Page 64 of Say It Slowly

Oh, damn.I’m pleasantly surprised. He definitely wasn’t on my bingo card for tonight. But Roman is here, and he must know that. I wonder if he has some kind of death wish.

Sounds like an Ash problem,my mind immediately supplies. Maybe he saw Roman walk in with Jen, and figures I’m now up for grabs? Either way, I’m glad he found me, and I smile up at him.

Fuck. Roman. Rush.

I move against Ash, and he slides his hands down my waist to my ass, pulling it against him as I move to the rhythm, mouthing the words to the song.

I’m dripping with sweat, gasping for air, and completely out of breath when he finally pulls me off the stage and tugs me into the kitchen, where they have cheap water bottles buried in a cooler. Ash pulls one out and hands it to me.

“Thanks,” I say, taking it and cracking the cap open. I guzzle half the bottle, before offering the rest to him. He takes it with a smile, drains the rest, and then tosses the bottle in the sink with a bunch of other empties.

The music is still really loud in here, so he leans down and yells in my ear, “Let’s go outside and get some air.”

Despite the ice-cold water, I’m still sweating, so I nod, grateful one of us is thinking straight. On our way out, though, I grab the second whiskey I left next to the stage.

And as we move through the house, on our way outside, I can’t help it, my gaze scans the crowd, looking for Roman. I find him easily. He’s the guy at the center of about thirty people. This must be why he only really parties with his own people, because, otherwise, he’s swarmed like a fucking celebrity. I’m thankful for the swarm of people, though, because he’s so busy talking to them that he doesn’t even see Ash and me walk by.

Cold air washes over me the second we’re outside, and I pull it into my lungs. After being inside the house, where it’s packed with people, the fresh air feels nice.

I suck in another lungful of air as Ash turns toward me. He notices the red solo cup in my hands and grabs for it, but I pull it away before he can take it. “Ah, ah. This isn’t for you,” I say. “Get your own. This is for Wyn.”

I glance around at the people standing out on the small patio. Beyond the railing, about a hundred feet away, is the ocean. Waves crash in the distance, and even though we’re so close tothe beach, we’re on a cliff, so there’s no direct access to the sand.

I hear Wyn before I see her. Her laugh is distinct, loud, and boisterous, full of amusement. It’s what I like most about her,actually. She is who she is, and she doesn’t ask permission. She has a genuine “zero fucks given” attitude that IwishI had. Mine is manufactured. I have to force myself to give zero fucks, unless whiskey is involved, apparently.

What’s weird is that she’s a part of the Sacred Son’s inner circle, and I still haven’t figured out why. All the other girls in the Burning Crown come off as pick-me girls, but Wyn isn’t like that.

I take another look around and still don’t see her. The back patio isn’t very big, but I realize there’s a veranda above us. I walk out a ways and look up to see her leaning against the railing above us, a red solo cup in her hand. Wow, she got up there quickly. She’s surrounded by a group of people, laughing at something someone said.

I walk back over to Ash and lift the red solo cup. “She has a drink,” I say with a conspiratorial tone. “So I don’t think she’ll miss this.” I lean against one of the thick wood posts that’s holding the patio up. “Anyway, you’re brave,” I say, taking a sip from the cup. “Roman is here, you know.”

“Yeah. I saw that.” He shoves a hand into his pocket casually.

He looks positively delicious tonight. Scratch that. He looks positively delicious all the time, but tonight, he looks particularly…dashing? Is that a word people still use? He’s wearing dark jeans, and a dark Hawaiian shirt, unbuttoned halfway down his chest, exposing a dusting of light-brown hair.

“I also saw him walk in with another chick…” he says, hesitating over the words. “So I figured you were probablyunencumbered.” He laughs at the last word like he’s trying to cleverly ask if Roman and I have broken up.

“Well, I’ve never beencumbered, so…” I say drunkenly.

He laughs. “Someone should have told Roman that because he definitely staked his claim on you.”

I nod and take another sip of my drink. “Yeah, Roman and I fundamentally disagree on that. But—” I spread my arms wide“—as you said, he came here with someone else, so I guess that means he got the message. Better late than never.”

My chest hurts just thinking about it, and even now, drunk, standing with a really hot guy, the fact that Roman has moved on to someone else—and so damn quickly—feels like an ice-pick to the chest.

I suck in a sharp breath and swallow hard to keep myself from crying. Wyn said he was probably just trying to prove something, and Lucas said the same thing. But do I really want to be in a situationship with someone who is this fucking toxic?

No. No, I don’t.

I want easy, fun. Like Ash, maybe. I mean, why not? He’s hot, and he’s sweet, and he’s obviously into me.

My phone rings, and when I pull it out of my waistband, I see it’s Roman. So much for ignoring me, I guess. I decline the call, but he calls again. Andagain.

Ash laughs. “You’d better answer it. Whoever it is, they’re determined to talk to you.”

Story of my life when it comes to Roman.

The next time my phone rings, I accept the call. “I’m busy,” I say stiffly, hyper-aware that Ash is watching me. If he knows it’s Roman calling me, then it might spook him, so I try to sound casual.

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