Page 29 of Sapphire Storm

“Dessert?”

“I’m stuffed, thanks.”

But Roman didn’t get up and didn’t seem to be in a rush toleave.

“Maybe I shouldn’t give a shit,” he said after a while.

“About what?” Ethan asked.

“My life.”

“All right, let’s back up a step there, mister.”

Roman shook his head. “No, no. I’m not thinking about…hurtingmyself. That’s not it. I mean this fabulous Laguna Beach life I’ve been livingin the Castle by the Sea. Maybe itshouldfall apart. Maybe it’s crap.And the social media stuff? It’s so stupid most of the time. If I lip-synch toone more song on TikTok, my lips are going to fall off. And then I spend hourstwisting myself into a damn pretzel to get one shot that looks hot and natural.Then I’ve got to stand there and tap out some douchey caption that makes mesound like a half-naked Buddhist or something.” He mimed air quotes and made aclownish expression. “Beach vibes giving me inner peace. Bless.” Heheld up a peace sign and tilted his head to one side like his brains weredraining out one ear.

Ethan couldn’t contain his laughter.

“I mean, what are beach vibes anyway?” Roman added. “Whatarevibes? Are they clouds or waves or some kind of gas? They soundlike they might be dangerous if you don’t have a helmet or a mask on or something.”

Ethan barked with laughter now, and Roman’s bright and genuinesmile told him he was enjoying the response.

When their eyes met, Ethan felt a catch in his throat, aflutter in his chest he usually associated with too much caffeine.

Roman Walker was a young person who wasn’t completely lostin the delusions of youth, and that made him dangerously attractive. The suddensurge of desire within Ethan felt more all-consuming than any flare of lusthe’d experienced in the penthouse suite earlier that night, and he hoped Romancouldn’t see evidence of it.

“I’m a mess,” Roman finally said. “I’m worse than that. I’ma friggin’ cliché. Pretty on the outside but fucked up on the inside. My moodsare all over the place. I mean, sometimes I get so angry over nothing—”

“Roman.”

“—and I grit my teeth so hard I’m afraid they’re going tocrack and—”

“Roman.” He said the guy’s name firmer. Enough to silencehim this time.

“What?” Roman asked softly, with a little tremor of fear inhis voice.

“Your mother died,” Ethan said softly. The guy’s jawquivered. “Your mother died and it’s hard and it hurts.” Roman blinked and swallowed.“And it sounds like you fell in with the Peytons right around then, and all ofthe gifts and the luxury and the fame might have covered up some of thesefeelings. But it doesn’t sound like you’ve beenhavingthose feelings,and you’re going to need to be able to fall apart now and then somewhere that’ssafe.”

“Yeah, where’s that?” The tremor in his voice was stronger.

“Here.”

Roman tried to smile, but it ended up forcing a tear downhis right cheek. “You inviting me to move in?”

“I’m inviting you over for dinner. On a regular basis. Whereyou can unwind and be yourself.”

“Dinner and falling apart. Sounds hot.”

“I only serve hot meals. That’s a promise.”

Roman looked to the table, nodding.

And then it hit him. Ethan had felt it himself over the years,the anvil strike of grief.

The tears that followed were stronger than the ones that hadstruck Roman in the penthouse suite earlier that night, but Ethan was prettysure their source was the same—grief for a mother who’d found her true self inthe desert and done everything she could for her only boy, a mother whose heartsang with opera even as she kept herself buttoned up and task oriented. He’dheard somewhere it was better not to throw your arms around someone as theysobbed. That it would block the venting of emotions that needed to be set free.But the advice seemed suited for some support group or therapeutic setting, nothis kitchen at almost two in the morning.

Slowly, Ethan got to his feet.

“She was mad at me,” Roman managed between wrenching sobs.“The child support payments, she’d saved them all up… For-for college, and thenI dr-dropped out after two years and… She was mad at me.”

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