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Don’t Tie Me Down

Page 92

by Jeré Anthony

I breathe a sigh, feeling my walls beginning to crumble. “It’s the reason I’m here. It’s the reason I’m working for you, why I applied for the job at all, actually…”

He stares back at me, a look of confusion pulling at his brow. “Sorry. I’m not following.”

“You know the whole viral video that blew up online?”

He nods, giving me space to open up and tell my side of the story.

“As you can imagine, it made a pretty big stink for me professionally…” I take another sip of my cocktail, needing the liquid courage more than ever.

“Yeah, I can see that…”

“Well, in order to keep my movie deals—and not serve jail time—” I mumble that last part under my breath, hoping I’m not scaring him away. When he doesn’t react, I continue, “I was sentenced to complete one hundred hours of community service…and an anger management program.” I roll my eyes at the absurdity. “Let’s just say my therapist is quite innovative with her methods. She has a whole list of rules for me to follow, and if I don’t finish them by the end of the summer, she won’t sign off on my treatment.”

“So is that the book you’ve been reading?”

Why am I surprised he noticed? The man doesn’t miss a single detail…especially when it comes to me, it seems.

“Yep. That’s the one,” I say. “Riveting stuff.”

“What are some of the rules?” he asks, seeming genuinely curious.

I tap my finger to my lip as I try to recall a few from memory. “Let’s see, there’s: Rule #6: Master the art of self-pleasure… and Rule #7: Have remarkable sex and have it often…”

Roman laughs. “Okay, those don’t sound that bad,” he says, fingers trailing over my arm in soothing strokes. I’ve never been much on being touched, but every time I’m near Roman, I find myself leaning in, as if my body craves it.

His fingertips trail over a ticklish spot, sending a shiver over me. I shake it out with a giggle. “Yeah. I guess not. Some of them are just so vague. I have no idea what to do for half of them.”

I’m trying not to stress about that, but it’s overwhelming knowing there are so many things I need to experience with such a limited amount of time.

He goes quiet for a moment. “I could help you out, if you want?”

I smack his chest and roll my eyes. “Yeah, I guess I walked right into that one.”

He catches my hand and interlaces our fingers together. “I’m being serious. This is the shit I was born for.”

The walls around my heart constrict, reminding me that even though he’s saying all the right things right now, it doesn’t mean he won’t end up hurting me when all of this is said and done. It’s only temporary. It isn’t real.

I cut my eyes at him and narrow my gaze. “Okay, cocky…”

“That’s not what I meant.” His brown eyes crinkle with amusement, and he scrubs a hand over his jaw. “I’m just saying, I could use a little distraction from thinking about work. And I also enjoy being of service. If you haven’t noticed.” He boops my nose, instantly disarming me and I can practically feel my defenses deflate.

How is this man real?

His promising words unleash a swarm of drunken butterflies in my stomach, all crashing into each other at full speed. It’s a clusterfuck of epic proportions.

How the hell am I supposed to say no to that?

“Come on, you should get some sleep.” He rises to his feet and offers me a hand.

I pause for a moment. Did he say sleep?

He must notice my confusion because he chuckles lightly. “You’ve had a big day, and your sister warned me about how cranky you get when you don’t get your full eight hours.”

“Oh, so you two are teaming up on me now?”

He shrugs. “If you consider looking out for you teaming up, then yes, we most certainly are.”

I’m not sure how to respond to that. It feels surreal knowing that this man I barely know has cared for me more in the past few weeks than my own husband did in three years.