I rocked my hips and watched as his eyes nearly rolled back in his head.
“You’re mine now. I bit you. Love you, Romy-poo.”
He stilled, but he didn’t pull away.
He just held me there between the wall of the garage and the wall of him.
“What?”
I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.
“You love me?”
I nodded and bit my lower lip.
“Yeah. I mean, why else would I ache when you are gone? Or come for you like fifty times? Or—”
I paused. I said the words. But what exactly was love? I loved Parks and Halle. I trusted them. I would die for them.
“I’d die for you,” I added and then he kissed me, and I realized that this parking garage might be my favorite date spot yet.
THREE
roman
Wasthis the good part of any relationship? Fuck, was this a relationship? I’d fucking proposed, so I supposed yes?
I’d kissed her because something snapped wide open inside me, and I didn’t want to fucking deal with it.
I didn’t want to deal with feelings.Should have thought about that before proposing on a damn whim.
I wasn’t being level headed. My life was suddenly a giant red flag. Hell.
It was a good thing I’d gotten out of the restaurant. The idea of that man touching what was mine? Well, I’d only deterred myself from breaking his neck then and there because of the way Parks had made some sense. I didn’t need to make an enemy out of the one remaining investor that hadn’t been causing Rossi Holdings too much trouble. Of course, this might still cross some lines.
“Where is your phone?” I asked her. She didn’t exactly answer, not right away.
Growing up, my entire life had been orderly. Everything had a place. Everything made sense. Everything had a purpose. Nothing about Emilee fit that mold and here, as I shoved Emilee and her deceivingly large dress into my small sports car, I felt it all.
I craved her chaos as much as I craved her.
“Are you in there?”
Her voice was muffled, but I assumed yes as she shifted and sorted out the thing.
“Next time, bring the dead body car,” she said as I got in.
I huffed and slammed the door.
“It’s an Escalade. I’m guessing Parks has one as well. Next time, don’t dress like a fucking cake topper.”
The seat belt she was struggling with swung back against the window with a clack.
“Just hand me the thing.”
I gripped it and pulled the belt over her.
“Why are you wearing this circus tent to impress some rich shit anyway?”