Page 25 of Roman and the Hopeless Romantic
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After taking a scaldinghot shower and changing, Roman went downstairs to find every single light in the house on and Cassie sitting in the living room with her e-reader. It had become such a familiar scene, he smiled—even after their contentious conversation.
She might want him to leave her alone, but he wasn’t giving up on her.
He sat on the couch near her feet, jostling her. She didn’t look up.
“Whatcha reading?” He leaned close to get a look at the screen.
She held it closer to her chest.
“Our Cass, the romantic.” He grinned. “Wouldn’t guess that by looking at you, but I should have known. You always tried to steal your mom’s books when we were younger.” He laughed as a memory came back to him. They were ten or eleven when they took what her mom called a “bodice ripper” and read it together, giggling through the sexy parts.
“Do you remember when your mom sat you, me, and Jesse down and asked if we had any questions after that book we took from her? I don’t think I’ve ever been so embarrassed in my life.”
Cassie’s lips twitched but didn’t form into a smile.
“Aw, Cass. That was a good story. I know you want to smile.”
She shook her head.
He poked her knee. “I secretly think your mom liked our antics. Remember when we broke into old Mrs. Green’s lanai and went swimming in her pool when she was up north for the summer? We swam every day for a month. But Jesse in all his brilliance left a pool noodle there with his name on it.”
He leaned against her knees and rested his head on the back of the couch. “Your mom’s response was the best.”
A tiny laugh escaped Cassie. “She said if Mrs. Green wanted a private pool, she should consider a lock a ten-year-old couldn’t pick.”
Roman spent most of his life in awe of Mrs. Carrigan, wishing she was his mom. And Cassie had been so like her in all the best ways, ways that changed after her mom’s death.
Cassie peeked at him over the top of her e-reader as if trying to figure him out. But what was there to figure out? She knew him better than anyone other than Jesse.
“I have a theory.” He met her gaze. “I know your silence isn’t completely by choice, but I think you enjoy ignoring me because you think I can’t take it.”
She lifted a brow.
He leaned closer. “Well, you know what? You’re right. I can’t take it.” His eyes latched onto hers. “Our friendship was so easy, so right, and then one day it was just gone. The girl who’d been by my side suddenly refused to even look at me.” One side of his mouth tipped up. “But you’re looking at me now.”
“Progress,” she whispered.
He nodded. “All I ask for is progress. I want my friend back.”
“Do you…” She sucked in a breath. The rest of the words never came because the lights flickered before going dark, throwing the house into shadow.
“Rome,” Cassie whispered, her voice trembling.
He reached out to grip her hand. “I’m here.” Getting to his feet, he pulled her up, never losing contact between them. Inching his way around the furniture, he found the switch on the wall, but it didn’t help. “No power.”
Her hand slid up his wrist to his arm, her grip tightening. “Flashlights and candles are in the kitchen.”
Together, they stumbled around furniture, taking advantage of the lightning occasionally illuminating their path.
“Careful.” He led her across the tile, water seeping into his socks. “It’s wet in here.”
She let go of him long enough to dig through a cupboard for a single flashlight and two candles.
“That it?” Roman asked. It wouldn’t even light one room.
She opened a drawer and produced a booklet of matches with a shrug. It would have to be good enough.
As they made their way back to the living room, gripping furniture on their way, Cassie slid her hand into his. “Don’t let go,” she whispered.
He squeezed her hand. His favorite girl was talking to him again—even if it was still guarded—there was no way he’d let go of her now.
