Page 28 of When We Meet Again

“Oh. I’m so sorry. I heard about what happened. I only met him a few times. He never wanted to come on family trips. He was so quiet...” Her voice trails off. “I’m sorry he hurt you. Would you like me to get Roman?”

I take a deep breath in the mirror, finally looking at my reflection. Not just looking, but admiring. Yes, I’m getting older, but we all are. And the best part is that with age comes hidden strength.

We could die tomorrow but have no control over any of it. Tom was right. If you let go of the fear, you give yourself the freedom tobe,and happiness will follow.

“Miss?”

“Emily, call me Waverly.” I turn to her. “Emily, what’s your biggest fear?”

She looks at me with her brows pinched, almost confused, but then her face relaxes. “My biggest fear is never finding my twin sister.

“What happened to her?” I can’t help but be drawn in by her look of determination.

“We were separated at birth, or so my adoptive parents told me.”

I nod at her, willing her to continue, a welcomed distraction from my own life. “Our birth parents were too young to take care of us and gave us up. We were adopted by two different families.” She lets out a sigh. “I’ve tried everything short of hiring a private investigator to find her, but they’re way too expensive.” Emily covers her mouth again. “I’m so sorry. Youasked and I got carried away. You’re really easy to talk to, Miss Ken—Waverly”

I pull her into a hug. Nothing like hugging a stranger on a plane. “Don’t apologize for your feelings,” I tell her, gently tapping her back as she lets go of a sob.

“It’s healthy to feel things, you know? It also helps to let them out when you feel the need.” We release each other. “I hope you find your sister.” I smile.

“I hope you heal,” she says, wiping the mascara from under her eyes. “I like you. Roman never brings women on the family plane.” My heart warms at her words.

“I like you, too, Emily.” I grab a tissue and dab it under my eyes as another knock comes from the door. Emily goes to answer it, but I hold her back. This is a perfect situation to have a little fun with Roman. I hold up my finger, telling her to wait.

We answer “yes” together and giggle.

“Are youbothin there?” Roman asks through the door.

“Seems to be that way, Rome,” I answer almost seductively, knowing where his head is. He’s a single man in his early- to mid-twenties. He may have a good head on his shoulders and a successful business, but he can still succumb to thinking with his little head—or I bet it’s big…really, really big.

If I know him at all, he’s having an inner conflict. To open the door or not open the door, that’s his question. “Kensi, I’m trying really fucking hard to behave right now…”

I answer, playing dumb. “Trying hard?Hardfor what?”

He groans on the other side of the door before we hear a thump on the wood. That was definitely his head. Emily is covering her mouth, holding in a giggle. I wish I had a sister. We could’ve teased boys. Messed with them because it’s so easy to rile them up. could have laughed at their expense. Respectfully, of course.

“Just find me when you’re done.” We hear a door close, and we release the laughs we’d been holding in.

We leave shortly after. I hear her tell Roman that I still need a moment to “de-stress.” God bless her. Once I do a few rounds of box breathing, I exit the bathroom. The size of this entire layout has me forgetting that I’m on a plane.

I go to find Roman, trying not to look too hard. I’m in awe of this young lady in front of me, so I ask her to sit with me and tell me about her life. Emily’s an art major who is only working to pay for her small apartment in West L.A. She’s from the Philippines and came to America with her adopted family a few weeks after she was born. She’s so fascinating. I’d love to introduce her to Tom. I can imagine the conversation between them—two creatives.

“I’d better get back to work, Waverly,” she beams. “But thank you. I feel like someone finally gives a shit about me.”I feel that in my soul.

I decide I’m finally ready to grace Roman with my presence. So like any good guest, I go looking for my host. I lightly knock on the bedroom door, pressing my ear against it. Nothing. I open it slowly and peek in, finding an empty bed. I step in and close the door behind me.“Where could he have?—”

I stop talking at the sound of his voice coming from the bathroom. In a perfect world where humans have zero curiosity, I would leave the bedroom. But I don’t. I walk toward the bathroom and peek into the slightly ajar door. Roman is in the shower, facing away from me. His arm in front of him moving in a repetitive motion.

My cheeks heat at the thought of him pleasuring himself, and I feel desire pooling between my legs. It’s been so long since I’ve been touched, or even touched myself, I rub my legs together trying to get some type of relief, but it’s no use.

The sound of slapping on his wet skin is making me lightheaded, and my tongue darts out to my bottom lip like it’s subconsciously priming itself for duty.I have to get out of here before I do something I’ll regret.I turn to leave, but the sound of his voice stops me in my tracks.

“Oh, fuck,” he growls, throwing his other hand above his head onto the brown marbled tile. His head falls forward. “Waverly.” My name escapes him as he breathes heavily. Another groan follows, and all possible mid-life crisis feelings aside, I’m ready to behadby Roman Huxley.

CHAPTER 17

ROMAN

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