“Seriously, Roman?” I snap, propping myself up on my elbows. My response sounds muted—my rage has long since faded, and I’m too tired to fight with him.
He doesn’t argue with me right away like I expect him to. He just stares at me with his typical unreadable expression.
“You could’ve died last night,” he finally says, tension feathering across his jaw.
My heart squeezes. I know I almost did. That’s why I’m pissed off that he just wants to be a jerk as if nothing happened.
Roman opens his mouth like he wants to say more, but then his brows pinch together with confliction. Don’t tell me he actually has emotions.
I give him a steady glare. “I’m aware.”
He stares at me for a few seconds longer before cursing and running his hand through his hair. Roman turns and faces the door like he’s about to leave, but he doesn’t move a muscle. He stands there and fists his hands at his sides before sighing and letting his shoulders slack.
“Thank you.”
My jaw drops and my brows lift. Did he justthankme? “What for?” I say in a clipped tone, not letting him off the hook that easily.
Roman whirls on me, a fire in his gaze that matches the one I saw in his eyes at the race. He comes down on the bed and straddles my body, hands pressing into the mattress on either side of my head.
I inhale sharply and firm my lips, refusing to give him the satisfaction of whimpering in fear at his stupid games.
He lets his gaze move to my mouth, shifting closer and letting his lips brush against the shell of my ear. I hold my breath, waiting for him to whisper something cruel, but nothing comes.
Roman breathes me in and leans back to look into my eyes once more. “Thank you for not letting me drown. You…saved my life.” The way he says it makes it seem like he’s in so much agony—like he’s never had to thank someone before.
I bite my lower lip and decide to not tease him. For the first time it seems like he’s genuinely trying to be nice to me. Even if he called me a whore, like, two hours ago.
“You saved me first.” I soften my gaze and offer a meek smile in an attempt at a truce. Roman studies me like he’s searching for some ulterior motive in my features.
Now that I know he’s in some secret military operation, I guess his demeanor makes more sense—his emotionless reactions to everything, his violent behavior, the distrust in his eyes.
I observe him back in equal silence. It’s a mutual exchange of consideration for each other, like we are only now truly trying to understand the other. I see his scars differently—some must be from dangerous missions. But the one that looks self-inflicted… What’s the story there? Would he ever tell a soul?
Something tells me the answer is no.
“I shouldn’t have…but I can’t seem to keep myself on track with you.” Roman sits up at the edge of the bed and lets his gaze drop as he focuses on something on the floor across the room. “You’re awfully distracting.”
“You’d have let me die?” I say, more humorously than not.
His mask cracks, and he looks at me with a lopsided grin. It’s so innocent, yet his words are venom. “I’ve let many before you die, Squirt. Even the pretty ones.”
My pulse flutters at his daring gaze, and I swallow the knot forming in my throat. “Why save me then? You didn’t have to protect me.”
Roman frowns slightly, letting his eyes fall to the cuts on my legs. “Because you are peculiar, Briar. Sad and broken. Lost and hopeless. You strive to survive so desperately, but you don’t know why.” He pauses and holds his hand up to the sliver of warm amber light that cuts through the shadows of the room from the window. His scarred hand lights up, and warmth is reflected in his somber expression.
It might just be the weariness that tugs at my eyes or the heaviness in my bones, but I find him achingly beautiful in this moment, touching the strands of light but staring longingly as if they are not his to take.
His hazel eyes shift my way, refracting the amber hues like autumn fire. “I’ve only ever seen that kind of hopeless drive in the Dark Forces soldiers. So why does a young woman like yourself have a burdensome amount of trouble in her lonely eyes?”
My jaw trembles, and the cold seeps further into my bones. “Don’t act like you care to know.” I rub my arms.
Roman leans closer, eyes unmoving and narrowing on mine. “Don’t mistake curiosity for caring, Briar. It makes you look daft.”
I purse my lips and try shoving him back. He doesn’t budge. There’s something so sexy about his strength, but it’s annoying that he feels the need to show off. Heat coils in my stomach with him being this close.
“Get out. I’m going to bed.” I stand to get some distance from him, pulling my shirt over my head and letting it fall to the ground without a second thought.
His hands are caressing me before I even hear him stand up. The soft pad of his finger glides down my shoulder blade.
