Page 105 of Catch Me
“We should talk.”
He dropped his gaze. When he didn’t respond, I climbed into the bed and laid on my side. Taking his chin, I lifted his head so he would look at me.
“What do you see in my eyes, Roman?”
“I don’t know.”
“Look.”
His dark eyes met mine, and I suddenly wished I could identify what was in them, just like he wanted to.
“Right now, danger.”
I smiled a little. “Danger?”
“Yeah, you make me afraid.”
“The good kind?”
“I think so. Depends how I look at it. If I want to go home and do what I’ve been doing my whole life, it’s a bad danger. If I want more, then it’s a good danger.”
“What do you want?”
When he scooted closer, I took a heavy breath. It was strange how a man who looked like he could kick my ass stared at me with something tender in his eyes.
“I don’t want to be who I was,” he replied. “But I have no idea how to be someone different.”
“You have been for weeks.”
“Because of you.”
I shook my head. “When you go back to your life, it’ll be harder.”
“Can I just not go back?” He laughed, but it sounded forced.
“If only things were so simple. Do you like who you’ve been here?”
He nodded. His fingers touched my abdomen over my shirt, then trailed downward. I was going to stop him, but he went back up. For a minute, I just focused on that touch as it traveled the same path repeatedly.
“When you tried to kiss me,” I began. He started to pull his hand away, so I caught his wrist and brought it back to my chest. “Was it the same feeling as when you were with the others?”
“No.”
“It’s different?”
“I’ve never kissed anyone.”
I blinked a few times. “No one? Not even women?”
He shook his head. I thought about that day in Camp Dumont. Sen was my first kiss, and it solidified who I was. Apparently, I was Roman’s first kiss, and I wondered if it felt the same. Did he suddenly feel whole like I had at fifteen? Did it feel like things finally made sense? Did it make him feel brave for a second, then afraid when it ended?
When his fingers dipped under my shirt, I met his eyes. I didn’t move as he felt up to my chest, then moved around to my side. He reached my hip, and it was torture.
I grabbed his wrist and pinned it to the bed as I rolled to my knees. His lips parted, and God, I wanted to feel them again, but I just moved one of my legs to his other side and hovered over him.
“Are you gonna run away from this?” He shook his head. “Will you push it all back down when you get home?” When he shook his head again, I bent down. “Use your words.”
“I like you,” he said, the words a whisper that somehow sounded confident. “I’m not gonna go back to how it was. I can’t.”
