stuffing food into my mouth, just to avoid having to talk.
Over the course of dinner, I feel his gaze on me, and every once in a while, we lock eyes, but it never lasts for long. One of us looks away, before things can get awkward. I try not to read into it. The dining room is small. It’s not like there are many other places for him to look.
“So, Rome, what do you do for a living?” my mother asks, between bites of her salad. She sounds far too chipper, causing me to shoot a frown her way.
What’s she up to?
Roman shoots her what I now realize is his signature grin. “I work at an automotive shop downtown called George’s Garage. I fix up cars and handle a bunch of odds and ends for the owner, George.”
My mother hmms, utterly transfixed. She shoots me a look across the table, pointedly wagging her brows between Roman and me. I don’t know how it happened, but somehow, we both ended up on the same side of the table, sitting opposite my parents. Like we’re a couple. One happy fucking couple. Not a pair of neighbors who have been pranking each other, recklessly, and hate each other’s guts.
I’m quite certain this is the most awkward dinner I’ve ever been to.
And, believe me, I’ve been to my fair share. Hell, Reid and I broke off our engagement over dinner at a fancy restaurant in Long Beach.
We let the oddness of it all pass through us. Because there’s no way he doesn’t feel how strange this really is. And in these small moments, I notice something enter his eyes. It’s almost…soft. So unlike the man sitting next to me. He wears such a hard exterior, and he wears it well, but now, I can’t help but wonder what he’s really like inside.
Who is Roman?
Suddenly, I have a deep-seated need to learn everything about this man sitting beside me. To know every moment he carries around. To witness every experience that has molded and shaped him into this unique creature who seems like the strongest, most closed-off person I’ve ever met in my entire life. With a face meant to be worshipped, a body meant to sin, and a smile birthed straight from the depths of hell, my neighbor is an enigma that has successfully burrowed under my skin.
He seems to enjoy conversing with my dad. They too easily bond over sports, cars, and everything else under the sun. His chuckle isn’t husky or deep, much like it has been every time I’ve heard it so far. No, this time, it’s quite boyish. He seems to be enjoying himself, and it makes me wonder when’s the last time he enjoyed the company of someone else. Other than that of a woman. When has he gone out to eat with family or friends? Not at a bar or a party, but just sitting down and enjoying simple conversations? By the looks of it, I’d say never. And the realization alone makes me soften toward Roman. It makes me wonder what kind of childhood he had that this, this barbecue with my parents, would make him this upbeat. This calm and content. Something I’ve never seen from the high-strung guy next door.
“So, I hear you’ve been helping Liv around the house? What was the issue with the plumbing, or was it the piping?”
The guys proceed to go into specifics, and my mom sits there, wearing a wide Cheshire cat grin on her face. I know what she’s thinking, but it’s not like that. Not even close. Rome was just being a (somewhat) friendly neighbor by offering. I refuse to look into it any further than that.
Hell, maybe some part of him felt lousy for always acting like a dick toward me? One can only hope.
“Do you live alone, Roman? Any girlfriends?”
“Mom.” I sigh tiredly. “You can’t ask questions like that.”
She tosses her hand in the air, exasperatedly, then lets it drop to her lap in such a dramatic fashion that I have no other choice than to roll my eyes. “My goodness, Liv, I’m making conversation, not asking the man for his social security number. Just calm down and eat your food, sweetie.”
Roman covers the lower portion of his face with his napkin, obviously hiding the fact that he’s smiling. No, laughing at me behind there. I shoot a glare at my mother. She seems to sense this isn’t the direction I want the conversation to go,