Rome's Chance (Reapers MC #6.6)(16)
“No,” I said, catching and holding his gaze, willing him to listen. “There’s no you and me, Rome. I’m not in the mood for a hookup any more. My face feels too much like raw meat. And it wasn’t like we were going to start a relationship or something. I’m headed back to Missoula on Sunday. We don’t have anything in common, anyway.”
I stopped talking, putting the ice back on my eye. Rome’s jaw tightened, and I realized that I’d essentially just told him he was only good for sex. Sex and bacon burgers. Shit. I wasn’t trying to be a bitch—it’d just come out that way. Maybe that was for the best, though. I didn’t seem to have any self-control when it came to this man.
“Okay.”
He said it a little too easily, which kind of hurt. I don’t know why. A token protest would’ve been nice. Of course, after that little speech, Rome probably couldn’t wait to get rid of me. Fair enough.
“I need to find my colors and then we’ll head back to Hallies Falls,” he said. “But I’m not taking you home.”
“Why not?” I asked, confused.
“Because you need to get cleaned up. If your sister sees you like this, she’s gonna key my bike or something. We’ll stop by my place and you can take a shower. I’ll throw your clothes in the laundry.”
“That’ll take hours,” I protested. “I’m fine to go home.”
“Go look at yourself in the bathroom mirror,” Rome said, cocking his head. “If you still think going home is a good idea, then I’ll take you home.”
Chapter Five
The ride back to Rome’s place was a lot less fun and exciting than the one we’d taken at the start of our date. I still didn’t like the idea of stopping off for a shower. It’d been easy to dismiss our chemistry while I’d been outside nursing my eye. But the ice had actually helped a lot, and now that I was riding behind him, I kept thinking about our crazy makeout session against the wall before the fight.
This was pointless—we were a dead end. The sooner I ripped him out of my life like a used Band-Aid, the safer I’d be. You know, before I changed my mind and embarrassed myself by trying to jump him. Unfortunately, he’d been right about one thing.
I looked like shit.
My eye was like disgusting, expired hamburger, and the swelling was so nasty that I’d given up any hope that I’d be able to cover it with makeup. No wonder he hadn’t exactly put up a fight when I’d blown him off. Leaning into his back, I gave serious thought to skipping the party tomorrow night.
On the one hand, it was my ten-year reunion, and after running into Peaches, I’d realized how much I was looking forward to seeing all the people I’d grown up with. On the other, I had a hamburger face. I’d already accepted the fact that I wasn’t a doctor or a movie star. So what if I hadn’t written any multi-platinum international hits? I didn’t need to impress anyone with my amazingness—that’d never been me.
But seriously. I looked like shit. It was depressing.
I should wait until morning to make the decision, I decided. Right now I was tired, confused, full of pain, and slightly horny in an unhealthy kind of way. Not the best time to make decisions.
It wasn’t until we reached Hallies Falls that I remembered I had no idea where he lived. A smart girl might’ve asked about that ahead of time, I mused. Of course, a smart girl wouldn’t have gone out on a date to the Starkwood Saloon, let alone publicly dry hump a biker up against the wall. Tonight hadn’t been my finest hour, yet somehow I’d still gotten my seven minutes in Heaven.
So wrong on so many levels.
It turned out that Rome’s place wasn’t too far from my mom’s. Once upon a time, this had been one of the most historic and charming neighborhoods in town, but the fires hadn’t been kind to Hallies Falls. Half the city had burned that horrible, endless week that we had to evacuate.
Now this area was all new construction—mostly apartments and condos. Rome’s was one of the nicer ones. He had a second-story unit overlooking the park, and it wasn’t just a hole in the wall. There was a spacious entry way and a good-sized living room separated from a full-sized kitchen with a breakfast bar. The ceiling overhead formed sort of a half vault, slanting down to what looked like patio doors off a separate dining area. The living room itself had large picture windows and a small, cozy-looking gas fireplace.
“You want something to drink?” Rome asked as I looked around, curious about his natural habitat. The kitchen cabinets formed a shelf, and he’d lined the top with old-fashioned firefighting things. A flame-scarred helmet. One of those axes with a pick on the end. Other things I didn’t know the names for, but they all had the worn look of true antiques.
“No, I’m fine,” I said, exhaustion abruptly overwhelming everything else. Adrenaline had been carrying me through the evening, but it was fading fast. “I should get into the shower or I’m gonna fall asleep. But you don’t need to worry about my clothes. It’s not like I have anything to change into.”
“You can borrow a shirt and shorts from me,” he said. “And you might not be thirsty, but you need some ibuprofen for that eye, so drink up.”
He handed me a glass of water and a couple of pills, supervising as I obediently swallowed them.