Roman (Raleigh Raptors #2) - Samantha Whiskey Page 0,53

between us to stand before him. “Do you know how happy you make me?” I smiled up at him, and he blew out a tight breath. I tilted my head—was that relief I saw in his eyes?

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do, Teagan,” he said, his right hand shifting a little in his pocket.

“You always have,” I admitted. “My best friend, my partner in everything. My supporter.” Emotion clogged my throat. “And now…with what’s going on between us…” I bit my lip to keep from crying. “I want to move out.”

Roman jolted, shoving the hand that had been about to come out of his pocket further in it. He took a step back, then another, shock and regret and panic coloring those dark eyes.

“No, Roman.” I cringed and quickly raised my hands at his retreat. “Oh, God. I’m sorry.”

“Teagan?” He arched a brow at my rambling.

“Okay,” I said, raking my fingers through my hair. “Let me explain.”

“Yes,” he said, nodding a bit rapidly. “Please, do.”

I tried not to laugh at the tease in his voice. “I’ve never been happier in my entire life than when I’m with you. And a part of me has always known that.” My eyes lilted to the side, a thousand memories playing on full-speed through my mind, filling my heart with each realization of how important Roman had always been to me, and what it meant now. “And I don’t want to move out, but I need to.”

He tilted his head, some of his dark hair falling across his brow.

“I need to stand on my own,” I continued. “Be independent for myself, and for you. I want to be a true partner to you, Roman. Not just the best friend who came to crash at your house and ended up staying forever.” My eyes widened, and I hurried to continue. “Not that I’d stay forever. I mean, I would.” I cringed again, and Roman laughed. “I’m not saying you’d want me forever…” My voice trailed off with a huff, and I raised my hand. “Can I start over?”

Roman kept laughing as he broke the distance between us, sliding his arms around my back to haul me to him. “You don’t have to start over,” he said, teasing my nose with his. “I understand.”

“You do?”

He nodded.

“Of course, you do,” I said. “You’re perfect.”

“You are,” he chided before nipping at my bottom lip. Instantly, my thoughts were far from apartment hunting and closer to Roman hunting. “And I completely understand the need to take ownership of your life.”

A soft sigh escaped my lips at how well he understood me.

“But,” he said, and I held my breath. “Can I beg one thing?”

I nodded, unable to find my voice.

“Can we schedule sleepovers?” That sly smirk shaped his lips, and I matched his happiness with a smile that nearly hurt it was so real.

Roman understood me.

Respected me.

Supported me.

He didn’t try to sway me. Control me. Or tell me he knew what was best for me.

And I may have melted a little more for my best friend right then, just for that simple acceptance, if I wasn’t already a complete puddle for the man.

“Yes,” I said and slanted my lips over his.

He scooped me off the floor, and walked us to his bedroom, barely breaking for a second before he laid me on the bed.

“Since you’re moving out,” he said, trailing his fingers along my thighs as he parted them enough to settle between them. “I better make use of the time I have you here.”

Warm shivers danced over my skin as he crushed his lips on mine, claiming my mouth until I was breathless.

Then he did the same to my body.

Until we were both limp and sated and utterly, truly happy.

“A walk-out is all you have available?” I asked the leasing agent as she showed me around the modest yet chic two-bedroom apartment.

“Yes,” she said. “This unit just became available, and it’s our only one for now. Another lease is scheduled to end in six months. It’s a third-floor level.”

I chewed on my bottom lip, rolling my shoulders as I checked out the guest bedroom. The Krav Maga class this morning had been brutal, and my muscles were aching because of it. But, at the same time, it had been so damn empowering. I felt stronger with each class, mentally and physically.

Almost strong enough to face Rick on his own territory and get my stuff back.

Or, one thing in particular.

My heart ached for that hidden shoebox, but I placed