Page 111 of Catch Me
This time, he let our palms slide against each other. I took the initiative, feeling like he was ready for it, and threaded my fingers with his. It took him a second, but he curled his fingers over my hand, and I couldn’t hold back my smile.
“What . . .” He paused. “What happened to her?”
I squeezed his hand. “I’ll tell you sometime. It’s your turn to tell me something.”
“Ugh, fine.”
His acceptance made me perk up. “Why Chicago?”
“It’s a good school.”
“Try again. I’m not asking for surface-level Roman tonight.”
He huffed. “It is a good school, but also... I guess I needed some distance to figure myself out. Without all of these other influences. Without the things that shaped me into who I was, because I didn’t really like that person. I didn’t know what I was looking for when I left home, but I knew that I wouldn’t find it there. I also knew that...”
“What?”
His voice was quiet when he responded. “I knew if something didn’t change, I’d stop convincing myself to keep trying.”
My chest constricted. I wanted to go on a spiel, but I could tell from the way his grip on my hand loosened that he was already close to pulling away from me. I let him drop my hand, but I slung my arm around his shoulders and planted a kiss on his temple, which made him tense.
“Loser does dishes,” I said before I shoved away from him and sprinted for the house.
His footsteps behind me told me he’d taken me up on the challenge. For a second, I thought about letting him beat me by a hair, but that sort of shit wasn’t in my nature. Tessa won, of course, and I came in second. Throwing my arms in the air, I turned around to gloat.
Roman’s chest was rising and falling rapidly, and he was locked on to me. The expression was sort of feral.
Fuck the dishes.
I closed the distance between us in two strides. As my hand settled at his nape, his arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me as close as humanly possible. Unless we were naked.
Our mouths collided ungracefully, all teeth and tongue and desperation. He backed me up, throwing the door open without pausing. It didn’t take long for us to reach the kitchen, and when I collided with the island, I lifted myself onto it. He stepped between my legs and let his hands shift to my thighs.
Unable to simply let it lie, I gripped his hair and pulled him back a fraction. “Look at me.”
He met my eyes and cocked a brow. “I’m looking. It’s making me sorta nauseous.”
“Do I make you nervous?”
“Nah, you’re just kinda ugly.”
I punched him in the stomach, making him grunt. When he looked at me, though, he was smiling.
“Roman,” I said, getting serious again. “You don’t have to figure everything out alone.” When he tried to turn away, I took him by the chin. “I can’t stop the things you feel right now or as you keep going. They’re inevitable. But if you ever feel likethat, you’re going to tell me.”
He turned his head, breaking my grip. “Don’t do that.”
“I have to.”
“I’m not one of your followers asking for help,” he snapped.
The corner of my mouth lifted. “You kinda were, though.”
When he tried to step back, I wrapped my legs around him, holding him in place. He could’ve gotten free, but he didn’t try.
“I’m serious,” I told him. “Doesn’t matter where you are or what’s going on. I’ll be there. I’m sorta clingy, remember?”
He nodded once. “Maybe I need that.” He said it barely loud enough for me to hear, like he really didn’t want to put those words out in the world. But he had. And that was a beautiful thing.
