Page 11 of Worth the Trouble

He shakes his head. “No, I already know you don’t have a boyfriend.”

“How’s that?”

“Let’s just say I’ve got a sense about these things.”

I roll my shoulders back. “Whatever you say.”

“Am I wrong?”

Without even looking at him, I feel him smiling. He knows he’s not wrong, I’m just not sure how he does, so I don’t bother responding.

“Now, about that date...” Rome drags the word out.

“Who says I have a date?” I’m not sure why I keep entertaining him with questions, but they spill out like he’s hooked me up to some kind of machine that drags the reservations from my bones.

Rome eats up the space in front of me and stops so suddenly I almost run into his chest. “You could.”

I tip my chin up and try to hold onto my resolve. “Maybe I do.”

It’s a flat-out lie. I can’t remember the last time I even went on a date. Six months ago, maybe? I haven’t wanted to since…him.

Besides, I’ve got bigger things to worry about than another person’s feelings. But Rome doesn’t need to know any of that.

“Then ditch them,” Rome says nonchalantly. “Hang out with me.”

“You want to be my date?”

He laughs, but it’s darker this time. “Sorry, sweetheart. I don’t date. But it doesn’t mean we can’t have a little fun.”

I’m not sure why I’m even still talking to him. Every assumption I’ve had about Rome since the moment I plowed into him is proved true each time he opens his mouth. He clearly thinks something of himself and has no problems flaunting it.

“Charming.” I frown. “But I’m going to pass.”

“You’re not attracted to me?” He forces a pout that’s so fake I can see his grin buried in it.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Good to know you are then.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t disagree either.” He cocks an eyebrow, and I swear his eyes darken. “I’ll accept the compliment.”

“I’m sure you will.” I purse my lips, biting back much more I’d love to say.

A pang deep in my stomach starts to ache, and I hope it doesn’t show on my face as I clench my jaw and bury it.

“So about tonight?” Rome leans closer and even though we’ve been standing a foot apart, my head swims at the sudden nearness. He smells like apples and spice. Like the edge of fall and winter when the earth cools and your body craves the warmth of a fading summer. The thought alone is enough to make me shiver. “Promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

He’s so close I feel his breath at my ear, tickling my skin. And even if I make a living dancing with men on stage, the static from Rome reminds me just how long it’s been since I’ve really felt another human being.

I turn my face to his, and I swear there are mere inches between my mouth and his full lips. I expect him to pull back, to give me space, but he stays in my bubble and smiles. He swallows and the bob of the third eye on his throat watches me.

There’s nothing reserved or cautious about a man like Rome. He invades everything he touches and demands to be noticed.

A car horn blares nearby, and it makes me jump, pulling me from whatever trance I’m lost in. I step back and take a deep breath of the cool night air, but it does nothing to replace the hint of apples lingering in my lungs.

“Have a good night, Rome.” I nod my head once, snapping my spine upright and walking past him.

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