Page 104 of Rome: The Ballerina

I admired her openly and watched her face neutralize in the process. She wasn’t a stranger to compliments. She accepted them without deflecting or redirecting me.

She wanted to make sure I knew exactly what I had on my hands. She wanted me to understand she was far from average. She wanted me to understand that she was of a different caliber of woman.

She needed to hear out of my mouth that she was a rare gem. She needed to know that I understood her presence was a blessing. She needed to be sure I knew that I wouldn’t get twochances to fuck up because, before I could completely fuck up the first round, she’d be a faint memory.

Rome secreted confidence. The silent, unannounced kind. The kind that one knew simply by encountering her. She reminded me of a bear in hibernation. Even when silent, we knew its power.

“Perfect is a person, silly.”

She extended her hand for me to accept. I pressed the back of her palm against my lips and kissed gently.

It is. I agreed.

She stepped down with my assistance, although she didn’t need it. I led her to my car. It wasn’t until she was safely inside and I rested against the driver’s seat did I realize she hadn’t locked her door.

“Your key?” I asked, hand out.

“For?”

“To lock your door.”

She settled in, pulling out a compact mirror that was round and gold in color.

“Don’t worry, Saint. Raegan has it covered.”

“Raegan?”

“The intelligence system my home is operating on.”

I could feel the features of my face contort before relaxing. The idea of a smart home controlled by a complete operating system sounded more beneficial by the second.

“Fancy girl–” I chuckled.

“Can you handle her?” Rome asked, never taking her eyes off her reflection in the mirror.

“If I couldn’t I wouldn’t have wasted either of our time.”

“That’s the spirit, Sac,” she encouraged, closing the mirror and stuffing it back in the purse that was small enough to fit in her hand.

Her back was nearly bare. It pressed against the seat as she found comfort.

Fucking ridiculous. God had done well for Himself.

Rome never took her eyes off the road. She was focused. Her eyes were wide and bright. Her teeth sparkled from behind her glossed lips. Her adrenaline pumped harder as the miles per hour increased on the dashboard until finally, the engine roared at the stoplight near our destination.

My wheels came to a screeching halt. Everything around us grew still. Everything but her chest. It rose and fell dramatically. Slowly, her head turned in my direction. Those pretty teeth were on full display. She was fascinated. Not with the whip or the wheels but with the liberation they offered combined.

With haste, I ejected my body from the car. I pushed forward, swiftly rounding the car. By the time her door opened, I was in front of it. In front of her. She peered up at me with curious eyes.

“Get out, Mellow.”

“Saint–”

“In the driver’s seat.”

The hues shining onto the car changed as the light did. Green bounced from the black coat, crossing her beautiful skin.

“I can’t,” she said, shaking her head.

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