Page 72 of A Little Broken

“Maybe we should…walk around the side to go for a dip in the hot tub,” I suggest. “You know, instead of going inside. It feels weird.”

“You don’t want to borrow one of the spare swimsuits?”

“Do I need one?” I tease.

He tilts his head, his eyes rolling over me. “God, I hope not.”

I laugh. “And you say you’re a gentleman.”

His low, throaty chuckle joins mine. It’s a reminder of exactly how charismatic this man is as he lifts his hands into the air. “I promise I’ll keep my hands to myself. Shall we?” He glances at the house again, then turns to me and presses his hand to my spine, guiding me around back. Crickets cut through the sound of the ocean as we make our way around the side of the house until the balcony comes into view. The hot tub’s cover is already off as steam twists into the night air, looking far more enticing than I’ve ever seen it, which is saying something.

Did he plan to bring someone here tonight?

Probably.

It should bother me, and maybe it would if I wasn’t so desperate to erase last weekend, but it only spurs me on. At least he knows how to have a proper one-night-stand with no strings attached. Unlike someone else I know.

Don’t think about him.

Pulling my hair over one shoulder, I give Roman an innocent look. Catching the hint, he moves closer, unzipping the dress and exposing my back.

Just like always, an image of Archer flashes through my mind. Not just like always, an image Pax follows it. I shove both pictures aside, along with the familiar guilt accompanying them, and let the dress fall to my feet. In nothing but my white thong and matching bra, I dip my toe into the water. Heat licks up myskin, leaving goosebumps in its wake, and I sigh in appreciation before slipping the rest of the way in. It feels good. The burn. Reminding me I’m alive. I’m here.

Even though he isn’t.

As I paste a smile on my face, Roman approaches me. The man’s built like a linebacker. Broad shoulders, rippling muscles, and the promise of bad decisions. The sight is almost enough to dull Rory’s words in the back of my mind.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Rory warns, “but you’ve basically decided to cope with your lack of emotional intimacy by jumping into bed with any hot guy who says he’s interested.”

Well, would you look at that. She’s right again.

Oblivious to my mental ping-pong game, Roman climbs into the hot tub and places his arms along the back, appearing every bit like the king of the underworld should.

I look back at the dark house. Or at least, it should be dark. One of the windows is lit. The music room, I think. I could’ve sworn I turned it off.

Didn’t I?

I dip a little further beneath the water’s surface, attempting to hide in the shadows.

“Is your friend home?” I ask.

“Does it matter?” Roman challenges. “It’s only me and you out here.”

Me and him.

Also, not an answer, but I need my brain to stop freaking out more than my next breath, so I let it go.

Just do it, Tate. Get him out of your head.

Getbothof them out of your head.

Forcing my body to relax, I shift closer to Roman as the hot water bubbles around us. “So, are you going to kiss me or what?”

“I promised I’d keep my hands to myself,” he reminds me. His attention falls to my mouth. “Though you are making itdifficult.” His eyes flick to something behind him. “It’s a shame you’re taken.”

My brows furrow. “What?”

Lights turn on, and I squeeze my eyes shut in an attempt to ease the sting from the contrast. Blinking slowly, I let my eyes adjust before finding a very attractive, very unreadable Paxton.

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