Page 46 of Forever and Ever

Rome finishes his drink and sets it down with a thud as I slide a mug of coffee across the counter to him.

It makes me wonder what Rome found on the other side of his own pain. Because I know it’s there, hidden beneath the demons that paint his skin. Secrets, a past, hurt, trailing so deep it’s made it impossible for him to see anything beyond it.

Was it whatever his dad did to him? Was it his mom he never mentions? Was it a girl who broke his heart before we ever met him?

“I want you to be happy, man,” Rome says, with the glimpse of genuine care.

“Appreciated. But maybe you’re right. What if it’s never worth it?”

“In that case,” Rome gestures his coffee toward his living room. “You fill your time with groupies and strippers.”

I shake my head and laugh. “Perks of the business.”

“Damn right it is,” Rome says. “I might be a drunken idiot half the time, but I know you haven’t taken any of the chicks up on their offers lately. You just need to get laid. Work this shit out of your system.”

“Maybe.”

I haven’t fucked anyone since the night the tour ended, and it’s been even longer than that since sex meant anything. But even though I’ve had opportunities when I’ve gone out with Rome and Adrian, Merry being in my house fucks with my head. I can’t seem to get there, no matter how much I know I probably should.

“I’m having a party this weekend.” Rome circles the island and slaps a hand on my shoulder. “Come, enjoy, let loose.”

“Aren’t you having a party every day of the week?”

Rome shakes his head. “Not like this. Promise, it’ll be worth it. You just need to get balls deep in some chick and all these problems will go away.”

“Whatever you say, man.”

Maybe for him, it really is that easy. Letting someone ride your dick to forget. But this is Merry we’re talking about. She’s not just in my home, she’s managed to reach places that didn’t exist inside me before I met her.

She’s taken up residence, and I don’t want her to leave, even if it rots me to the core.

14

Merry

I’msuchabitch.

The worst.

The closer Noah gets, the more I push him away. As proven by the fact that I’m letting this random guy stick his tongue further down my throat in an attempt to forget my problems.

“You’re fucking hot,” random guy says, as his hand slides up my sides and under the hem of my cropped black T-shirt.

He told me his name—something that sounded like Tim or Jim or who cares. I don’t give a fuck. It’s not like I ever plan on calling this guy or seeing him again.

I’m not even sure where Rome found all these people.

His house is packed, and the music is blaring. We’re an hour outside the city, but even that didn’t thin the crowd. Not that I should be surprised.

While every member of Enemy Muse has a home outside of Denver, Rome’s house isn’t like the rest of them. It’s one hundred percent a bachelor pad and built specifically for parties like this. He has two stripper poles permanently fixed in the middle of his living room and there’s a full bar in his kitchen. If I took a trip down the hallway, I’m pretty sure I’d find more than a few occupied bedrooms.

It’s chaos.

It’s crazy.

It’s Rome’s life.

“Let’s find a quiet room,” the guy says to me, leaning in a little closer so I can feel his breath on my ear.

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