Page 17 of Made For Romeo

I’m about to take a step toward her, but then I’m stopped when Max comes over and talks to me. I’m dragged from one conversation to the next, and the only thing I can think of is her family is so freaking cool.

Max brings me over to the stools as we watch a bit of the game, my body on alert to where she is as I try to keep her in my eyesight the whole time. Max gets up to go and help Franny with her little girl, and I see Abigail is alone. I get up, walking over to the seat next to her, and sit down, hoping that Gabriella comes back.

“So what brings you to Dallas?” Abigail asks, and I look over at her.

“Well…” I start as I look around, searching for Gabriella, but I don’t see her anywhere. I also see that it’s just the two of us, so I’m going to lay my heart out for her. “I’m sorry I hurt her.”

She looks at me, confused and shocked. “I’m sorry, what?”

My heart starts to pound. “I was dating her,” I finally tell her, and she just looks at me like I have two heads. “Gabriella.”

“You were what?” she shrieks and then looks around to make sure no one is listening to our conversation. “You and Gabriella?” I nod.

“I fucked up, and I hurt her,” I admit to her. “I was a selfish asshole, and I lost the best thing I’ve ever had. You didn’t know?”

She shakes her head. “She probably thought I had bigger things to think about,” she says, putting her hand on her stomach. “So you’re here to win her back.”

I look around now and don’t see her anywhere, and I know deep inside she has left the building. I look back at Abigail and stare her in the eyes while I say the words, “I’m here to win her back or die trying.”

ELEVEN

GABRIELLA

I slam the front door behind me and dump my bag on the side as I slip off my jacket, letting it fall right on top of my bag. The soft light comes from the family room, so I don’t even bother turning the light on in the kitchen. I just walk over to the cabinet that holds the tequila. Grabbing the tequila bottle and then a shot glass, I walk into the living room.

I plop myself on the couch, putting the bottle and the glass on the square wooden coffee table in the middle. The top of the tequila bottle comes off with a plop before I pour a shot in the glass. I don’t even think twice about it before I down it. The warm liquid makes my lips burn before it goes down, warming my stomach. Only when I put the glass down do I let my shoulders slump. I pour another shot, taking it just as quickly as the first one before I fall back onto the couch. I exhale the deep breath I was holding since he walked in to the suite. My head was fucking spinning as I watched him being introduced to my family. The whole time I tried to ignore him, but my eyes would roam the room to see where he was, knowing that sooner or later, it would be my turn to be introduced to him.

I knew the minute the girls got up that I had to follow. I knew each step was one step closer to him. I knew I was getting closer and closer to him because my heart beat faster and faster. I didn’t know how he was going to play it. I didn’t know how I would play it until I looked at him and realized there would be questions if I said I knew him. And right now, there was not one question I wanted to answer about us or what we were. So I pretended I didn’t know who he was. I pretended I didn’t know what it was like to be touched by him. I pretended he didn’t break my heart. I pretended he was just another guy. I pretended until I couldn’t pretend anymore. Until the pain in my chest got so big that it was hard to breathe. I slipped out as soon as I got a chance, secretly hoping he would follow me but then praying he wouldn’t.

I lean forward again, grabbing another shot. This time, the burning is less intense than the last one. I stare at the bottle, my head going around and around as I try not to think about that one night. The one night that broke us. The one night seems to be seared into my brain, no matter how many times I tell myself to forget it. I hear the car door as I pour another shot; it’s like my brain knew he would come here, but my heart didn’t want to hope. I know who I am, and I know what I deserve. I also know Romeo Beckett doesn’t deserve me.

The ticking of the clock on the wall gets louder and louder until the doorbell rings. I close my eyes for a minute, fighting with myself. Don’t answer, and he’ll go away, while the other part of me knows this is it, and she’s pissed.

Luckily for me, the pissed one is the one who makes my legs move before my brain can catch up. I swing open the door and see him standing there with his hands on the doorjamb, leaning forward with his head hanging. “What do you want?” I shout, now with the tequila running through me. He looks up at me, but in the darkness, you can’t see the green in his eyes. In the darkness, you can’t see that little fleck of dark green in the bottom of his left eye. A lump forms in my throat, but I know that whatever this is, it ends tonight. “I’m over this shit.” My voice goes louder and louder. “So fucking over your shit.” I point at him, and all he does is look at me. “You came here. God knows for what, but you did.” My heart pounds so hard and so fast in my chest I feel like I’ve run a marathon, but the adrenaline pours through me. “I had dinner with you.” My voice feels like it’s going to tremble. “It’s time for you to go back to the rock you’ve been hiding under for the past eight months.” I swallow the lump when I think that this is going to be the last night I see him. Tonight, it ends, and it ends for good.

I turn around and walk back into the house. I know he’ll follow me, but I don’t want my neighbors to hear us fighting on my front lawn. I mean, is this even an argument? I walk back to the couch, pouring myself a shot of tequila, hoping he doesn’t see my hands shaking. I take the shot and then look up, seeing him standing there, and now with the light on, just a bit, I see his eyes. I see the anguish he has in them. He stands there, not sure what to say. “What else do you want from me?” I ask, trying to be so fucking strong. I will not show him how he broke me. I will not show him how broken I am. “I keep going around and around things in my head, trying to think about what it is you want from me, and I don’t have the answer for the life of me.”

“Gabriella,” he says. I hear the plea in his voice, but he doesn’t get to be the good guy. He doesn’t get to say anything.

“You want this?” I finally say. “Fine, let’s do this.” I shrug my shoulder, and the only thing I can hope for is that I’m strong enough not to break down in front of him.

“Imagine my surprise, if you will.” I laugh bitterly at the irony of all of this. “Coming home early to surprise you.” I shake my head, but the memory of that night isn’t going away, not tonight, not now. I hope after everything is said and done, we can both move on from this. I pour another shot, this time hoping it numbs me. Hoping with this shot it won’t let it hurt as much as it does. Even after all these months, the pain is just as much as it was that night.

“I miss you so much,” I mock him and his words, and I can see the hands at his sides form into fists. “It’s not the same without you. When are you coming home?” I chuckle before my head hangs forward, and my eyes start to sting, but I will not show him this. He doesn’t get this. He says nothing because what can he say. “I rushed to get on that plane, knowing I would land close to midnight, but it was going to be a nice surprise.” I look him dead in the eye. “Letting myself in quietly because there were no lights on, so I thought you would be sleeping.” I see it in my head. I tiptoed in, trying not to make a sound. Putting the bag of treats I got him right on the table in the hallway. “Making sure I didn’t make a sound. I made it to the steps before I heard something coming from the living room.” I want to pour another shot but I also know that my hands will shake so much there is no way anything would get into the glass. “Can you imagine what I saw?” I pick up the bottle, just bringing it to my lips because there is no way I can go on without it. My heart is breaking in the middle of my chest, and it surprises me because it’s already been shattered. “Oh, you missed me all right.”

He takes a step forward, but one look from me makes him stop. “I can explain.”

I hold up my hand. “I think I got the gist of it.” I shake my head, but the image doesn’t go away.

“She was buck-ass naked on top of you with her tongue down your throat and your cock in her hand. I don’t think I need a play-by-play.”

I could hear the heavy breathing as I stood there watching everything we had come crashing down. He was sitting in the middle of the couch with the naked woman on top of him. I didn’t even know what she looked like, except she had a great ass and bleached blonde hair, straddling him. “Fuck,” he hissed when he got his mouth free from hers, “that feels good.” I didn’t know how I did it. I didn’t know how I didn’t throw up right there. It felt surreal, and like a nightmare. None of this felt real since I was that woman on the couch with him not even three days ago.

“Your cock is so big,” the woman said as she played with him, but his head went down to suck her nipple.

“That feels good,” she moaned.

It was at that moment I backed out of the room. I made not a sound as I walked back to the front door in a daze. I must have been in a daze because I didn’t remember much of what happened next. I walked out of his house, walking straight to the street before I finally felt the tears running down my face. I walked to the end of the street before I pulled out my phone and called an Uber. Sitting down on the sidewalk, because my legs couldn’t hold me up anymore, I pulled up his name and sent him a text.

---