Page 21 of Loving Roman
Finally, she looks at me, and her features soften. “I … I’m just surprised. That’s all.” I want to lean in and steal a kiss, have her in my arms again, and be free to touch her like I did on vacation. “This is my fourth day on the job. A job I can’t afford to lose. If … if my superiors find out that you and I are …” She snaps her gaze away from mine. “Familiar. I … I don’t know how they’ll respond.” She swallows hard, her posture screaming at me to keep a professional distance between us.
My chest squeezes, and I suck in a sharp breath. Pushing my hand roughly through my short hair, I work through various scenarios that allow me to keep her.
Her eyes follow the path of my hand. “You’ve cut your hair,” she says, reaching up to touch the shorter strands almost absent-mindedly.
Who the fuck cares about my haircut?
I need to know how she feels about me. “Are you at least somewhat happy our paths have crossed again?” I’m desperate to know whether the way I feel is one-sided.
Does she feel our affinity too, or am I delusional?
Her shoulders drop. “Of course I am. I enjoyed our time together. I’m worried about keeping my job and making a good impression.” She takes a small step forward and rests her hand on my pec. I cover it with my own, feeling her warmth seeping through my shirt.
I dip my nose into the crook of her neck, soaking up her vanilla scent again. “Surely they can’t tell you who you’re allowed to date?” I lock my eyes with hers. “Because I can’t let this opportunity”—I wave my hand between us—“to continue what we started on vacation slip through my fingers. It was too good not to see where this could lead.” I implore her with my eyes to keep an open mind. Not to shut this down without proper consideration. I know the connection we share is rare.
“Roman, can you tell—” Sammy comes to a screeching halt when she notices I’m not alone. Alice snatches her handaway from my body, and I instantly miss her touch. I take a step back to put a socially acceptable amount of space between us.
Working to wrangle every ounce of inner calm, I ask, “What is it, Sammy?” She’s my youngest and possibly most damaged of all the kids in my care. I’m lucky she didn’t walk in a few moments before when I was invading Alice’s personal space.
She looks between Alice and me, and I realize I probably should introduce her. “Sammy, this is Alice. Our new social worker.”
Sammy waves shyly, ducking her head, before responding, “Hello, Alice.”
“Hello, Sammy.” Alice gives me a sideways look as she bends forward, hands resting on her knees, to meet Sammy at her level. “Is everything okay?”
Sammy looks up to me. “Uh, yeah. Blake said it was his turn to choose the game tonight, but it’smyturn.”
“Do you remember what I taught you?” She nods. “Okay, well, this is the perfect time to put that into practice. You want me to come with you?” She nods again. “Okay. Let’s go.” Placing my hand on her shoulder, I gently guide her back into the kitchen, where the other kids are working on their homework with Marcus. I don’t know how many months it took for me to get Sammy to trust me enough to allow me to rest my hand on her shoulder, but it’s been so damn rewarding watching her fear subside. Marcus usually comes around once every couple of weeks to visit the kids. He makes the rounds each weekday afternoon, visiting a different group home withinThe Parkerville Project, and the kids always look forward to his visits.
I nudge Sammy forward, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze for encouragement.
She clears her throat, twisting her fingers together likemacramé. “Uh, excuse me, Blake.” She makes me proud as she works hard to maintain eye contact with him. I notice the smirk he’s trying to hide, and I get the impression he’s set this up on purpose. “I just wanted to say it’smyturn to choose the game tonight, and I choose UNO Flip.”
He shrugs carelessly, but I see a hint of pride in his eyes. “Okay. Sounds good.”
Sammy’s shoulders drop, and she smiles timidly at me, but her posture tells me she’s proud of the way she stood up for herself. I’m proud of her, too. I nod discreetly at Blake, letting him know I’m onto him and we’ll have a chat later about what he did for Sammy. He jerks his chin at me in the only way an almost-teen can.
“Hey, everyone. I’d like you to say hi to Alice. She’s our new social worker and will be calling in to check on us from time to time. Be sure to remember your manners.”
The kids throw out a series of greetings, to which Alice gives a small wave, a friendly smile, and a ‘hello’.
I look between Marcus and Alice. “Would either of you like a coffee? I was about to make one for myself.”
“Yes, please. That’d be great.” Marcus makes himself more comfortable, and I look toward Alice.
“Thanks. I’d love one.”
I set about making coffee; Marcus is like me, only drinking his black. I make two black coffees and a latte with two sugars for Alice. I place them on the table and take a seat.
When Alice thanks me for the perfect brew, Marcus asks, “How did you know how Alice takes her coffee?” He looks between the two of us, awaiting an answer.
Shit!
I fight the need to shift in my seat and do my best to school my features. Shrugging my shoulders casually, I respond as nonchalantly as I can. “Lucky guess, I suppose.” I look at Alice, as if I need to check with her. “Did I get it right?”
She loses the deer-caught-in-headlights look and nods with a nervous chuckle. “Yeah, thank you.”
The rest of her visit goes smoothly. She spends time with the kids, covertly getting to know them while assisting with reading, spelling, and math homework. She has a quiet way about her that quickly makes the kids feel at ease—increasing her appeal in my eyes. They happily share about their day with her, which is surprising; it normally takes them a while before they’ll chat freely in front of or with another adult. I had the same reaction to her when we met—I felt comfortable within the first few minutes. She has a warmth about her that can’t be ignored or explained.
