Sweet Rome (Sweet Home, #1.5)

Snapping back to the present, metal music booming through the speakers, I said, “There was no point in fighting back. I’d learned that just made it worse.”


“So what’s up now? He still trying to stop you from entering the draft?”

“Yeah, nothing new there.” I huffed out a tired laugh. “But now he wants me to marry Shelly. I refused, of course, haven’t spoken to him since, but I know he won’t give up.” I glanced at the bottle in my hands and said, “Nothing ever changes for us, eh, brother?”

Shaking his head, Austin said, “Sometimes, Rome, I wonder how we both got such shit lives. You with all the money in the world but with the worst parents on Earth.” I actually laughed at that. “Or me, a piece of trailer trash nothing, with two dickhead brothers and a saint of a mother who can barely walk anymore.”

I tilted my bottle of beer in his direction and he clinked his against mine, no more words needing to be said.

The party carried on, most of the players scoring chicks for the night, and Jimmy-Don came back into the room finding Austin and me still on the same spot. “Guys! A group of us are heading out to a bar, you coming?”

“Your girl not going to be pissed at you if you do?” I asked with a teasing smile.

Jimmy-Don was crazy about his new girl, never shut up about the damn Texan blonde all the way to Arkansas. Apparently the chick was adventurous as all hell in bed, which I discovered after the seventh detailed explanation of their top ten sexual positions. What the fuck’s Othello’s Back Grove anyway?

“Hell no! Cass’d probably kick my ass if I didn’t go out and drink, and she knows I wouldn’t stray.”

I believed him. He was a good guy.

“Gonna pass,” I said. “I think I’ll just head back to the hotel.”

Bending down, Jimmy-Don pressed his hand against my head once again. “Seriously, Bullet, are you sick? For real? First, no women in weeks and now, refusing to go to a bar? You’re Invasion of the Body Snatchers deal is scaring the shit outta me!”

Laughing, I stood, patting him on the back. “I’m just sick of it all, man. Need to get my head down and focus. Catch you later.”

Austin came back with me, something clearly bugging him too, but we knew not to pry into each other’s problems and instead talked football all the way back to our rooms.

Once in bed, I closed my eyes, and it was Molly’s face I saw, her kiss I tasted, and sighing, I began counting down the hours until I could see her again.

I was so fucking screwed.

*

As soon as the plane hit the tarmac, the texts started. My daddy writing that he wanted to see me, needed to see me, warning me that I’d better fucking see him!

Then at six thirty in the damn morning, he called. Deciding to just answer and get his lecture over with, I greeted with a reluctant, “Daddy.”

“I’m almost at the grounds of your school. I suggest you meet me immediately. Don’t make me come looking.” My fists clenched and I almost crunched the bastard cell in my hands.

“I’ll meet you at the quad.”

Picking up my keys, I quickly left my room, almost sprinting to the quad, still wearing the same clothes I’d just traveled in. The place was deserted, too early for students to be up, but the sun was already burning hot, the campus eerily still.

Rounding the corner, it didn’t take long to spot my father’s treasured Bentley—silver, ostentatious—and I stopped on the sidewalk, right at the hood of the car.

My daddy opened his door, his suit slightly disheveled and his brown eyes tired. For a moment I faltered, thinking he was here to deliver some bad news, until I saw him grinding his teeth and knew he was here about me.

“Rome,” he greeted, folding his arms across his chest.

I hated that he was this calm and collected, his voice quiet and low. I could never predict his mood when he was like this, never knew whether to brace for a hit or if I was about to be blackmailed into doing some shit I didn’t want to.

“Daddy,” I said cautiously.

“You’ve been ignoring my calls, texts, emails.”

“I needed a break. Football has been intense, and school is only getting crazier the closer I get to graduation. And I know you still want me to marry Shelly and didn’t want to argue about it anymore.” His eyes ignited some at that.

“Damn right I want this marriage.” He took a step closer, but at six foot three, I towered above him. “Look, I need you to marry her. I need to keep the business between the two families.”