Page 64 of Dance of Defiance

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I ignore him, turning my attention back to Roman.

Me

What are you doing here.

His expression, lit by the glow of his phone, sours as his eyes land on Gerard.

Roman

Who is that.

A smirk plays across my face.

Me

Jealous?

Roman

just a fucking question

Me

Maybe he’s the one keeping me from giving a shit about your half-assed apology.

I watch the motherfucker’s face twist, thinking it through, before he starts typing again.

Roman

I really am sorry. That’s not me.

Me

From what I've seen of you at the fight clubs, that is *exactly* you.

Roman

I fight in FIGHTS. I don’t just hit people. Not if it’s not work-related.

Work-related.Jesus.

This man breaks bones, bloodies faces, and generally fucks people up as part of his job.

…I find thatdisturbinglyhot.

Me

Fine, whatever. I’m over it.

Roman

Please.

Hereallyneeds to stop say that.

Roman

please let me make it up to you

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