Page 49 of Worth the Trouble

Rome’s eyebrows furrow, and this might be the most serious I’ve ever seen him. “Do what?”

“Let go?” I sigh. “Last night you were so free—”

“They’re called drugs, sweetheart.” He smiles.

But I shake my head. “That’s not what I mean. If I let my guard down, everything will fall apart, but the way you live life is so… untethered.”

I’m not sure what else to call it. But it’s how Rome feels, free of the strings that constantly tug at me.

Rome’s smile fades as he scans my face, and I swear the air becomes palpable. Him, this close on the bed. Me, coming undone every moment I’m around him.

“My entire childhood was about maintaining control,” Rome says. “It’s what my father expected. One wrong move and…”

He lets his mind trail somewhere as his sentence cuts off. But the truth is there—on his face and in his voice. A past I guess still haunts him.

“My life was dictated to me for seventeen years, and that was enough.”

“And your dad?”

“Is dead now.” Rome’s cold expression doesn’t match his words.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” Rome huffs. “Unless you can count the fact that I wish I could have been the one to do it. Asshole finally got what he deserved.”

“What’s that?”

“Two bullets to the chest and a world that didn’t miss him when he left it.”

I’ve never seen this side of Rome. His carefree nature stripped down to a hard man who’s hiding a lot of pain underneath.

“I’m guessing you had a complicated relationship?”

“If that’s what you want to call it.” His hand trails down his ribs like it hurts just thinking about it.

“Complicated or not doesn’t mean it’s not going to affect you.”

“I’m fine.” He rolls onto his back once more and closes his eyes, taking in a deep breath. It’s enough that I wonder who I’m seeing in front of me, the man Rome is or the boy who was hurt in order to create him.

I roll onto my back because if I don’t, I’ll probably just keep staring. “I lost my dad last year.”

Pausing, I wait for him to say something cordial or forced like most people do. But Rome is Rome, and he doesn’t.

“We weren’t close though. My family has always been more of a business than anything else. Hold up your obligations and you’re rewarded. Don’t and…” I trail off, not sure how to finish that statement. I’ve never actually been brave enough to disappoint my parents.

I turn my head to find Rome looking at me again. His dark eyes search for something deep in mine.

“And your mom?”

“She’s protective,” I say, not quite sure how to explain her to him. “I know she cares. I just don’t think she’s capable of showing it as a mother should.”

Rome watches me. Absorbing every word.

How long has it been since someone has been this interested in something more than my body or my dancing?

“What about yours?” I try to divert the subject away from my messed-up family. “Are you and your mom close?”

He hasn’t mentioned her, and I’m not sure how to take that.

---