Page 11 of Precious Legacy

“… Lani?”

“Huh?” My gaze shoots up to Haven’s. She’s gaping at me, wondering what the hell is going on. I’m wondering the same thing.

She reaches across the table, taking my hand. “I’m sorry.”

“H…how do you know he’s back for good? I thought he was going back to L.A.?”

She offers me a sad smile, understanding flowing through the simple touch of her hand on mine. She knows that the only thing keeping me sane was the distance Roman had placed between us. It’s taken everything I have to try and move on, and yeah, maybe I did forget about all the hurt for a brief moment while he was fucking me with my gun, but that doesn’t mean I’m okay with this.I am not okay.

“Haldon told me. Said he’s working on the dens and something else.”

I don’t have to question what she means. Roman took over the gambling dens from Uncle Trigger a while back. I thought he’d just forgotten about them, because they’ve been run into the ground according to Aunt Lexie. Now, I realize Roman just needed a reason to come back.

Fuck.

“I would have told you sooner, but Haldon only told me this morning as I was heading to my lecture,” she tacks on apologetically.

I nod, but no words seem to come out. My worst nightmare is coming true. I guess it was probably naïve of me to think Roman would stay in L.A. for good. It was only a matter of time before he edged his way back into my life.

“Shit!” Haven mutters, glancing down at her phone. “I need to go, but…” her eyes soften as she takes in my shaky state.

“I’ll be fine,” I whisper back. It’s unconvincing, but Haven doesn’t push the matter. She stands up from the table, slipping her coat and hat back on before grabbing her to-go cup.

“Text me later?” she asks, though I’m pretty sure she’s telling me.

I nod again, my thoughts drowning me as she gives me an awkward hug before leaving. I must sit there for at least another hour, wondering how the hell I’m supposed to move on with my life while Roman is prowling around. Five years was barely enough to get over the intensity of our relationship, and that was with over two thousand miles between us. Now, I run the risk of seeing the asshole around every corner.

“Fuck this,” I grumble, pushing away from the table. I need to clear my head before I do something stupid. The gym usually helps with that, so I set the wheels in motion, motivating myself to head to my local gym.

Only as soon as I push out the door of the coffee shop, I come face to face with the very person I want to avoid.

“Presh,” Roman purrs my nickname as he leans against his bike, arms folded and watching my every move. He’s wearing leathers that hug his lean form, every muscle squeezed into the material. His blonde hair is pushed back, most likely messy from the helmet that sits on the tank of the Silver Suzuki Hayabusa.

I’m torn between rolling my eyes and drooling because even though the asshole looks good—and he knows it—I still don’t want to interact with the guy. I tilt my head, taking in the bike behind him, the sleek paintwork reflecting like a bullet in the sunlight. This time, there’s no way I can resist the urge to roll my eyes because he’s flaunting my favorite bike in my face. It’s not that I can’t afford one, but I’ve grown pretty close to my Aunt Lexie’s Ducati Streetfighter. The matte black paintwork with exposed titanium exhaust just calls to me. I got it fromLexie for my twenty-first birthday, but I’ve never really had the chance to ride it properly.

Roman pats the leather seat beside him, a smirk curving his lips as he reads the thoughts passing through my head. “Wanna ride?”

“With you?” I scoff. “No thanks.” I sidestep him as he stalks forward.

“Come on, Lani. You’re starting to hurt my feelings with all this pushback.”

Cutting him a glare, I force back all the ugly words I want to say to him. He doesn’t deserve them, he doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as me. “That would imply that you actuallyhavefeelings, Genovese. Let’s not kid ourselves.”

Roman’s jaw ticks over, his bright blue gaze darkening. “Why do you hate me so much?”

His question has me pausing in my tracks. Not just the words, but the sliver of vulnerability and uncertainty that comes with them. I shouldn’t let it bother me, but then again, I’ve never been reasonable when it comes to Roman Genovese. He’s the chaos to my storm, always stirring up a tempest.

Taking a deep breath, I zip up my leather jacket and walk in the opposite direction, ignoring his question altogether. The more space I put between us, the easier it becomes to breathe. I know Roman is still watching me, but he doesn’t follow like I thought he might. I don’t know why the feeling of disappointment settles in the pit of my stomach, but when I hear the thick rumble of the bike engine, I don’t turn around. I can’t help but watch him as he skirts past me, picking up speed as he weaves through the city traffic. As much as I hate the asshole, he looks damn sexy on that bike.

SIX

Iignore the irritation I feel from Alanis’ brush-off as I speed out of the city. I’ve never been one for dwelling on shit, but I swear the cold look she gave me was worse than any she’s given me before. But that’s Alanis, in all her beautifully dark perfection. She holds grudges like a sea holds shipwrecks; the storm will sink you, but it’s the ocean that will hold you captive.

Sooner or later, I’ll get through that stubborn wall of hers. I know her too well. I know what makes her tick, what makes her hot under the collar. Even when we were kids, she was so damn easy to read. Five years hasn’t changed her one bit.Okay, that’s a lie. Something broke her, and it feels bigger than just me.

I saw her in my mirrors, checking me out as I pulled away from the curb. She might be trying to convince herself that she’s done with me, but her eyes always hold the truth.We’re far from done.

Speeding past cars and away from my thoughts, I weave in and out of the traffic until I make it to New Jersey an hour later, parking outside my parents’ place. They moved houses just before I was born, but I’ve seen the place my dad had before. It was hot shit, a total bachelor’s pad spread over three floors witha basement swimming pool and sauna. Sometimes I wish he still had that place for me to inherit, but it haunted my mom to the point they had to move. Though they don’t talk about it, I know what happened. My Uncle Noah told me enough and I can’t blame my dad for what happened. My grandfather was a piece of work and he deserved what he got.

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