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I blame my lapse of judgment on those ridiculous dimples. Apparently, I’m a sucker for dimples.

Oh well, at least if I’m being forced to get out and socialize, I’ll have the ever-charming Roman Kingsley by my side to ease any discomfort. For as loved as he is in this town, as long as I blend into the background, there’s a good chance I could fly under the radar and go unnoticed.

Maybe it’s a long shot, but a girl can hope.

When we arrive at Restaurant, the parking lot is already packed. Roman makes a few circles as I try to ignore the intoxicating scent of his cologne that seems to drift my way every time he turns his head. I adjust the air vents, pointing them all toward him, but it only seems to make it worse.

Why is my body so affected by him? Why can’t I shake this stupid crush?

Maybe because you’ve already slept with him…or maybe it’s because only two days ago you watched him jerk off⁠—

Okay, I think that’s enough rhetorical questions for one evening.

I pull down the visor and examine my makeup for the third time in the ten-minute drive. I don’t know why I’m so nervous—besides the obvious, anyway. It’s not like I’m the one performing tonight.

Irritation burns through me when I catch Roman’s smirk out of the corner of my eye, but to his credit, he doesn’t comment or even tease me. And for some reason, I find that even more annoying. Like he’s trying to be on his best behavior, like he’s flipped back to boss mode, not wanting to cross any lines that could be considered unprofessional.

Where was that energy when he was gawking at me this morning by the pool?

I bite my lip thinking back to the way he eye-fucked me this morning, how seeing him shirtless was just as bewitching as it was that first night. The way the muscles rippled when he pulled off his shirt revealing his broad, muscular chest…and those delicious biceps… My vagina is purring just thinking about it.

Roman rolls over a curb and I drag my lip gloss across my cheek, jolted out of my trance as he carves his own parking spot into the mud beneath a tree.

I wipe the sticky maroon goo with the heel of my hand as I look at the mud surrounding us. “Is this even a real parking spot?”

“It is now,” he says with a shrug, then climbs out of the truck, slamming the door behind him.

“Says the person who isn’t wearing heels,” I mumble under my breath as I reach for the door handle. But my door swings open before I can touch it.

Roman quirks a brow. “What was that?”

I grit my teeth. “Nothing. Just saying how thrilled I’ll be to get this over with.” I start to climb down, then let out a yelp when he scoops me up in a cradle carry. “Roman, what are you⁠—”

“You really thought I’d make you walk through mud?” He shakes his head. “Come on, surely you know my mother raised me better than that.”

Something electric shoots through me at the feeling of being pressed against his strong chest. My whole body grows stiff.

Roman clears the mud puddle, but it isn’t until we reach the concrete sidewalk that he gently sets me down to walk the rest of the way.

My legs feel wobbly, and he places his hands on my hips to steady me. He drags his eyes up my body until they finally reach my own.

“We should probably go in,” he says, offering me his arm.

I swallow a lump in my throat and take it.

The stark differences between Roman and Augustus are hard to ignore. Not that I have any right to compare them. Still, I can’t help but wonder if this was how it was supposed to feel. Even in the beginning, it was never like this… How could I have ever believed what we had was love?

We make our way up the steps amid the swarm of people, and Roman must notice my unease because he dips his head, his lips barely grazing the shell of my ear, and asks, “You good?”

I know it’s probably nothing more than a thoughtful gesture, but it doesn’t stop the flutters in my stomach. Jesus, Kira, get it together. He’s literally just being kind. Is the bar really that low?

“Yeah,” I say, breathier than I intended.

As if he’s unsure if I’m being honest, Roman holds my gaze. Those brown eyes warm and steady, like worn leather. “Let me know if you’re uncomfortable and we can leave.”

Not wanting to risk my voice betraying me a second time, I just nod.

The large space has been completely transformed. Round tables draped in white tablecloths and fancy place settings form a semi-circle with other smaller tables sprinkled in. The back wall is draped in black curtains, creating a stage for the actors to slip behind.