Page 83 of Worth the Trouble

Purgatory.

27

Lili

Marijuanasmokepermeateseveryinch of air in the room. If I don’t get a contact high, I’ll be surprised.

Making my way through the crowd, I’m overwhelmed by how different this scene is from the places I’m used to. It’s buzzing, full of life. Euphoric. Everyone’s enjoying themselves as they wait for a band to take the stage.

I’m not sure if I’m overdressed or underdressed as I make my way through the horde of people. Either way, I’m out of place in my little black dress with my hair in a ponytail and barely any makeup. The exact opposite of all the studs and leather. Everyone in here is sharp in all the ways I’m soft.

I scan the crowd for Rome but don’t see him, so he’s probably prepping already. He’s filling in with another band and invited me to come to see him play, which has my stomach in excited knots.

Looking at the stage, it’s still empty, and I’m thankful. Rehearsal ran long, and I was starting to think I’d miss the show.

Someone bumps me and jolts me to the mass of people I’m standing in. This scene is untamed, so I make my way to the bar for a drink, hoping it will help me relax.

I cling to the bar top when I reach it, thankful it’s quieter over here by the wall, and I wait for the bartender to notice me. It’s crowded with women flashing smiles and cleavage left and right, so he’s distracted at the other end.

Everything about this place is wild debauchery, while I come from a world parading under the pretense of chastity and perfection.

A yin to yang.

Pleasure and pain.

I’m about to give up on getting a drink and go find a place in the crowd to stand, when I feel the warmth of a body press close behind me.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Rome’s voice cuts through the noisy crowd, and it sends a path of goosebumps over my skin.

He grabs onto my ponytail and pulls, forcing my neck to crane back until I’m looking up at him standing behind me.

“I like this.” He wraps his hand in my long hair again and pulls harder, which forces my back to arch against him, but he doesn’t let go. Rome lowers his mouth to mine. “Think we’ll have to play with it later.”

He leans down and kisses me, still holding me in place with my hair. His dick presses against my ass through our clothes, and I feel him all over me. The room might be full, but everyone else ceases to exist. With Rome holding me in place, in a world I clearly don’t belong, he’s the one keeping me here. Dragging me under, and I can’t help but let him.

His tongue slips into my mouth, and I’m in so far over my head I know two weeks won’t be enough. The question is, what will?

Rome releases me from the kiss and loosens his grip on my ponytail.

“You made it.” He smiles with the kind of relief that feels so genuine my heart breaks for both of us.

“Rehearsal ended up only running a few minutes over.” I spin in his arms and face him, but he doesn’t let me go, instead dropping his hands to my hips.

It’s casual, like he doesn’t think about the fact that he’s standing here holding me like I’m his girlfriend when anyone could see him. And although I know he’s not shy about being physically affectionate with women, there’s something about his tight grip that feels possessive instead of sexual.

I shouldn’t be here—with him or in this bar—but I can’t leave either.

“Besides…” I wrap my hands around him and step closer, folding into whatever is happening instead of separating myself. “Couldn’t miss a live appearance of the Riff King in action. I hear it’s something women lose panties over. Must be special.”

Rome grins so wide it stretches his entire face, and I absolutely love it. He leans down and grazes his teeth over my earlobe.

“It’s so fucking sexy when you call me that.”

“You and your ego.”

“Nah.” He shakes his head, pulling back. “It’s justyou.”

I’m not sure how to take his statement, because any way I do is dangerous, so I play it off with a giggle that’s so unlike me, only Rome Moreno could bring it out.

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