Page 55 of Before I Say I Don't
“The good ones don’t come around three times… maybe twice.”
I pulled my ear away from the phone just in time to see Kamira’s text light up my screen:I’m coming up.
My lips curled slow. “I gotta go, Ma. She’s here.”
“Oh, Lord,” she whispered like she was peeking through her curtains. “Go get her.”
“Aight.”
I hung up, slid the phone into my pocket, and scanned the place one last time. Everything was set—lights low, table neat, air carrying the faint scent of cedar and something warm I’d cooked just to make her feel at home.
Then I moved to the door, calm as a loaded chamber. The kind of calm that made men nervous and women curious.
I pulled it open, and there she was standing in the elevator like she hadn’t just spent the last few weeks unraveling my patience without even knowing it.
Chapter Fourteen
KAMIRA
Ididn’t know what I expected when the elevator doors opened, but it wasn’tthat.
And I’m not just referring to the penthouse décor; I’m talking about Roman.
He stood there, wearing a fitted dark shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms sculpted like a masterful piece of art, as if he knew exactly how they affected my self-control. His deep-set eyes held a magnetic pull that made me feel both vulnerable and daring. They made me want to tell the truth—only to lie again just to hear him press for more.
“Hello, beautiful,” he greeted, voice smooth enough to trip my lewd thoughts.
“Hi, handsome.” I smiled bashfully. “I feel a little overdressed,” I sheepishly admitted, tugging at the hem of my dress.
“It’s cool. I can make you more comfortable,” he winked, stepping aside with an effortless grace that invited me in. “Come in.”
Inside, though, the penthouse spoke for itself. The first thing that hit me was the smell—roasted garlic and rosemary drifting through the air, buttery warmth that wrapped around me. Thespace was wide and open, floor-to-ceiling windows catching the whole city in glass. Everything inside looked deliberate, polished, and expensive without being loud. Just walking in made me stand a little taller, as if I were part of something prestigious.
“You sure you didn’t move back for good?” I teased, glancing around.
He flashed that slow, devastatingly charming smile that made my heart race. “Nah. I’m just renting for the month. The place came furnished. I just edited it to suit my taste.”
“Edited?” I laughed, shaking my head. “That’s a new spin on it. Seriously, this looks like a movie set.”
“Then come and take a seat like the star you are,” he murmured, seamlessly taking my bag with one hand while gently clasping my hand in the other.
“Don’t mind if I do,” I replied, feeling a thrill at the promise of what this evening might hold.
The table was a masterpiece, elegantly adorned and completely breathtaking.
“Wow. It’s beautiful,” I breathed, taking in the details.
“You ain’t seen the best part,” he said, pulling out my chair with that calm, controlled grace.
That’s when my gaze landed on it—nestled off to the side, a delicate white cake stood proudly. It was rimmed in gold. The script written across the top read:Congratulations, Kamira.
The sting behind my eyes was instant. “Roman…”
Roman froze like he’d misplayed the whole room. “What did I mess up?”
I chuckled softly, swiping a tear away with my thumb.
“They’re happy tears. You did everything just right. The cake…”
