Roman (Raleigh Raptors #2) - Samantha Whiskey Page 0,36

you to be the Prince Charming to her Cinderella.”

Roman hissed. “And I wanted to be the villain to your villain.”

I swallowed hard.

“I’m glad I didn’t listen to you,” he said. “I’m glad I didn’t dress up as her Prince.” He shook his head. “She didn’t ever truly care about me anyway.”

Some of that old darkness flickered over his features, and my heart ached at the memory. She’d sliced open the one insecurity Roman had, and I wasn’t sure if he’d ever truly gotten over it. And he deserved so much more than that. More than someone who saw him as flawed.

Because he was fucking perfect.

“What about the time we went as Little Red Riding Hood and the Wolf?” I asked, wanting to draw him back to the fun.

A smile broke his lips as he came back to the present. “Fifth grade. Fun year.”

I grinned back at him. “We’ve had so many fun years, yeah?”

This would be the first year I’d get to have fun again with him—the last three having been solely dedicated to keeping Rick from drinking too much. Not that he’d ever wanted to dress up with me.

“Yeah,” Roman said, and gazed at me for a bit before nodding. “Yeah, we have.”

I sucked in a contented breath, thinking back on all the truly great memories I had with Roman.

“What is it?” Roman asked when I’d continued to smile at him.

I breached the distance between us and wrapped my arms around him, hugging him tight. “Thank you,” I said into his neck.

“For what?” He asked, easily wrapping his arms around my back to hold me to him.

“For giving me a lifetime of good memories.”

Ones I now realized were powerful enough to chase away three years of darkness.

9

Roman

The bass thumped through the club the Raptors had rented out for the night. Halloween —when it didn’t fall the night before a game—had been a thing with the Raptors for at least as long as I had been a part of the team.

Streams of light shot through the fog-filled air, illuminating the people on the dance floor, and I made damned sure I could see Teagan from where I stood at the bar with Nixon. She was currently on the dance floor with Liberty, but definitely had her share of requests. Not that I gave a shit who she danced with—we weren’t a couple…right? But there was no fucking way I’d let Rick anywhere near her.

Not when she was finally coming alive again.

I saw it now, the way her laugh hadn’t reached her eyes for the last couple of years. I’d known something was off, but Teagan hadn’t opened up, and I hadn’t pushed. It was none of my business what went on in her relationship, right?

Right.

But that didn’t stop the gnawing, sinking feeling in my gut that tackled me every time I thought about how long it had gone on right underneath my nose.

I wished I would have pushed harder.

“Nice skirt,” Hendrix laughed, taking the vacant spot at my side.

“Fuck off. It’s a shendyt.” I glanced down at my bare torso Teagan had insisted on oiling, over the black arm cuffs, to Hendrix’s Carolina Reaper Jersey. “I didn’t know you were a hockey fan.”

“Who are you supposed to be?” Nixon asked.

“Only the best athlete in professional sports.” Hendrix grinned and turned around, sporting NOBLE across his back—Nixon’s twin, Nathan. “Heard he’s his mom’s favorite, too.”

“Oh shit!” I laughed.

“Seriously?” Nixon sighed.

“Guy has some serious talent,” Hendrix replied with a shrug. “Heard his brother plays football or something. Not sure.”

“Nice.” Nixon shook his head as a group of cheerleaders walked up to us.

“Hey Roman, wanna dance?” One of them asked, batting her brown eyes up at me and laying her hand on my exposed bicep. This one was a brunette with long legs and a playboy bunny costume, but just like the others—I didn’t know her name. Some of the other guys might sample, but I wasn’t an eat-where-you-work kind of guy.

My gaze immediately drifted to T, who—of course—happened to be looking right at me with kohl-rimmed eyes. She nipped her lip right between her teeth but didn’t slow the swing of her hips as Zedd pumped through the speakers.

Fuuuuuck, those hips were magical, and her floor-length costume had two slits up the side so they peeked through with every swish her body made to the music. The deep V of her top showed enough cleavage to make my mouth water, and the lights caught on the gold belt holding it all together,