Page 26 of Worth the Trouble

Opening my eyes, I realize it’s not my imagination. He’s rolling to a stop like it’s a statement. I’m not sure if he’s moving in slow motion as he peels his helmet off or if my brain is pausing on how to handle this moment because time stills.

Rome’s wearing ripped jeans, straddling a bike with so much power I swear I can still feel it between my legs. His tight T-shirt grips his biceps and shows off his ink-laced arms. He’s danger, and everything I can’t seem to stop thinking about.

His dark eyes meet mine and a smirk climbs his cheeks as he gets off his bike, sending my mom into motion. She positions herself between me and him with her shoulders pulled back.

“What do you want?”

I rush around her before Rome can open his mouth. Because in the handful of times I’ve met him, I know whatever he’ll say will just cause trouble.

“Rome, meet my mom, Katherine Chen.” I step aside and wave my hands between them. “Mom, this is Rome Moreno. You remember Eloise, who rented me this house? Rome is in her band, and she mentioned he was stopping by to fix the… the…uh…”

“Stereo?” Rome finishes, with an amused expression.

We both know it’s a lie. But anything is better than trying to explain why a tattooed rock star just showed up at my house on his motorcycle.

Why is he here, anyway?

“Yes, the stereo has been acting up,” I say, turning back to Mom. “And you know I need it for practice.”

“It seemed fine just now.” Mom glares, her gaze moving between Rome and me.

I shrug. “It’s intermittent.”

Mom mulls it over, giving Rome a final unimpressed once-over, likely deciding he’s beneath her and not worth another moment of her time, as she turns to me. “Very well. On time tonight, Lili. No excuses.”

With that, she walks away and gets in her car. No hug. No goodbye. Just my mother. It isn’t until she starts down the road that I feel my shoulders finally relax. Which is the exact moment Rome chooses to chuckle, drawing my attention back to the solid wall of muscle standing in my driveway looking like a walking distraction.

“Rome.” I narrow my eyes at him, crossing my arms over my chest.

He dips his thumbs in his pockets and scans me over, making me realize I’m standing in front of him in nothing more than a cropped tank, skin-tight shorts that might as well be underwear, and leg warmers. Not unusual attire for a dancer, but around him, I feel completely exposed.

“Afternoon, sweetheart.” He grins.

“Still—”

“Not my sweetheart, I know. Keep telling yourself that.” He winks at me.

Jerk.

“Why are you here?” I turn to walk back into the house, only realizing my mistake when Rome follows me and closes the door behind him.

Nothing good can come of spending time alone with him. It feels too good when it shouldn’t.

“I’m fixing your stereo.” He leans against the wall and crosses one ankle over the other, watching me circle the kitchen to grab some water.

“We both know it doesn’t actually need fixing.” I take a long sip, hoping it can cool the fire in my chest.

Rome grins. “Your plumbing then? Need someone to clear out your pipes?”

“Is everything an innuendo with you?”

He shrugs, not answering.

Outside, his eyes were almost golden, but under the dim kitchen lights, the darkness drinks the gold.

I take another sip of water and wish Rome would blink or look away because his gaze is intense enough that it’s difficult to stare at him for too long. As if he reads my mind, he breaks his gaze and scans the room.

Setting down my glass on the counter, I make my way back into the living room, wrapping my hair up in a tight ponytail so it doesn’t get in my way.

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