Page 29 of Clueless Romeo

The tiny bathroom was filled with steam, and the mirror so fogged it was opaque. I was grateful because I couldn't look myself in the eye anyway. Self-loathing was a real thing and currently lurking in my veins.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and was relieved Caleb's bedroom door was closed with the sound of some sports channel playing on his TV. Listening to him complain about my lack of clothes was not something I could deal with at the moment. I'd forgotten to grab them in my haste to lock myself in the bathroom to escape…everything.

Once I was in my room with the door closed behind me, I headed for my closet and rifled through my clothes. Still waffling over how to approach my dilemma. I could change into a pair of lounge pants and a t-shirt and avoid Roman for the rest of my life, or I could toss on street clothes and face the problem head-on. I gnawed on my lip.

Finally, I ended the debate with a resigned sigh as I tugged a pair of jeans and a t-shirt from their hangers. I wasn't moving any time soon, and I'd run into him at some point. It was frustrating that this marked the second time in just a few days I wished I could take something back when it came to Roman. Where was my self-control? Or the discipline I'd had beaten into my head as an athlete?Missing in action, apparently.

There was nothing left to do but deal with the situation.

After slipping on my clothes and coat, I grabbed my phone and keys before heading downstairs. My heart hammered in my chest, and nerves zipped with anxiety, pleading for me to turn around and go back to my room. And tonevercome out again.

Before I could change my mind, I strode outside and locked up. Standing in front of Roman's door, I hesitated. The lights inside were off, so I couldn't see anything. Maybe he wouldn't answer, and all my problems would be solved. For the night anyway.

I snorted to myself. With the way my day had gone, that was highly unlikely.

Sucking up my pride, I rapped on the glass door and listened as footsteps pounded the floor like a ton of bricks. Okay, that was dramatic, but they matched the quick thumping of my heart.

At the sound of the lock disengaging, I swallowed hard and then pasted on a smile when Roman swung open the door. His hair was damp, a little wilder, and darker than usual, and fuck if I didn't love the look on him. My tongue grew heavy in my mouth as I pictured him in the shower, soaking wet and running soap over his skin. The only thing stronger than the instant magnetic pull I felt toward him were the nerves racing through my body.

He flashed his usual cocky grin, appearing normal, as if nothing had changed.

I scrutinized his features, searching for a hint of awkwardness, and found none. Hell, maybe I'd been wrong and had been stressing for no reason. Hadn't he noticed how affected I'd been by his touch? Was that a possibility?

Either way, I relaxed when he waved me inside and asked, "Can I take your coat?"

"Sure, thanks." I stepped into the entry and slid it from my shoulders.

Roman held out his hand, took the garment, and hung it on an old-fashioned yet somehow modern coat rack.

He reached around me and relocked the door, a move that brought the crisp smell of the fresh body wash to my nose. I held my breath, but it was too late. The damage was done.

He smelled like I wanted him to fuck me.

Was that a thing? I gave my head a mental shake, sure that it wasn't.

"Come on back." He grinned, and more tension bled away.

"Sure, lead the way." With a nod, I stuffed my hands in my pockets.

When Roman turned, I trailed him as he led me toward a hallway. When we entered his office, he gestured to the chair in front of his desk as he circled around and sat on the opposite side. "I was in the middle of reworking my calendar, so just give me two seconds."

"No problem." As he tapped on the keyboard, I quickly scanned his office. Much like the lobby, the walls were decorated with black-and-white photos, and the furniture was all black steel and glass. What caught my attention the most was the tall bookshelf that sat in the corner. Curious, I tilted my head and glanced back at him. "You're a reader?"

Roman nodded absently, not looking away from the screen. "When I can find the time. Mostly biographies. Sometimes I'll pick up a thriller if the mood strikes."

Squinting, I tried to picture him curled up in a comfortable chair or lounging in bed with a book on his lap. "I never would have guessed," I admitted.

"You know what they say about assuming." He shot me a grin and then swiveled the monitor to face me. "Meet Nate Michaels."

More so now, after how the day had gone, I wasn't interested in the guy smiling back at me from the screen. Roman hadn't exaggerated, though. The man was hot, I supposed.

But his eyes were green, not stormy-blue. His hair was dark instead of golden blond. He wasn't…Cupid.

Oh, for fuck's sake. I berated myself when I realized his perceived flaws were only because he wasn't the man sitting across from me.

With that realization, I forced myself to hopefully appear interested by leaning closer with my arms propped on the glass. I read Nate's profile more closely. Roman had already shared some of the details with me. Other details were new.

Roman's chair squeaked as he leaned back. "So, what do you think?"

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