Page 85 of Leah

“She mightnotbe! Clearly you haven’t noticed, but Carter’s kind of a sex symbol to the female fucking race, and there are some unhinged people in that crowd, Mel—”

“Alright!” I shouted, raising my hand out to them. Here I thought Carter and I were bad—we had nothing on Rome and Mel. “Calm your tits, guys! If you want me to have a goddamn bodyguard until this shit dies down, then fine. I’ll do it, okay? I’m not arguing.”

“Thank you,” Rome said, looking a bit smug as he stared at Melanie.

She looked like she wanted to tear his head off. “Well, is it okay if I went anywhere? I have a lunch date with a special someone and I don’t want to miss out. I’m a third party in this situation, so I shouldn’t be some kind of target, right?”

I nearly rolled my eyes right there and then. The audacity in this girl! She was having lunch with hersister, and judging by the way Rome’s eyes narrowed, he was completely unaware.

“You should be fine,” he said stiffly.

“Great. This was an excellent reunion guys, but I gotta get ready.” She disappeared into her room without even looking back at Rome. She did it in such a cold way, I was impressed by her ability to hide her pain.

Rome stared in the direction she left, his shoulders tensing as the seconds passed. She’d gotten inside his head, and he was practically twitching.

Here these guys were, larger than life, famous and oozing with riches, and Melanie didn’t give a single shit.

She wanted to be chased, and Rome, in all his silent fury, didn’t last five seconds.

“Just give me a minute,” he muttered to us, hurrying after her.

Silence swiftly settled in, and I suddenly wished the bickering idiots were back at it again because this—the heaviness, the tension—was hard.

I watched Carter wearily, waiting for him to speak. He glimpsed at me, his emotions concealed, before moving into the kitchen to rest his elbows on the counter.

Exhaling, he ran both hands through his hair. Then he looked up at me; that face turning more solemn as the seconds passed.

“Carter,” I said softly, on a shrug. “I don’t—I don’t want us to hate each other.”

“I don’t hate you,” he then said, quietly.

I didn’t know what to say to fill the space.

How could I fix this?

Could I regain my friend and not my lover?

Was that still not possible?

I couldn’t turn away from his eyes, either. He stared right into me; into the deepest, darkest corners of me. I wondered if he saw the panic, the sadness, and the walls I’d fortified, warding anyone from my heart.

“So you’re sure, then?” he asked in a whisper. “I just… I need to know you didn’t say what you did because of the situation we were in.”

Was I sure?

I hesitated, clearing the frog from my throat because—

I was still hurting.

“I’m sure,” I answered in a tiny voice.

He let out a deep breath. “You’re sure.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shook his head at the apology. “Don’t be. I’m just… I’m still trying to figure out what went wrong.”

“It’s nothing you did.”

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