I fail to smother my smile and let it blow out across my face instead. “Mm, other than the fact it’s been almost seven days since I’ve had you inside of me?”
“Open the door before I get us both public indecency charges.”
“You’re not helping with your dirty talk.”
“I’m so fucked with you,” he whispers, but there’s no worry there. No regrets.
That lift at the end of his sentence is pure adoration.
“How else are we supposed to keep each other young? You especially,” I tease, letting my ass press back against his groin as I successfully unlock the door.
His palm wraps around my hip, the heat of it burning through the athletic fabric. “Get inside, brat.”
“But you feel so good right here.”
“Brielle,” he groans, nipping at the shell of my ear. “Now.”
I laugh and finally take a step back to open the door. He follows closely behind me, not straying as we venture into the dark studio. Suddenly, the lights turn on, and I blink quickly to adjust to the brightness.
“Okay, you have me here. Now what?”
“Patience,” he purrs before finally leaving me standing alone at the centre of what I thought was an art gallery.
I examine the empty walls that months ago were covered with bright paintings and these almost waxy-looking sculpted pieces. The desk I remember seeing an old woman standing behind is gone, leaving only a dusty outline behind. Come to think of it, even the paint on the walls is brighter where paintings once hung.
This place was emptied recently enough that the new owner hasn’t had a chance to clean it up.
Panic burns my stomach lining. “Evie’s still working upstairs, right? Did she get kicked out? I swear to God I will get her back in here, Roman?—”
“She’s still upstairs, baby. Petal wouldn’t have dared move her, and not because she was scared you’d find out where shelived and beat her up. She’s eighty-three, by the way. In case you were still thinking about it.”
I spin on the heels of my sneakers and glare at where Roman’s standing near the huge window. I was wrong about it being boarded up. It’s a dark brown paper hung on the inside of it instead, keeping the inside of the building invisible to those on the street.
“I’d take the judgment and still give her a few swats if she upset Evie. Old woman or not,” I say stubbornly. “Who even is this Petal?”
His plump lips curl at the corners as he crosses his arms and holds my stare. “I have no doubt that you would. You care for my niece in a way that makes me love you more. Even if that means you’d beat up a poor old woman on her behalf. The same one who’s been a bit of a mother hen for both me and Evie for the last decade or so.”
“I’ll have you know that some of the biggest jerks I’ve ever met are above the age of seventy.”
“We’re not here to talk about old folks, Brielle,” he lightly scolds, clearly trying to keep me on course.
“Tell me the reason, then.”
“If I were to ask you to describe the next ten years, what would you say?”
I narrow my eyes. “Is this a test?”
“No. No test, sweetheart. Just tell me the truth.”
“Alright,” I start, lowering my hands to my hips. “Ifyou were to ask me that, I’d say that I want to be married to you and living in that big, beautiful house of yours, although only if you let me bring an interior decorator in or something. It’s so boring, Roman. Seriously, it could use some colour.”
He lowers his arms to his sides as he nods, watching me carefully with the softest eyes I’ve ever seen.
“Next, I want to get Soft Body off the ground. I know I need a real website and to get shots done of all the clothes I’ve got piling up in my closet. It’s like a land mine in there.”
He only tips his chin, encouraging me to continue.
“And . . . everything else I already have. I’d like to see the rest of the guys happy, too. Especially my brother. He deserves to find love. Oh! And obviously, Aubrey and Finn to be married, too. Somewhere out of the country, because Finn’s filthy rich, and if there’s one proper way to spend all that money, it’s on a wedding worthy of my best friend.”
