Page 25 of Wicked Waters

Propping myself up on my elbows, I focused on the lines glistening on my skin. It was difficult to make it out at first, but I eventually got it.

The word he’d written?

Mine.

14

ROMAN

Quinn’s fucking phone interrupted what was supposed to be our time to have an uninterrupted conversation.

“Hello?” She listened intently to whoever the intruder was on the other end, biting down on her pouty lower lip as she glanced over at me. “No, it’s okay. I can come. I’ll be there as quickly as I can.” When the call ended, she sighed. “Sorry. That was Pen. There’s a committee meeting for the May ball. I forgot.”

My brows rose. “You’re on the committee?”

“No…well, I guess I am now. Penelope’s trying to help me fit back in.” Her voice grew quieter. “It’s hard, coming back, trying to find a place to fit in again after being away for so long.”

My stomach lurched at the implication. Yeah, I hadn’t rolled out the welcome mat, and because of that, she’d probably had a harder time than necessary.

She deserved it, remember.

But then I’d done the unforgivable thing.

Maybe it was time to draw a line in the sand and find out where she stood. “Before you go, I want to know something, and I want you to give me an honest answer. What do you want to happen here? With us?”

She was silent for a long time, and then she sighed. “There is no ‘us,’ Roman. How can there be? Okay, there’s clearly some…attraction between us. I won’t deny that. But I can’t—it can’t happen. Even if there were no external obstacles, can you really see us getting past everything that’s happened recently?”

It took everything in me to keep my voice even. “I thought…I thought when we talked, you might understand. You might tell me why you fucking ghosted me and then just strolled back into my life like nothing was wrong. Apart from the whole telling me I wasn’t fucking good enough for you and you didn’t want me to go anywhere near you. You still haven’t even given me an explanation for why you said that.”

“So what?” Her voice rose. “Are you going to give me a satisfactory reason for why you left me in the middle of the fucking ocean?”

Fuck. “I don’t have a reason! I think my drink was spiked when I got back to the lighthouse?—”

She physically recoiled from me as if I’d slapped her, instantly cutting off my words. “Don’t give me your fucking excuses. I don’t want to hear them. This was a mistake. You’re a mistake.” She covered her mouth with a trembling hand, her eyes filling with tears. “I wish…I really wish things were different. But they’re not. Like I said, we need to stay away from each other, and even if that wasn’t the case, too much has happened between us. You must see that. You must see why I can’t forgive you for the boat.”

You’re a mistake. I can’t forgive you.

She was right. I’d played my part, just as she’d played hers. She’d tainted what had been a fucking rare, special connection between us when she’d ghosted me, and I’d poisoned whatever was left with everything I’d done since she returned to Hatherley Hall.

“Yeah,” I said quietly. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Please. Listen to me. Let’s just stay out of each other’s way from now on.” She zipped up her raincoat with shaky fingers, and I made no mention of the fact that she was still wearing my hoodie, that she still had my mark branded across her soft skin.

“Yeah.” It was all I could say.

She nodded once and then turned to leave. When she reached the door, she paused, her back to me. “Just so you know, I don’t hate you. I should, and I’ve tried, but I can’t hate you, Roman.”

When the door closed behind her, I bit down on my lip so hard that I tasted blood.

“I can’t hate you, either,” I said.

A long, hot shower did nothing to improve my dark mood. I was restless, pacing up and down my room, my fists clenched, trying to talk myself out of doing something completely fucking inadvisable. Something destructive. Why shouldn’t I? I’d already been kicked off the swimming and diving teams, and they’d been the only things that brought me any fucking joy.

“Uh-oh, I recognise that face.”

My pacing ended abruptly when Tristan barged into our shared room, his eyes full of unwarranted concern.

“Fuck off. I’m still not talking to you.”

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