Roman (Raleigh Raptors #2) - Samantha Whiskey Page 0,8
those things...those material possessions I thought were mine? They weren’t really. They were his. Purchased by him and for his benefit. I hadn’t thought it at the time…
Fuck. I didn’t even want that stuff. I just wanted the one box that meant anything to me, the one I’d brought with me when I’d moved in with him.
Roman sat my phone on the counter, his eyes on mine. “I already told you, you can stay with me,” he said, and the kindness in his voice only made me cry harder. “For however long you need.”
I stood up and hugged him, cried into his chest like I had when we were kids, and my beloved dog had passed. This was a different kind of grief—one where I’d lost a chunk of my life without realizing it. One where I’d downed in a puddle of water a few inches deep, slow and agonizing.
And now that I could breathe again?
It felt like razor blades in my lungs.
Felt like shame and stupidity and fear.
Because I truly had nothing.
I’d allowed him to take everything I had.
Allowed him to shape and mold me into something perfect for him.
Allowed him to slice me into pieces until I couldn’t recognize myself anymore.
And I didn’t have a clue how to put myself back together.
3
Roman
“Good boy,” I told Walt as I filled his bowl with water. We’d just finished a seven-mile run, and the sweat dripping down my chest was starting to chill. The house was a steady seventy-degrees, just the way I liked it, but outside it was a thick, sticky ninety-one.
And it was only eleven.
I’d just grabbed a little hydration and was headed for the shower when Teagan stormed through the kitchen, bearing yet another dozen roses.
She’d been here eighteen days, and this was the eighteenth flower arrangement that the asshole had sent.
“I fucking hate roses, not that you’d ever paid attention, jackass.” She opened the trash can with her foot, then dumped the roses in bloom-first, saving the vase just like she had the previous seventeen and adding it to her growing collection on the far side of the kitchen, along with a few more expensive gifts she hadn’t touched since opening.
“How could he not know that about you?” I questioned.
She spun and gasped, her hand flying to her throat. “How long have you been there?”
My eyebrows hit the ceiling. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I just got back from my run.” Damn, she was jumpy. Every time I startled her only reminded me how little I’d seen of her in the past year—and how little of that had been unchaperoned.
Her gaze skimmed over the bare skin of my chest and abs. “Right.” She blinked rapidly, looking away as her cheeks turned pink. “Don’t apologize. It’s your house. I’m the intruder.”
“You’re the guest. There’s a difference.” Hell, I’d put her on the title if it made her feel better. “Now seriously. You dated him for three years. How could he not know that your favorite flowers are lilies? Isn’t that first-year boyfriend material?” I leaned back against the counter and downed some of my recovery drink.
“It was never important enough to make an issue out of it.” She shrugged. “Besides, who complains when their boyfriend brings them roses?”
“Someone who thinks they smell like a funeral?” I suggested, tilting my head.
She looked ready to retort, but after a few seconds, she nodded. “They do.”
“Not arguing.”
She flashed me a quick smile and tucked her hair behind her ears.
Fuck, she was beautiful. Zero makeup, hair down and wild, standing barefoot in her lone pair of shorts, barely visible under one of my Raptor’s shirts. Not that she wasn’t a knockout when she got dressed up—the woman could stop traffic. But there was something about seeing her like this that had me gripping my bottle a little tighter. She was effortlessly exquisite.
“What?” she asked, glancing down like something she wore could explain the way I was obviously staring.
“You’re beautiful.”
“Shut. Up.” She scoffed and shot me a glare, just like always. “Oh, and sorry, I stole the shirt from your closet.”
Just like she had for the last eighteen days. “What’s mine is yours. Though, if you check the medicine cabinet, you’ll see that I may have run out for a few supplies while you were sleeping.”
“Like?” Her brow puckered.
“There might be a new razor in there along with some other little things I know you like.” I downed the rest of my drink.