Page 42 of Romeo vs Romeo

As the conversation shifted to less crucial topics, I excused myself and went to the restroom. Making sure there was nobody in any of the stalls, I replayed the recording of their conversation, hardly able to hear the words over the thundering of my own heartbeat.

This was enough to stop the entire thing. This was enough to reveal my father as a manipulative and dishonest man. It was enough to show Robert Jacobs’ conflict of interest and my father’s ability to fabricate evidence. And if I shared this with even the most amateurish blogger out there, it would set fire to my father’s empire.

I could destroy my entire family in a single message.

I could bring them down like a house of cards on a gust of wind.

Your worst mistake, Father dear, was trusting me, I thought.

My stomach turned, and I thanked all the gods that I was already in the restroom as I hurried to shut the door of my stall and leaned over the pristine toilet bowl.

CHAPTER 10

Risky Encounters

Roman

When Everett went quiet,I existed in a permanent state of worry. It was an unexpected change that took place over the course of a few short weeks, and there was no going back. My days were consumed with thoughts of Everett and his well-being. So when he stopped texting back, all the worst things crossed my mind.

On Monday evening, long after he had given me a screen-shattering sexting experience that left both me and my phone burning like the fires of Hell, Everett dropped a line.

“Got something big. Text you tomorrow.”

The need to flood him with questions soared through me, and only working a shift at Neon Nights helped to distract me from doing just that. He was probably with his parents, unable to speak to me.

I wondered what it was like to have parents who observed you so much. The Langleys must have been very controlling and demanding.

Cathy and Woody Cross, who had gotten a single baby boy twenty-four years ago and named him Roman, hardly botheredto notice him. Their part, as far as they were concerned, was done. They’d done the raw dogging and giving birth; the rest was down to the young cub. He had to survive in the wild, yell at the entire world because the world wasn’t listening, and wander around until he found his own way forward.

I didn’t know what it was like to have your parents keep track of your behaviors, monitor your movements, or suspect you might be hiding something. In truth, I considered myself lucky. What Cathy and Woody had done complied with the laws of nature much more than what the Langleys were doing to Everett.

I kept my silence that day, and I kept it the next, although Everett didn’t forget about me. He texted me on Tuesday morning to meet him by the Maine Monument on the nearest side of Central Park. Wondering if we might begin meeting on park benches to feed the ducks while exchanging briefcases, I agreed.

“Tonight at eight,” Everett texted and followed it with, “I miss you.”

Those three little words that few people had ever said to me filled my heart to bursting. He missed me. Knowing it was enough to freeze my lips in a secretive half-smile for the rest of the day.

When I reached the USS Maine Monument, I sat on the steps facing the street. The city was alive with the evening rush, cars streaming past with headlights cutting through the dusk. Central Park’s canopy of trees loomed behind me, their leaves just starting to turn fiery shades of red and gold. The grand façades of the buildings along Columbus Circle were bathed in the soft, golden glow of streetlights, creating a striking contrast against the deepening blue of the sky. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of autumn leaves and distant food carts. There, drawing my eye like he was made of pure magic, was Everett.Even with the hood of his hoodie concealing most of his head, I recognized him from a distance.

I hopped up and tucked my hands into my pockets. My body nearly rebelled against my mind, wanting to leap forward and kiss him, but I reminded myself that this was where he lived. Right here, where we had protested just last week, when I had no clue Everett was up in the sky, able to see us.

He walked quickly and with a clear purpose. When he reached the bottom of the stairs before the Maine Monument, he didn’t stop. Instead, he grabbed my face with both hands and pressed his lips hard against mine. This riveting, explosive kiss shattered the restraints I’d had in place, and my hands slipped out of my pockets, clinging to his black jacket.

Everett’s brow pressed against mine as our lips parted. “I needed this,” he whispered.

I murmured my agreement, opening my eyes and looking into his. He was so handsome and growing more beautiful every time I saw him. The thing was, whenever I saw him, he was mine a little more. And I belonged to him. It didn’t freak me out to admit it. I belonged to him unquestioningly.

“Do you want to come up?” he asked, a smile touching his lips with just enough cheekiness that my heart leaped.

But the thought was ridiculous. “What about…?”

“They’re away,” he said. “They’re upstate with Robert and Hilary Jacobs.”

I held on to his jacket a little longer. “It’s risky,” I said.

“You could see my room,” Everett said, something naughty creeping into his voice.

My heart was on fire, but I still held on to some lingering trace of reason. “Isn’t that how they caught your friend?”

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