My first instinct is to excuse myself from this suite before she can see just how attracted I am to her and encourage her to continue staring at me like she’s contemplating beckoning me forward with a crook of her finger. My second . . . well, I think I’d move toward her before that finger lifted in the first place.
It’s not until I gather myself enough to meet her twinkling eyes that I close myself off, choosing option one.
“Hey, Rome. I didn’t know you were gonna be here,” Wesley announces, already crossing the suite to slap my arm.
I rock slightly at the impact. He moves on to Beck before I have a chance to reply. Though I had no plans of doing so. I don’t trust that I wouldn’t blurt out something completely unacceptable.
Brielle stretches one leg out in front of her and moves closer, smiling softly at me as she closes the gap between us that I should be extending. “Hello again.”
“Brielle,” I say tightly.
“Apparently, my brother was wrong about your distaste for rock music.”
“He wasn’t.”
A flawlessly filled-in eyebrow twitches but doesn’t jump up like I expect. “Then why are you here?”
“I’m not sure that’s your business.”
Fuck. I sound like a bastard.
“Either way, I can’t say that I’m disappointed you changed your mind,” she murmurs, bringing her hand from her hip up to brush her hair behind her shoulder. The loose curls are hardly long enough to skim it, which tells me she’s doing it for another reason entirely. “You’re here early, too. Most people don’t come to a concert until the opener’s already playing.”
I run my tongue along my teeth. “By that rule, you’re early, too.”
“That would be because my brother wanted to take advantage of all the free booze.”
“Last time I checked, he made more than enough to afford his own.”
She winks brazenly. “Great minds, Roman. That’s exactly what I told my brother.”
I clear my throat when my lower stomach clenches, blood running south. Warning bells blare in my ears once again, reminding me that casual conversation with the same woman I’ve been watching on an online NSFW site is not what I’m meant to be doing right now.
“Well, enjoy your night, Brielle,” I say offhandedly, already turning away?—
“The concert hasn’t even started yet. Don’t tell me you’re actually allergic to conversation. I assumed that was just a rumour,” she teases, having taken a step toward me.
I roll my jaw and adjust my shirt sleeve while looking at where Wesley and Beck are taking whiskey shots at the bar-top table. With my voice just low enough that only she can pick it up, I turn back to her and say, “Whatever idea you have in your head about me, abandon it. I’m not interested in little girls, Brielle. Especially not ones so closely related to players on my team. I won’t be entertaining the fantasies you’re playing out in your mind. Drop whatever this is before it becomes a problem.”
10
BRIELLE
“What the fuck?”I sputter.
The man in front of me doesn’t so much as blink at my outburst. He’s much too unfeeling for that, I’m sure. Though that reminder seems to help my instant mortification bleed more into outrage territory, because are you kidding me?
It’s one thing to not be attracted to me and explain that like a grown-up. It’s another to be brutally blunt about it in a clear attempt to get me to back off. That shit actually hurts.
“I’m going to give you a chance to take that back and say it a little nicer before I slap you,” I warn, offering him a decency that I usually never do.
Curse him for being so fucking attractive. Not to mention my brother’s boss. I can’t say that me storming forward and smacking him silly would end well for Wes.
Roman wears his unfeeling façade like it’s the most natural thing in the world while twirling the black ring on his thumb. “I’m not going to take it back. I meant what I said.”
“So, you’re just a jackass, then. What a shocker.” I pop open two fists on either side of my head, mimicking a brain explosion.
A vein in his temple pulses. “Have a good night.”
