“I’m not at my best today. I think the hand should stay.” This is such a ridiculous conversation but it doesn’t seem to be fazing him.
Roman walks up towards the shop at the back of his yard. There’s a fire ladder on his side. Oh no, what’s he doing?
Before I can say stop he’s climbing up to reach the balcony adjoining mine. For such a big guy, he’s surprisingly agile, almost athletic. Now we’re looking at each other eye to eye - well, almost, since he’s so much taller than I am. He reaches over and takes the hand shading my eyes in his.
“Your eyes are green. Beautiful.” He seems surprised. I’m not sure why. My heart starts to beat faster in my chest.
It’s hard not to stare at him. It’s even harder not to think about the kiss we had last night now he’s standing so close to me. He smells freshly showered, his dark hair slightly falling into his eyes and his deep brown eyes locked on mine. He’s still holding onto my hand and there’s an electric connection which is registering in his eyes, making his pupils darken and dilate.
“I’m not sure you’re allowed to do that.” I shake my head.
“Hold your hand? How come?” He keeps his hand covering mine.
“You’re a Montag. Alarm bells will go off or we’ll be struck by lightning or something.” I smile.
He smiles back. “Lightning wouldn’t stop me.”
My stomach flutters at his words and my heartbeat gets even faster. Why does he have this powerful effect on me? He’s so close.
“I think it’s my turn to ask the questions.” His hand is warm on mine in the cold air.
“Go ahead. But you already know who I am now.” I wish I’d at least brushed my hair before I came out here. Why does this always happen? First sign of a cute guy in ages and I’m hungover, in a raggedy old sweatshirt, even older jeans and a messy bun with bags under my eyes. Quite a contrast from last night.
“I’m Roman, you’re Julia. Sound familiar? Question one: does that mean we’re destined to be together?” He still has a hint of a smile on his handsome face.
It’s hard to get my head together while I’m still breathing in his scent and his hand is on mine, but I give it my best shot. “Well, since I studied Romeo and Juliet at college I’d say definitely not. Unless you like unhappy endings where we both die.” Oh shit. That’s going to kill the mood.
He doesn’t look fazed. “So you’re not a romantic then?”
“Is that question two?” I raise my eyebrows pointedly.
“Sure.” He’s looking at me expectantly.
“Actually I am. I’m just not a fan of unhappy endings.” In between the hangover, coffee, aspirin and this crazy-cute guy, I’m probably being more honest than I’d normally be to a stranger. Well, a stranger who I’ve kissed. And am hoping to kiss again. I try not to stare too blatantly at his perfect lips.
“Okay. Question three. Shall we get married now or later?” He’s gazing steadily at me.
WTF?
“Uh...Roman. I’ve just met you. And the Montags and the Caputos are sworn enemies. And if you believe in Shakespeare - or fate - then this will end in tragedy.” I should stop staring at him. He’s still holding my hand.
“That kiss didn’t feel too tragic last night.” He’s looking at my lips and I can’t help looking at his again. He draws my hand forward so it’s resting on his chest and gently pulls me forward, so there’s only the low wrought iron barrier separating the two balconies, and us. His other hand goes to the back of my neck as he inclines his head down and presses his lips against mine. It’s even better than last night. His lips explore mine as if there’s all the time in the world and his hands curl themselves around my hair so I’m caught in his grasp. My breathing is coming quickly as my hands reach up to his big shoulders, wondering if the rest of him is made on such a grand scale.
“Julia - what are you doing up there? I need a hand!” It’s my Mom shouting up the stairs. I pull away, even though it’s hard to let go of him.
“Roman, I have to go…” I grimace a little to show him I’m not happy about this.
“Same time tomorrow, my fair Julia?” He’s smiling again as if all this balcony stuff was the most natural thing in the world.
“Okay.” I give him a big smile back and go back inside. I hadn’t realized how cold it was out there and I start shivering now I’m away from him. Or maybe it’s just delayed shock at how unbelievably gorgeous he is.
If I could, I’d go back and press my body against him again to warm up. Roman, Roman, wherefore art thou Roman?
I need to snap out of this. Maybe cutting lilies and sneezing will help.
I head downstairs, my head still full of the perfect guy next door.
Chapter Four
