It’s been two whole minutes and Roman hasn’t been able to move since Jahlani passed out in his arms. Two whole minutes of him staring at her parted lips and reddened cheeks. The shock of her laughter, he slowly realizes, is what did it. Laughingat him. But maybe her falling in his arms, her cheek pressed to his chest, her makeupdefinitelystaining the white of his button-down, which he couldn’t bring himself to care about, her delicate snores, and usually tense countenance all pacified, played a part too.
Shifting her body against him, he pulls a loose strand of hair away from her nose. She twitches, and he resists the urge to run his finger down its path. His eyes travel down to her parted lips as he watches her breathing even out. They’re not their usual chestnut-brown color. They’re lighter. Fuller.
Distracting.
His mouth dries as he takes in the crease of her lips, the way they seem to fluff out into this delicate poutbeggingto be kissed. His arms tense at the thought.
He certainly didn’t expect to see her across the room tonight, and he definitely didn’t anticipate encountering her drunk. Jahlani mumbles incoherently as he adjusts her in his arms.
God, what is she wearing?
It’s everything and nothing at the same time. It’s paper-thin. The leather jacket she had on earlier was covering the thin straps on her shoulders, but he had watched from a distance as she tossed it to the floor. Now the delicate curves of her shoulders are exposed, as is her chest.
She’s not wearing a bra.Her hardened nipples protrude against the barely-there barrier, leaving nothing to the imagination.
Was it against university policy to stare at your graduate teaching assistant’s nipples? He averts his gaze, adjusting her to bend down and swipe the jacket from the floor. He manages with expert dexterity to wrap the jacket around her body without waking her. She shivers in response, curling further into him.
Shit.
Adjusting her, he guides them to the bench outside the hallway so that she’s resting her head in the crook of his neck. Her soft breaths hit his skin and it’s comical how much it’s doing for him. His eyes travel down to her exposed wrist where he sees the bruise forming. He rubs a hand over the welt, testing the skin, and she winces, sighing against his neck.
Two days ago, she was tearing him apart. Now she’s here again. Doing things to him without even trying.
“I don’t … need your … help,” she says, her voice laden with sleep.
Roman turns slightly to see that her eyes are still screwed shut. He chuckles. Her eyebrows are pinched, and her mouth is downturned. Even in her sleep, she’s fighting him.
He moves a stray braid from her face, grazing her cheek. “I know, Jones. You don’t need anyone,” he whispers into her hair. “You’re so fucking smart, and beautiful. Stubborn as hell.” He sighs, dropping his hand. “If you’d let me get a word in that day,I would have told you.” He twists his neck to look down at her. “But something tells me, you’re not ready to hear that yet.”
Suddenly, her fists clench at her sides and she turns further into his neck, her damp forehead heavy against his collar.
“Roman.”
His entire body stills as she tenses against him. Soft, harsh breaths fall from her throat. He blinks, unsure of what to do. He decides that he imagined the whole thing and that she didn’t just say his name in her sleep.
He looks down, trying to catch her eye, because the only logical explanation is that she’s awake, trying to get his attention and not the highly improbable explanation.
He licks his lips when he takes in her flushed cheeks and shut eyes. A more distinct sigh falls from her lips, and his head falls back against the wall. He feels her body further slump into his shoulder as he lets out a shaky exhale.
Well, fuck.
A woman with red locs that move with her rounds the corner, tapping away in a frenzy on her phone.
“Jahlani, I can’t find Trent anywhere—oh,God.”
She moves to Jahlani’s side, crouching down so that she’s eye level with her. She draws a hand to Jahlani’s face, tapping her cheek as she attempts to lift her head from his shoulder.
“Jahlani, wake up.Shit.Where is Trent? I’m going to murder him when I find him.” She talks fast and under her breath, not meeting his eyes as she lifts Jahlani from his shoulder. “Shit,” she says through a winded sigh. “I need to find Trent.”
She looks to the left and down the hallway which leads back out to the floor, and to the right before looking back to Jahlani. She lets out a groan, standing to her full height. Roman watches as her eyes dart around the building and back to a sleeping Jahlani.
Roman clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “I can stay so that you can find him.”
The woman looks down at him, her eyes thinning as she pulls Jahlani toward her. He throws his hands up.
“We know each other from school,” he says, hoping that will soothe the weariness in her eyes, but he realizes he’s mistaken when her lip pulls back. “I also work here,” he says, but it comes out sounding more like a question, and he wants to shake himself. But her eyes soften, and the crease between her eyebrows unfolds as she lets out a soft “oh.”
She shakes her head, her shoulders dropping. “Sorry.”
