“Felicity wanted one. I gave in to her. But it’s tiring. You’ll understand one day.” Peter’s eyes flick to me for only a second. “If you last long enough.”
Roman pushes his stool out from beneath the counter. The ends scrape along the tiled floor and the room goes silent. “Don’t ever refer to my marriage as if you understand it,” he says, jaw clenched. Then, beet-faced and hot, he turns his attention to Felicity. “You really don’t mind if Iwake him? I think we’d better go. I’d like to say goodbye now.”
Felicity swallows, her permanent grin and winks absent. “Sure. Go ahead.”
I follow Roman—not willing to stay behind in the kitchen with Peter and Felicity—but stand in the doorway as Roman sits on the edge of Mason’s bed.
“Hey, Mr. Crab,” he says, a hand on Mason’s back. “Stella and I have to go back home. Can you wake up and say goodbye?”
My heart hurts. For Peter’s idiocy. For Roman and Mason’s goodbye. For Brice. I miss him. And a great big part of me wants his advice when it comes to Roman. I am falling fast and hard for his best friend. What would he think about that now?
“Goodbye?” Mason says—his little voice full of confusion, as if he thought we might stay forever.
“Yeah. But I talked to your mom. She said you could come visit me and we can talk on the phone. You can tell me all the facts you know about crabs.”
Mason lifts one hand in the air, one finger protruding. “Crabs have ten legs. And ten claws. They?—”
“Whoa. You better save some facts for when I call you tomorrow. Okay?” Roman smiles at the boy. But I see what he sees, the sorrow in Mason’s face. It mimics Roman’s.
“You could sleep on my bed,” Mason tells him. He scoots three inches to the side. “There’s room.”
“I’m sorry, Mase. I have to go home. But I’ll be back. Because we’re brothers.”
Mason grins and pats his hand to Roman’s forearm and the tattoo written in Brice’s handwriting. “Brothers,” he says.
“And Stella’s the best sister you could ask for.”
Mason’s eyes flick to me and he grins. “Okay.”
A tear falls down my cheek and I swat it away before either of them can see.
Mason stretches his little arms around Roman’s neck and hugs him goodbye. I watch as his clawed fingers pinch Roman’s hair. “I love you, big brother.”
Fifty-One
Canyou fall in love with someone in only a matter of weeks?
True love?
Is that possible?
What if you spend every minute of every day with that person, does that take the short timeline of a mere seven weeks multiply by ten?
Can you fall in love then?
This timewhen we leave the Baxter’s home, Roman and I are hand in hand. We have talked to, eaten with, and celebrated with the other members of the Red Tails. Some embraced Roman and his new-to-them friendly nature while others exchanged glances as if they’d entered the twilight zone.
They’ll getover it.
My favorite part was when Lucca Cruz asked if he could still call Roman the Graveyard. Roman only snickered, which Lucca took as confirmation.
We pause at a stop light in town, just twenty minutes from home. I press my lips together and peer at Roman across the console of his Ford Bronco. “You seem happy.”
“I am happy,” he says. He returns my look, his eyes dropping to my mouth. He leans toward me, and I meet him halfway, my pulse quickening with his nearness. Just before Roman’s lips touch mine, my phone jingles with a call.
I brush my mouth over his before leaning back in my seat. Roman sits back too, taking off with the change of the light.
“It’s Willow,” I say. “FaceTime call.”
