Chapter 22
I wake to bliss —I’m lying in Romeo’s arms—and torment —someone is pounding the shit out of our hotel door. We both sit up at the same time, but Romeo jumps out of bed first.
“Fuck. That has to be one of them.” His shocked eyes travel around the room. “Take care of the bathroom. I’ll get the couch.”
He wrestles with the couch while I pick up towels on my way to the bathroom. I yank my damp bra and panties then his boxers off the shower rod. After a tame—compared to earlier in the night—make out session until the water got cold, we both changed then fell into an exhausted snuggle. The thought of Sam or Justin showing up in the morning didn’t cross our minds. Now it’s on our minds. Big time.
The addition of shouting reveals Sam is the one pounding on the door.
After shoving damp underwear still wet in my bag, I ask Romeo, “You ready?”
He dives onto the open couch. “You’d better not let him see you in those PJ’s for more than two seconds.”
I roll my eyes and go to the door. My fingers play with the chain longer than necessary. “What the hell? Is the mafia after you?” I mumble, opening the door.
“Whoa,” Sam says with a whistle. “I like the little nightie thing.”
“Shut up,” I say, stepping into the bathroom. “It’s shorts.”
While I brush my teeth and get dressed, I can hear Sam exclaiming something about a hot tub, something about a hot drummer, and something about Romeo being gay. My vote is a definite no on that one.
They’re watching TV when I get out of the bathroom. Romeo’s still lying on the folded out bed and Sam is sitting on the edge of the king bed. He frowns at my sweatshirt and jeans. “I liked the nightie better or maybe that outfit from last night.”
Ignoring his clothing choices for me, I ask, “Where’s Justin?”
“MIA. Went home with some girl last night.” He throws a pillow at Romeo. “Get in the shower so we can go to breakfast.”
Romeo gives him the finger but gets up.
During most of breakfast, Romeo ignores me as usual. Sam flirts. Romeo looks like he wants to stab him. The diner is busy. The food greasy. I start hungry but as Romeo keeps ignoring me, I push scrambled eggs and hash browns around my plate.
Romeo sends Sam to pay the bill then leans over his plate. “I’m sorry. This is harder than I thought it would be.”
I wave my fork. “Don’t worry. I get it. But I’m going to be honest. I can only deal with the pretending crap for so long.”
Nodding, he tears open a sugar packet. “You’re not the only one.” He stirs the sugar into his coffee while studying me with darkening eyes. “Want to study together tonight?”
Studying with him in the dorm room he shares with Justin could be dangerous.
As if reading my thoughts, he says, “I could come to your house.”
Sam slides into the booth. His eyes narrow on Romeo. “Why are you going to Riley’s?”
I shove my plate away. “Because I’m close to failing Calculus.”
Sam rolls his eyes. “Ah, as usual boy genius to the rescue.”
Romeo’s only response is an eyebrow arch. Probably at the boy part.
After breakfast, we go back to the hotel and wait in the lobby for Justin to show up. We wait awhile. Romeo sends him several texts warning if he isn’t back within a certain amount of time, he’ll need to find a different ride home. Justin shows up later than all the times threatened. Looking rough with blood shot eyes, he grins at Romeo’s scowl.
The ride back isn’t much different than the ride to the gig. Sam sleeps on me. Romeo and Justin talk band business in the front.
Romeo drops me off first. The house is empty. My mother left a note on the counter about her and Jamie going to the library then to dinner. Sunday’s are the one day my mother still acts like a mother. Well sort of. Cooking seems to be beyond her skill set of late.
Later when I’m in the laundry room off the kitchen trying to catch up on the mountain of dirty clothes that grew over night, I get a text from Romeo about coming over in an hour.
I stare at the text like it’s an alien life form. Though we all have each other’s numbers since we’re all in a band together, I’ve never called or texted any of them. Especially Romeo. The sight of his name over the text brings reality to me more than last night, more than this morning. I’m seeing Romeo. As in dating. As in possible boyfriend. As in holy hell what am I doing?
I fall on the bench below the hooks covered with raincoats and scarfs. Deep, deep down I want Romeo with an intensity that borders on insanity. But then there’s the band. The multitude of girls who hang on him. And lastly, my sorry little heart that Aaron stomped on. He may not have crushed the organ, but he sure as hell bruised it. Those bruises have almost faded away.
My fingers tap out a beat on the edge of the bench.
I’m an adult. Lately, I run a household. I’m going to be nineteen soon. I should be able to date a hot, slightly moody guitar player without falling in over my head.
Yet strangely, the fact that he doesn’t sleep around and doesn’t really date has me worried. Because of all the girls he could have, why me? What draws him to me? That I drum? That I don’t appear—even though I am—in awe of him? I’m afraid that whatever’s attracting him will soon fade away.
My fingers stop their rhythm.
I need to keep this light, fun, and carefree.
I can’t fall too hard. I can’t let it feel as deep as it already does.
***
“Ah, ha!” I say, snapping the back of the book closed. “I’m right. You’re wrong.” I flick Romeo’s paper with a finger and it falls off the counter.
He quickly shuffles to the answers in the back of the book. “Damn. That’s a first.” He snatches my paper and picks his up from the floor.
While he compares the two, I go to the fridge and fill two glasses with ice and water. Setting them down in front of our mess on the counter, I smirk at his wrinkled brow. “Figure out where you screwed up yet?”
“Yeah, I forgot to take the derivative the third time.”
I feign a look of surprise and come around the kitchen island. “Genius boy forgot?”
He swivels around on the stool and pulls me between his legs by the belt loops of my jeans. “Did you just call me a boy?”
A grin explodes across my mouth. “I believe I did.”
He removes the grin off my lips with a hard, deep kiss. “Did that feel like a boy?”
I brace my hands on his thighs. “That felt very manly. And pretty damn hot,” I add, inching closer to him.
He groans and drops his forehead to mine. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Should I answer that?”
He shakes his head. “Not when we’re in a house alone.”
I drown in the lustful thoughts that flip-flop between our gazes, but my mother and sister could come home at any second. “Should I call you Justin now? When were alone at least?”
“Ah no. After living with Justin for over two years, I like Romeo better.” His hands tighten at my waist. “We should tell the guys. Hiding like this…I feel disrespectful to you and to them.”
The mood suddenly changes with those words. I step back and sit on the stool while he watches me. “Today sucked, but usually the only time I’m around is at practice.” I slide my textbook closer to the edge of the counter. “I think you were right last night. Let’s wait it out and see how things go. There’s no reason to get everyone riled up before anything’s… real.”
His dark eyes pin me to my stool. “This feels real.”
Under the intensity of his stare, I’m wondering how to respond to that when the door to the garage opens. “Romeo’s here,” Jamie squeals.
I introduce him to my mother while Jamie bounces around him. While she is polite, my mother seems disinterested which is totally different from the way she acted when I brought Aaron home for the first time. She hovered and questioned with Aaron. She’s almost dismissive with Romeo. I’m not sure if her indifference is because I’m technically an adult or if she can’t care about anything outside of her bubble of depression, but her reaction bothers me.
Jamie brings her DS to the kitchen. My mother, seeing we’re studying, takes her upstairs for a movie. Thankfully the seriousness that hovered between Romeo and I is absent as we finish going over the sections for tomorrow’s quiz.
Near ten o’clock, I walk him to his van parked in the street. After he tosses his books inside, he reaches for my wrist, but I step back. “I wouldn’t do that here.”
He cocks his head in question and that angled fringe of hair falls over his eye.
“Marcus lives across the street two houses down. And though he’s at the dorm, his family might see and say something.”
He lifts his chin as his jaw tightens. “So we’re going with the dirty little secret thing?”
“Though I don’t like this pretending crap, I’m just not ready to deal with Justin and Sam yet.”
His expression is conflicted, but he says, “Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I go to the sidewalk and wave to him as he drives away. I actually don’t want to deal with Sam or Justin, but the truth is I’m not ready to make Romeo and me official yet.