A dog we didn’t plan to get but couldn’t say no to.
A cat that roams the backyard and Roman pretends he hates because he knows I’m allergic, even though he secretly feeds it every morning.
He’d kiss my shoulder while I write, smudge charcoal across my cheeks without realizing, and I’d find little drawings of us in the margins of my notebook and in the drawers of his nightstand.
Soft.
Simple.
Terrifying.
Because none of it’s real, and part of me wants to build it anyway, just to see if we could.
He stops us and turns to face me, his thumb brushing my cheek as he gazes into my eyes. “Where’d you go, Little Rose?”
I smile, ignoring the tangle in my heart. “Nowhere important,” I lie.
He gives me a look but doesn’t press.
“Where are we?” I ask, looking at a giant parking garage in the middle of a concrete jungle.
There’s not much to see here other than a few buildings and warehouses mixed in with a parking garage every couple of blocks. It’s quiet, not even a car going down the streets, and I don’t know how he evenfoundthis place.
He pulls me into an elevator, the dings ringing in my ears as it slowly takes us higher. “You know, you’re really living up to your serial killer lore, bringing me to an abandoned garage like this.”
He smirks and then pushes off the side until he’s crowding me against the wall.
My breath hitches, butterflies erupting in my stomach and heat pooling between my thighs.
“A murderer and a stalker,” he muses. “A match made in heaven.”
I laugh, shaking my head. It makes my cheek press into his palm, and I lean into the moment.
He tilts my chin up and then presses a kiss to my lips.
Chaste. Sweet, even.
“I promise not to kill you if you promise to follow me around for the rest of my life,” he murmurs.
He smiles against my mouth and my heart clenches like it’s trying to claw its way through me to get to him.
“That’s a very dramatic way to ask me out, officially,” I tease, trying to lighten the moment so I don’t drown.
He doesn’t pull back, just shifts his face up until he’s looming over me, his arm resting above my head on the wall.
“Would you say yes?”
The elevator dings again and the doors slide open. I take the opportunity, slipping beneath his arm and heading out onto the open level of the top floor of the garage.
Roman doesn’t move right away. He lingers in that breathless space between us, like he’s trying to cement the moment in his memory.
Finally, he follows me out, an easy grin pasted to his perfect face. He reaches for my hand. “Come on.”
He leads me down the length of the garage. It’s just a rooftop really; flat concrete with a low ledge and the quiet hum of silence. But when he takes me to the very edge, my breath catches.
My stomach drops when I look out, realizing how high up we actually are.
“You’re not seriously about to climb up there, are you?” I ask when he lets me go to step toward the ledge.