Page 77 of Destined for the Devil
"Sure. Seven? Text me where to meet you."
And as soon as I stepped out of his office, my phone buzzed with his text. Oh God, please don't tell me he was so eager because he thought something would happen between us. We broke up ages ago, and all men repulsed me.
All, except Roman. He was the only one I wanted.
With my application in hand, I met Thomas for drinks at exactly seven, hoping to be out of there in thirty minutes.
He was so chatty, so happy, such a little jokester, and I fucking hated him. My world existed in only gray and black colors, and seeing other people smile made me want to stab them.
Turned out, Thomas was engaged! That information astounded me considering how openly he flirted with me. Her name was Sara, and the wedding was set to happen in a year. A graduate of a private college, she was a sorority sister—his perfect match.
I downed my margarita and made up a quick lie about needing to be back at my friend’s house, diligently trying to end the whole evening as quickly as possible. But just when I said my goodbyes and shoved the application in his arms, he grabbed my hand, suddenly turning serious.
"Isla? I haven't forgotten what we had. I never will. With you…it was special. I haven't been able to find that again. Are you seeing someone?"
Poor Thomas. His relationship was a downgrade, and mine with Roman was an upgrade into the stratosphere. After Roman, I knew no other man would come close. But then I realized that since I lost him, I would be Thomas for the rest of my life—neversatisfied and comparing every man to Roman.
"No. I'm not seeing anyone, but Tommy…you can't repeat the past. I hope that you find in Sara…what you so desire. At the end of the day, communication is key." I blabbered on, hoping he would let me go, but to my dismay, he clutched my hand tighter.
"Sara is nothing like you,” he confessed quietly, the sad smile on his face tugging at my dead soul. “You're like…pop rocks. A sensation. And she's like…a bran muffin. You know what I mean?"
I almost burst out laughing at the comparison. A bran muffin? That’s one boring-ass woman. But it made perfect sense; Thomas was the bran muffin for me. And after I tasted pop rocks, nothing would ever compare.
Eager to shut this down and finish the evening, I pulled Thomas in for a friendly hug and quickly let go, but his hands landed on my waist. Before I could react, he leaned in for a kiss! I whipped my head to the side, lightly pushing him off. What a dick!
"Thomas? Even a bran muffin deserves honesty. If you're so bored with Sara, don't condemn both of you to a life of misery. And don't look for pleasure in old flames. It's not the same."
Disappointed, he just stood there as I created more distance between us, reminding him right before I turned away. "I need the money by the end of the week at the latest. Thanks for helping me. I really appreciate it."
He nodded, and with a small smile, finally abandoned me on the boardwalk beneath a streetlight. I exhaled, relieved to be alone.
The area was filled with families and couples, and before heading back to my friend’s house, I wanted to just sit and breathe. Work through the never-ending barrage of negativity in my soul. Close my eyes and imagine that I had a different life. A different fate.
But when I turned around, therehewas. Roman was leaningagainst the boardwalk railing, his glare burning right through me. Looking very casual in his black shorts and white shirt, he held a cigarette between his tattooed fingers, the smoke curling around his hair, which looked longer than ever. Murder reflected in his eyes.
God, I was ready to collapse. His sudden appearance had knocked the air out of me, throwing me straight into the eye of the emotional hurricane I’d been navigating all day.
We stared at each other, separated by the boardwalk but a thousand miles apart. Tears stung my eyes, butgoddamn it,I wouldn’t cry! I forbade myself! Instead, I stumbled back, but just as quick, Roman was already moving, taking long, deliberate strides my way.
My boyfriend.
"Was that good guy Thomas?" he inquired, his voice laced with venom as he came to a stop a little too close to me. I looked up at him, only a foot away, and restrained myself from falling into his arms.
"It was,” I said, forcing myself to remain calm. “You put me in a very difficult situation,bad guyRoman. I have to go back to Columbia this year if I ever want to finish. I can't defer anymore since they were holding my spot all this time."
"I told you I would pa—” he responded, exasperated and annoyed, but I cut him off before he could even finish the thought.
"Yeah? With the money you made by stealing my dad's business after you killed him?” I said bitterly. “I should have accepted if I had known it was my dad's money anyway."
Roman said nothing. He just stood there, his expression twisted in that awful mix of anger and grief.
I had to leave. I had to end this before my willpower disappeared and I jumped into his arms. "Please don't tell me you've been following me. That's beyond creepy, even for you. I told you I never want to see you. Don't show up like this again."
I stepped back and turned away, forcing my legs to move. My breath caught in my throat, and my hands and feet were all cold and clammy from the short interaction. I was shaking inside. Fuck me. I was so head over heels for him.
Suddenly, a hand closed around my upper arm, but I didn’t stop, didn’t look back, just prayed that he couldn’t tell that all of me was on fire.
"No! Stop. Stop, Roman, let go!" I pleaded, not daring to face him. But he didn’t, of course. Instead, he pulled me into him. And I collapsed. I pressed myself against his chest, my knees on the verge of giving out.
