“Well, I can’t anymore,” he says reasonably. “Most of what I was sitting on is gone.”
“You can’t just buy someone’s house,” I say again, stronger now. “You can’t just—you can’t.”
I vaguely hear Tyler speak from further down the path; a muttered word of warning to Roman.
“I’d back up a bit, man.”
But Roman doesn’t. “A rental property was a solid investment,” he says calmly. “And I needed something to do with my money. Something good.” For the first time, grim regret spreads over his features. “It’s fine if you’re mad.”
“I know it’s fine,” I snap as my body burns. “And I am mad.”
“I figured you would be,” he says with a slow nod. “Whether you stay or move out tomorrow, though, I’m going to keep renting this place. It’s a smart move, especially with the way Lucky is growing. There aren’t many apartment complexes in town yet, either.” He pauses. “We’ll sign a new contract so you can have everything in writing and legally enforceable. No rugs will be pulled out from under your feet.” He shoots a brief glare at Tyler, even though I don’t think Tyler can hear him when Roman is speaking so softly.
But I’ve heard every word, and they’re all ringing in my skull, and none of this is what I wanted to say or hear or talk about.
“Take your time,” Roman says, his eyes still regretful. “I’ll be around.”
Then he turns away with a sigh and heads toward Tyler.
My head spins, and my thoughts tangle, and my feelings war with each other until they burst out of me.
“Are you coming to the auction tomorrow?”
I blurt the question abruptly. Harshly, even. My voice is full of everything simmering under my skin.
I’m angry, yes. But I know—Iknow—I’ll regret not asking.
Roman freezes, completely still, and turns slowly to look at me once more. There’s nothing in his eyes I can decipher.
Then he moves.
Closer, closer, swift steps like he’s been waiting for me to ask, until he reaches me, and the rise and fall of his chest are more noticeable than only moments ago. He leans down until again our faces are level.
“Why?” he says softly, cocking one brow at me. He doesn’t move, doesn’t step away, and I can once more feel his words in little puffs against my skin, smell the mint of his breath and his sharp, crisp scent. “Do you want me to come?”
My jaw glues itself shut, but I have a feeling my internal debate is written all over my face anyway.
“Ask,” Roman breathes when I remain silent. Challenge flashes in his gaze as he goes on. “If you want me to come, ask.”
From somewhere off to the side Tyler mutters something under his breath again, but I’m not paying enough attention to decipher what. The only thing I can focus on is the man in front of me—and there’s something poetic there about leaving the past behind, but it too escapes me at the moment.
Thought, attention, speech—they’re all frozen.
After a brief second of silence, Roman shrugs and straightens up, pulling his eyes away from mine.
“Suit yourself,” he says, and I know I’m not imagining the thread of disappointment I hear. He strides swiftly past me and down the walk toward Tyler. “You’re not on the schedule today.”
“It’s supposed to rain next week,” Tyler says, still looking back and forth between Roman and me.
Another shrug from Roman, little more than a twitch of his shoulders, and then he’s off again. He lifts one hand in a wave and calls back to us: “Play nicely, you two. I have security cameras installed.”
Tyler rolls his eyes while I gape at Roman’s disappearing form—no more than a moment later, he’s in his car, backing out of the driveway, and then he’s gone.
He’s gone, and I’m left staring at my past as it grimaces at me.
“You like him,” Tyler says. It’s not a question.
“So?” I say, looking back to the street where Roman’s car is now well out of sight.
