Page 11 of Forever Cursed

Well, he isn’t wrong . . .

“Did you need Ash? He and Gwen are still passed out, along with the rest of the neighborhood.”

“No,” he replies.

I can’t help but tilt my head. Why is he here at seven a.m. on a Sunday if he doesn’t want Ash?

“Did you need Zack?” I ask, and he shakes his head in response. “Gwen, Max?”

“Nope.” He rocks back and forth on his feet while shoving his hands in his dark blue jeans pockets. If he doesn’t want them, does that mean...

“Me?”

“No.”

What the fuck?

“I’m confused.” I sigh. “If you don’t want anyone in this house, why are you here?” His eyes flick over to the kitchen, and I get the hint. “You’re hungry.”

“Bingo, Sherlock.” Rome strolls into the kitchen.

When he’s out of sight, I jog up the stairs as quietly as possible. When I pop into the bathroom, I cringe when I catch my reflection. My hair is indeed going in different directions, and my eyes have dark bags under them. I work a comb through my curls to try and tame them, even though I won’t be able to getthem perfect until I shower. They need to be less, well, all over the place.

Once I manage my hair, I splash cold water on my face and jump up and down to wake myself up. Looking into my blue eyes, I repeat the affirmations Mom cemented in my brain from middle school.

“You are strong, kind, and beautiful. I love my hair, my eyes, and my nose. You are a badass.” I might’ve added that last bit myself, but Mom would approve.

Stepping out of the bathroom, I remember I’m not wearing a bra. Gritting my teeth, I look around for something,anything,to cover my breasts that I’m sure anyone can see through my white shirt. My eyes land on Ash’s door, and my lips turn upward.

I sneak toward his door and open it, praying those two love birds are decent. The last thing I need to see is my best friend and her boyfriend going at it. They’re both hot, but I’m not into that kind of stuff.

With a quiet sigh, I peer around the room and thank the universe that Ash isn’t as tidy as Max is. I grab a stray crewneck hoodie and give it a quick sniff test before putting it on. I can’t help but smile at the two of them as they sleep peacefully.

After closing the door with a muffled click, I take the steps back downstairs and walk into the kitchen. I snicker when I spot Rome head first in the refrigerator.

“Don’t touch that fancy yogurt. Max swore he’ll end your football career if you do that again,” I warn him.

Rome turns around, and I snort at the sight of the opened yogurt and spoon in his mouth.

“Too late,” he says as he licks the spoon clean.

“Oh, Rome,” I laugh.

“Don’t tell him?” he asks with a mischievous smile.

I pretend to zip my lips with my fingers.

“That’s my girl.” He clicks his tongue and swings back around to face the fridge.

My girl.

Did he just call me that? Do I need to get my ears checked out? There’s no way Rome Carter just called mehis girl.Excuse me while I go faint.

Rome puts the yogurt back, closes the refrigerator door, and then looks through the cabinets. Sucking on the spoon that’s in his mouth, he reaches for the chocolate chip cookies. My eyes fall right on his toned ass before they linger over the skin that is exposed under his shirt. His forearm muscles bulge under the sleeves of his simple forest-green T-shirt. His hips sway back and forth as he starts to snack mindlessly on cookies.

A goofy grin spreads across my lips as naughty thoughts circulate in my brain.

What would his skin feel like against mine? How would he feel between my legs? I bet Rome is the type of guy who ensures you finish first. And fuck, do I need that right now. Rome has been haunting my dreams. I find myself daydreaming about him, losing myself in these lustful thoughts. Maybe I’ll get over him if I can get him into bed...

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