Page 52 of Forever Cursed

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chrissy

Athousand and one thoughts run through my head as I walk toward the football stadium. What does Rome want to show me? Why is it at the football field? Why are we meeting on a Sunday? Could it not wait until our meeting tomorrow at the cat café? It looks like it’s going to rain... should I have brought an umbrella?

Get back on track, Chrissy.

I haven’t heard from Rome since I agreed to meet him via text. He told me to meet him by the main entrance around four o’clock. Checking the time, I walk a bit faster when I realize I’m running a little late.

Yesterday wasn’t a total failure in the self-care department. Sure, his text left me reeling, but I still used the face mask, watched the animated version ofAnastasia, and devoured all the snacks I bought. The emotional eater in me was awakened, and cheese curls are this woman’s weakness.

I didn’t tell Gwen that Rome reached out. Nor did I text my brother back. My mind is swimming, and I can only focus on one task at a time. See what Rome wants to show me, and then take the next moment one by one.

I work on clearing my head and slowing my breathing. The air is thick and sticky, and the clouds are dark and swollen. It’s going to rain, but at least the football stadium is connected to the sports center. We can always seek shelter there until the storm calms down.

With fidgeting hands, I round the final bend. Rome appears in my line of sight, leaning against the railing on the stairs that lead into the center, and his appearance makes my heart falter. He is the definition of handsome with his mussed blond hair, sculpted jawline, broad shoulders, and lean core. He is what I expect a Greek god to look like, but that’s not why I’m drawn to him. Rome is down-to-earth and easygoing. But if I had to pick one thing that pulled me in, it would be his smile. His smile is genuine and bright. He can make the sun appear on a gloomy day. When he looks at me, it seems different. Like he saves this certain gesture just for me. It’s almost like everything he feels pours from him when he sees me. His green eyes glint, his features soften, and his smile... it’s magic.

Rome looks up when I near him, almost as if he can sense my presence with his eyes closed. I stop in my tracks as we look at one another. He’s wearing a navy tee and black basketball shorts. His hands are in his shorts’ pockets, and his biceps are flexed.

With a nervous smile, I start toward him.

“Hey,” I sound shyer than I intended.

“Willows,” he greets me with a smile that turns my knees to jelly.

I take the stairs and stop at the step below him. “So, what did you want to show me?”

Rome offers me his hand and nods toward the stadium. “Follow me.”

I glance down at his hand. My heart flutters, and my body tingles at the notion of touching him. I try to force Zack into theforefront of my mind, reminding myself not to let myself get too close.

But . . . I want more.

I want to hold Rome’s hand and not have to worry about what others may think. I want to let myself fall into my feelings. I want him to hold me in his arms and never let go. I want to be happy. I don’t want to fight this anymore.

The moment I touch Rome’s hand, a rush of euphoria washes over me. A weight I didn’t know was settled on my shoulders disappears, and a small smile makes itself at home on my lips.

He squeezes my hand and pulls me up the remaining stairs.

We remain silent as we pass through the doors and walk onto the field. Storm clouds roll across the sky, darkening the atmosphere and bringing the scent of impending rain. The field is empty, the only sound coming from us as we walk farther down the turf. When we near the players’ benches, Rome drops my hand.

“You wanted to show me the football field? I’ve been here before.”

I scan the area for any hint of what this surprise might be. Nothing is here. What could he possibly want to show me?

“You have, but I didn’t tell you why I love it here so much.”

Tilting my head, I step toward him as he grabs a ball.

“Since my mom left, nowhere felt like home. But when I’m here. . . I feel like I belong.” He tosses the football in the air and catches it. “Dad used to play catch with me all the time. We would spend hours tossing the ball back and forth.” With a few more steps back, he smiles wide. “Think fast!”

I manage to catch the football before it collides with my face. “Give a girl some proper warning!”

I shake off my hand from the force of the throw. With my dainty fingers, I’m surprised I didn’t break anything from that throw.

“Sorry,” he chuckles before walking farther down the field.

“Where are you going?!” I call after him.

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