Chapter 12: Monday afternoon: Romi’s flat

Amistake? What the fuck?! The kiss was great. I knew it was, and if the hard-on I felt as he pressed up against me was anything to go by, he’d felt the same way. Why was he pretending otherwise?

There were issues with our relationship. That had to be the only reason, surely? Well, I wasn’t going to let him talk himself out of his feelings for me. I would just have to talk to him and convince him to give us a chance.

Before my resolve could crumble, I quickly changed and headed outside to find him waiting.

“Romi…” I started to speak, but he cut me off with a shake of his head, clenching his jaw as he opened the car door for me. I wasn’t ready to leave. I couldn’t leave—not yet, not like this.

“Romi, we need to talk about what happened,” I tried again.

“Nothing happened!” he said through a tight jaw, refusing to look at me.

“We kissed. We need to talk about that,” I cried, feeling distraught.

“There’s nothing to talk about. It was a mistake. It shouldn’t have happened; forget about it!” Romi said in a cold voice, which was like a punch to my gut.

He left the passenger door open when I made no move to get inside, then rushed to the driver’s side and climbed in.

“Get in. I’m taking you home,” Romi said from inside, his firm voice cutting off any further argument.

Tears stung my eyes. What had happened? Our afternoon together had been going so well. How had it turned out so badly?

Climbing into the car, I turned towards him, but he refused to look at me. He pulled out of the parking area, looking angry.

Hurt beyond belief, I turned my head away from him and stared unseeing out of the window, desperately trying to hold back my tears. I wanted to say something. We couldn’t leave things like this, but I didn’t know what to say.

We drove for miles in silence, neither of us able nor willing to speak. The atmosphere was so thick you could have cut it with a knife. Tears pricked at my eyes, but I refused to give in to them. I was not going to let him see me cry like a little girl.

Pressing my head against the cool glass of the window was soothing, and lord knew I needed to be soothed right now. The atmosphere leaving his flat was so different from that of our journey there. I couldn’t stop myself from going over everything that happened, wondering where it had all gone so wrong.

Just a few hours ago, I was elated at finally spending time alone with Romi and thrilled when he told me all about his project. I found it all really interesting. He was so relaxed when we spoke about it, too. I loved hearing him talk so passionately. The sound of his voice, with its trace of Russian accent, which was thicker than my own, had sent little bolts of lightning straight to my core.

Romi obviously enjoyed renovating flats and took great pride in his work. I could hear it in his voice and enthusiasm when he spoke, but I could also see it in the quality of his workmanship. The flat looked great. Romi had some impressive DIY skills.

When I’d asked what he was planning on doing next, and he had said, “Paint the second bedroom,” I knew exactly what to do for the next stage of Operation Seduce Romi!

“Let’s do that now!” I’d suggested. It had seemed like a fun idea at the time and a great way to show Romi that we had similar interests and that I could easily fit into his life.

Romi had looked great in his coveralls, and I couldn’t stop myself from secretly checking out his ass when he wasn’t looking. I was pretty sure he was doing the same to me. I had been really enjoying myself just getting to spend time with him and painting the room. Everything felt so comfortable between us until he took his T-shirt off.

What a sight! It had been impossible for me not to become distracted by his glorious abs. I’d just stared at him, unable to look away from his chest. I couldn’t help it; it was right in front of my face. Fuck me, the man was built! I had seen his chest before, of course. We had been swimming together in the past, but I had never been able to be up that close to him and see it in such detail. I knew his abs were sexy; I called him Mr Sexy Abs, after all, but dear god, he was bloody magnificent.

It had been almost impossible to drag my gaze from his body, but I’d made a valiant attempt, and in a bid to break the tension I felt brewing between us, I had teased him by dabbing some paint on his face. He’d laughed and reciprocated in kind, which egged me on. Feeling bolder, I had taken my brush and very deliberately painted the left pec of that glorious chest. Ooh, I had so wanted to lick or bite it. Instead, I bit my lip to avoid doing that, not feeling quite bold enough.

Then he’d kissed me, and holy hell! My toes had curled, and my core clenched and gushed, dampening my knickers. My heart literally sang as all of my dreams came to fruition, and we finally kissed. And it was absolutely fantastic. My dreams had never done the man justice. I’d clung to him, and just as I had when we danced, I felt his desire for me pressing against my stomach, and I’d moaned at the taste of him.

And that’s where it all went wrong. Romi had suddenly stopped and backed away, looking bloody shocked and not in a good way. Then he delivered his devastating blow. He thought the wonderful kiss we had shared was a mistake. How could he say that? Nothing had ever felt so right or so good.

It had been utterly amazing. Hadn’t it? I bit my lip in doubt. Had I misread the situation? Hadn’t he liked the kiss after all? Wasn’t it good enough? I’d only ever been kissed a couple of times before, and those kisses felt nothing like kissing Romi. I’d thought it was a great kiss, but maybe I was wrong. Perhaps my inexperience showed, and he hadn’t found the kiss quite as devastating as I had.

A small sob escaped, and I covered my mouth, determined not to let out another. A single tear ran down my face, and I blinked rapidly. I would not cry. Not in front of Romi. I’d made enough of a fool of myself already.

No, I chastised myself. I hadn’t made a fool of myself at all. I refused to believe I had misread things, and I refused to believe Romi didn’t enjoy that kiss as much as I had. I glanced at him. He was gripping the metal steering wheel so hard I thought it was about to bend with the pressure he was exerting, and he was frowning intensely. His left hand came up, and he scratched at the back of his neck, which was a gesture I was familiar with. It was his tell, the thing he did whenever he was nervous or unsure of himself.

Suddenly, it dawned on me that the problem wasn’t that the kiss wasn’t good; it was the opposite. The kiss had been great, and it had scared Romi. That was the problem. He wanted me, I knew he did, but he didn’t want to want me. While that hurt like hell, it gave me hope. Romi had said it was a mistake because that was what he believed, but I refused to let that be the case.

As we pulled into the driveway of our home, I finally broke the silence, saying in a quiet voice.

“Our kiss wasn’t a mistake, Romi. I refuse to believe that. It was amazing, and you know it.”

He sighed and shook his head, looking exhausted all of a sudden.

“I’m sorry, Sonia, but the kiss was a mistake, and you need to forget it ever happened. It won’t happen again,” he said firmly, still refusing to look at me.

I started to protest. “No, Sonia. Forget about it!” he said, and this time, he did turn to look at me. His look was so cold that the words I was about to say froze in my throat. He might have loved our kiss as much as I had, but he didn’t want to, and that realisation tore at my soul.

As soon as he parked outside of the house, I jumped out and ran inside. I sprinted straight up to my bedroom and threw myself down on my bed just as the tears started to flow. Romi’s words and his rejection had wounded me badly. I lay there sobbing, completely devastated and feeling like my heart was bleeding. My whole body shook as great, big, ugly tears and snot ran down my face.

Sometime later, I was finally all cried out. With nothing left to give, my exhausted body drifted off into a restless sleep.