Page 73 of Worth the Trouble

“Should we talk about this?”

Rome’s eyes cut in my direction. “Do you want to?”

He knows it’s a challenge. Neither of us actually wants to break this trance we get in around each other. I keep my mouth shut and look out the window instead, not saying a word as he turns in the direction of his house.

The lion's den.

A place he knows he’s in control. A place I’ve stopped myself from going a hundred times over the past three days.

It doesn’t take long to get there when he’s barreling down the road. We’re at Adrian and Eloise’s house—I blink—we’re at Rome’s.

When he stops the car, he gets out and slams the door behind him, disappearing into the downpour. I almost think he left me sitting here until my door swings open, and I see him standing in the rain with a hand stretched out to me.

Taking it feels like a promise I’m in no position to make, but I can’t help it, planting my palm in his.

He keeps me close as he guides me to his house, and we soak the entryway with puddles the moment we step inside. Much like being in the car, the silence of the house is unnerving. Even if the echoes of rain outside try to fill it.

Rome laces his fingers through mine and guides me into the house, through the living room, where my eyes trail to those two stripper poles standing like a statement in the center. A warning for what this is and isn’t. An answer to the question I keep asking myself, even though I know we won’t find any permanence. And although I don’t mind the poles for the reasons I probably should, right now they feel like a reminder of the limits he places on what he’s willing to give.

The house is dark in the middle of the afternoon due to the stormy sky. And I follow Rome into that darkness. Down the hallway I know leads to his bedroom when I should have been headed home. I follow him down this rabbit hole and wait to get lost in Wonderland with him.

“We’re getting water everywhere.” I’m not sure if I’m actually worried about ruining his house or if it’s nervous energy, but he chuckles at my comment.

“Not the worst these walls have ever seen.”

I have no doubt about that. The question is, do I want to be a part of it? Do I want to weave myself into the memory of what these walls remember when I’ll be long gone in a few weeks?

When we reach his room, he walks over to a wall and flicks a button, which opens a panel and reveals a fireplace I didn’t know was there. He pauses in front of it, the edge of his face lit by the glow of the flames. He reaches for the hem of his shirt and strips it off his body, throwing it to the ground beside him.

The flickering glow makes every cut of muscle on his torso more prominent. It draws out the demonic faces of the devils on his skin. It urges me to escape, but all I do is find myself closing in on him.

“I don’t fuck around with chicks in relationships,” Rome says, with an edge of hurt in his voice. “Are you seeing him?”

I shake my head, finally choking out a, “No,” when he doesn’t turn to look at me.

His gaze narrows, and finally, he looks in my direction. “You sure?”

“You saw the photo?”

Rome doesn’t so much as nod but looks back to the fire, swallowing hard.

I wonder how dangerous a statement would have to be on his tongue for him to swallow it. Rome doesn’t hold back, but standing in front of me in the heat of the flames, I feel him resisting.

“I didn’t want him to kiss me,” I say, even if it sounds mildly pathetic.

“Does he do that a lot—things you don’t want him to?” Rome’s stare finds me again, and it’s darker this time.

I nod. “Always.”

It’s painful. It’s true. It’s how he destroyed me.

I take another step toward Rome. “Did you sleep with the blonde?”

I’m not sure I’m ready for the answer, but I need it.

“No.” Rome looks almost disgusted by my question, but I don’t know why.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.” I take another, more cautious, step.

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