"t think it works that way," I whisper, watching fear, determination, and a million other emotions rapidly parade across his gorgeous face. He means what he"s saying, but I don"t think it works that way.

He cocks his brow at me, silently demanding an explanation.

"I may not understand your lifestyle or exactly what your job entails, but those things are part of who you are. I don"t think you get to compartmentalize that part of yourself and hide it away. It"s going to touch me because it touches you. It"s part of who you are. You can"t protect me from that."

"I won"t let it touch you," he growls.

"I know you"ll keep me safe," I whisper, "because that"s part of who you are, too. You"re protective, possessive, and bossy as hell. And I think you"d move heaven and hell if you had to because that"s also who you are. But you"re a cop, too, Roman. Maybe Tahani can accept you shutting her out of that part of your life, but I can"t."

He opens his mouth to say something, so I quickly put my hand over his lips to silence him.

"I"m not saying I want to know all the details," I say before he can pull my hand away. "I"m not saying I want to meet the criminals you work with or go on raids with you or whatever. I"m just saying that I"m in love with all of you. If you have to keep me in the dark about certain things, fine. But if you"re just going to flip out every time I get too close to that part of your life, we"re going to have problems because it is part of your life. It"s a big part of your life, and you can"t tuck it away in some little box. You can"t tuck me away in some little box, either. This will never work like that."

"Say that again," he breathes when I pull my hand from his mouth. His forehead tips down to rest against mine, his eyes blazing with heat. For a second, I"m not sure what he"s talking about, and then he repeats his request, growling the words at me, and understanding dawns.

"I"m in love with you," I whisper, unable to hide the way my voice shakes.

He looks so confused, so hopeful…God, he wrecks me. Sometimes, he looks at me, and I have no idea what"s going on in his mind. He"s locked up so tight that trying to read him is like trying to read the moon. Other times, like right now, he"s like a little boy when he looks at me, and everything he"s feeling is right there on his face.

I love those times because they"re just for me. I"m the only woman who gets to see him like this. I"m the only one who gets to see the real him. He lets me in because he wants me in there…and he wants only me to have this part of him.

"Christ," he says, exhaling a shaking breath. His eyes darken until he looks like a predator staring at me, ready to pounce. "I want to be inside you when you say those words to me."

I moan before I can stop myself. I want him inside me, fucking me while he demands to hear me say it over and over. I already know he will demand it because that"s part of who he is too. He fucks me like he can"t stop and kisses me like I"m the most important thing in the world to him. He says the filthiest shit and does things to my body that I"ve only ever read about. And the entire time, he demands more because he"s greedy for it. Because he needs it. Because he knows I"ll give it to him. I"ll always give it to him.

God, I love him.

"I"m not fucking you," he says, cupping my cheeks in his big hands, a tender smile on his lips. "I want to, but you"re in pain. I don"t want to hurt you. I won"t hurt you."

"I know." He won"t even fuck me when he thinks I"m too sore from him being inside me. There"s no way he"ll fuck me when I spent half the afternoon in the emergency room. And honestly, as much as I want him, there"s no way I can have sex when I feel precisely like I fell down a flight of stairs.

He chuckles at the petulance in my voice, brushing a kiss across my forehead and then across my lips. "I"m sorry I made you cry this morning," he says once he"s tucked me back into his chest.

"Me too. I hate crying."

"I fucking hate seeing you cry," he grumbles. "Being the one who made you cry makes me feel like the biggest asshole. You"re too beautiful to cry over me, baby."

"It"s okay," I mumble.

"It"s not okay."

He"s right, so I don"t argue with him.

"Do you really want me to come with you?" I can"t help but ask again. He was so pissed off this morning; it"s going to take a minute for me to wrap my head around his change of heart.

"Yes." His soft sigh sends pieces of my hair wafting around at the back of my head. His arms tighten around me before loosening again. "The thought of you anywhere near the people I deal with scares the fuck out of me, Mila. I don"t like the guy I have to be when I deal with that shit. I feel fucking selfish for wanting you with me when I know what you"re walking into and you don"t. I"ve never been in love before. This is all new to me. It"s going to take time to wrap my mind around it. That"s what this morning was about. It had nothing to do with me not wanting you, got it?"

"Got it," I mumble, yawning.

"You should sleep." He lets me go long enough to pull the blankets up over me, making sure I"m tucked in before he gently pulls me back into his chest. "We can talk about this shit later."

"Will you stay with me?" I ask. My eyes feel too heavy to hold them open any longer, but I don"t want to let him go.

"I"m not going anywhere, baby," he promises, heat in his voice.

"Thank you," I mumble, and then I"m out.