Page 134 of The Dollhouse

We talked for a little bit more, but then Carter pushed into my room, a frown on his lips. “I’m assuming what must be Wyatt’s car just pulled into the driveway,” he said. “So get your ass downstairs, because I sure as fuck am not going to play hostess for your new boyfriend.” And then he was gone, leaving me alone with that information.

He’d come back downstairs when it was time for the show. Roman, on the other hand, wanted to meet Wyatt before leaving me alone with him for a while.

To Lake, I said, “I have to go. He’s here. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck,” Lake said. “I love you. You got this.” He grinned, tiny dimples on his cheeks.

“I love you, too.” And then I hung up the phone and got up, leaving my bedroom and skipping down the steps to meet Wyatt at the front door. I was seconds from yanking the door open to greet him and invite him inside even though I was fairly certain he hadn’t made it to the door yet, but Roman appeared, looking quite the devil in his all-black suit.

“I got it,” he growled out, and I knew he would not be dissuaded from this. I stepped aside and let him take the lead, knowing I had to step carefully when it came to Roman. He wasn’t thrilled with what I wanted to do tonight, and it was a miracle I’d gotten him to agree in the first place. Roman was so…

There were a lot of ways I could’ve finished that sentence. Deliciously possessive. Unbelievably controlling. Sexy as sin and powerful as a king, willing to do whatever he had to, even if it meant getting his hands bloody. He was everything anyone in their right mind would both fear and find impossibly attractive, a god among men.

And, when he flung open the door to greet Wyatt, I knew exactly what was going through Wyatt’s head the moment he laid eyes on Roman. Wyatt was much like Lake in that he was an open book, wearing his emotions and thoughts on his sleeve… and his face.

“Um,” Wyatt spoke, swallowing hard as he craned his neck back to meet Roman’s stare. “Hello.” His voice shook somewhat, and then he seemed to realize this was the first time he was meeting Roman, for he jerked out his hand toward him in the most awkward way possible. “I’m Wyatt.”

Roman frowned, but he took Wyatt’s hand, which I was pleasantly shocked at. Maybe this wouldn’t be too strange after all—but right as I had that thought, that small sliver of hope, Roman squeezed Wyatt’s hand to the point where Wyatt’s knuckles turned white and said, “Roman. But you already knew that, didn’t you?” With every uttered word, he still held onto Wyatt’s hand, though he’d given up shaking it, at least. “After all, it’s my girl you’re hoping to fuck.”

“Roman,” I hissed out his name, stepping beside him and glaring at him. That was totally uncalled for, and by the look of it, he’d caught Wyatt completely off-guard. To Wyatt, I said, “I’m sorry about him. He’s not very nice. He’s not even nice to the people he likes.”

Wyatt let out a shaky chuckle, although the sound came out a lot more uneasy, and then I saw that Roman still held onto his hand, so tightly I’d bet anything Wyatt’s hand was close to breaking.

“Roman,” I said his name again, “that’s enough. Let go of his hand.” Scowling, Roman released his hold on Wyatt, which let Wyatt cradle his hand to his chest and wince. I asked, “Are you all right? Do you need ice or anything?” Shooting another glare towards my devil in a suit, I muttered, “I hope he didn’t hurt you too much.”

Roman said nothing, which was expected, while Wyatt sheepishly grinned at me and shook it off, saying, “I’m fine. I’m used to… handshakes so hard they cut off the circulation. Totally normal.” The more he spoke, the more I knew it was not, in fact, normal to him, and as I invited him inside the house, I tossed Roman a look I hoped saidcool it.

As I brought Wyatt into the living room, the newly-arranged room, I said, “I’m sorry about Roman. He’s… let’s just say he grows on you. Sort of.” Depending on if you didn’t piss him off, in which case he was liable to off you and take your body somewhere no one would ever find it. Kind of like Bryan’s.

Wyatt managed to laugh it off, and this laugh came off more genuine. He let his hand fall to his side, no longer cradling it like a baby against his chest, and he said, “I bet. He seems… intense.” As if to prove his point, he glanced over his shoulder and saw Roman hanging around in the hall, glaring around the corner to the living room. “You sure he’s okay with this?”

“Oh, don’t worry about him,” I said, and we both sat on the couch that was front and center in the room. My new pink speaker sat on the mantle across the room, an omen of what was to come. There was no pole here, but that was all right. I didn’t need a pole to put on a show. “He’s always grumpy. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that man smile in all the time we’ve been together.”

“And how long is that?”

“A long time” was my answer. It felt like an eternity, but in the scheme of things, it hadn’t been that long, I supposed. I’d been with Bryan longer than Roman, Carter, and Lake—which was just crazy, because it felt like I had known those three all my life. They’d helped me find who I was, the real me, and I would be forever grateful.

Wyatt let out a thoughtful noise. “Well, as long as he’s not horrible to you, I guess it’s all good.”

“He’s not.” I leaned in closer to Wyatt, adding in a whisper, “And I like it rough sometimes, anyway.” My words caused his cheeks to turn pink, and I chuckled to myself as I got up. “Let me get you something to drink. Anything in particular you’d like?”

Wyatt was still too busy blushing over what I’d just said, but he managed to say, “Water’s fine.” And then he gave me a goofy smile that did nothing to hide his blundering awkwardness.

I left him in the room, heading into the hall, where Roman stood, his arms folded and a deep, menacing expression on his face. His all-black suit helped to lend to his devilish demeanor, his black hair slicked back and his face full of dark stubble. He looked like a man you wouldn’t want to see alone in a dark alleyway, a man who could kill you without breaking a sweat.

And he could. His looks were not deceiving in that regard.

“Please tell me you’re not going to be stalking the halls all night,” I said, whispering low enough I was sure Wyatt wouldn’t hear. “When it’s time, I’ll call you both down.” It would make things ten times weirder if he and Carter hung around and listened to Wyatt’s and my conversation leading up to the show.

Things were already weird enough.

Roman frowned. “I will remain close.” He glanced down the hall, toward where it arched and opened into the room where Wyatt sat, alone and waiting for me. “I do not trust the boy. He seems… shifty.”

“Shifty?” I echoed, unable to keep the smile from growing on my face. “You’re joking, right? He is the least shifty person I’ve ever met. He’s just like Lake.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I don’t like about him.” Roman’s dark eyes narrowed at no one in particular. “Too much like Lake. I have grown… somewhat accustomed to sharing you with that one, but I will never be fine with sharing you with this boy.”

I took a step closer to him, setting a hand on his arm and causing his posture to relax a little. He didn’t drop his arms away from his chest, but I could feel him sigh beneath my touch. “You won’t have to share me with anyone else, I promise,” I told him. “Soon enough, we will be out of this stupid city and I’ll never have to think about any of these people again.”

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