“Thank you for understanding.” He turns to look at the ocean. “I still can’t believe this is happening. I’ve been sitting here for an hour, trying to wrap my head around how amazing this is going to be.”
“I’m so happy for you.”
Roman shakes off whatever he’s thinking and returns to me. When our eyes meet, I plaster a grin on my face again.
“Should we order some champagne to celebrate?” I ask brightly.
Roman pulls my hand to his mouth and kisses it. “Nope. I made a reservation at the best restaurant in Kauai. I figured we’d dine in style as Part One of tonight’s celebration, before coming back here for Part Two.”
Crap. I’m sure the restaurant Roman’s picked out is swanky and fabulous, but I’d much rather eat room service on the deck again, like we’ve been doing every night, so I can have Roman to myself for every minute of our last night together.
“You don’t feel up to going out?” Roman asks.
“No, yes. I do. Absolutely. We should celebrate in style, like you said.”
He bites his lip and looks out at the ocean again, like he’s having deep thoughts. And I can’t help feeling like there’s something he wants to tell me—something he’s holding back. But when he returns to me and our gazes lock, he smiles, winks, pats my thigh, and says, “Go on now, baby. Get showered and dressed. Our reservation is in an hour.”
Chapter 23
Iris
“Bon appétit,” ourwaiter says.
As he walks away, Roman and I greedily dig into our main courses. So far, every appetizer has been otherworldly, so we’ve both got high expectations for our meals.
“Mine isincredible,” I say. “How’s yours?”
“Delicious. You need to taste this.”
We take bites from each other’s plates and rave about everything. But when conversation about our food dies down, Roman falls silent, yet again. He keeps doing that. Going dark on me. Mostly, it seems like he’s been drifting off to another place in his mind. Getting lost in his thoughts. A few times, however, it’s seemed like he’s actively stopped himself from saying something to me. Something that was on the tip of his tongue. The same way he did on the patio at the bungalow earlier. If I’m right about that, then I’m dying to know what he’s been leaving unsaid.
Roman takes a sip of his wine. He takes another big bite of food. His Adam’s apple bobs. He looks out at the ocean through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the restaurant. Finally, when he returns to me, he asks, “Do you have a contract where you work?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you have a specified amount of time you’re contracted to remain at your job?”
I stare at him, too flabbergasted to answer. Where is he going with this?
“The reason I ask is, the other day, you said you’d like to moveto LA ‘one day,’ but not any time soon because you love your job in Denver. I’m wondering if you’ve got a contract that’ll keep you in Denver for a specified amount of time. And if so, when is it up?”
My heart is crashing. “I-I don’t have a contract like that. My employment is on an at-will basis, which means I can quit at any time and they can fire me at any time.” An epiphany strikes. I lean forward and whisper, “Is that where you’re going?” I mouth the rest. “LA?”
Roman smirks and nods.
“Oh my gosh,” I whisper-shout. “You’re getting your favorite coachandthe best weather in the world? No wonder you’re so excited.”
Roman laughs with glee. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I know I can trust you.” He looks around and then leans in to whisper, “The team has been in a rebuilding phase for its entire existence.” He laughs. “But the new team owners are committed to building a winning franchise. They believe in me. And with Coach there, too, and the players they’re gonna build around me, I know I’ll be able to deliver in a whole new way.”
“Of course you will. It’s so exciting, Roman.”
“And the best part is—” Roman abruptly stops talking and smashes lips together.
“What?” I prompt excitedly, leaning in, even more. “What’s the best part?”
Roman scratches the stubble on his chin. He takes a sip of his wine. Replaces his glass.
“What is it, Roman? Don’t leave me hanging, dude.”
