Rome's Chance (Reapers MC #6.6)(17)

“Good. You’ll want to take more in the morning,” he said. “Now it’s shower time—the bathroom is in here.”

I followed him though the dining area and into his bedroom, noting that the covers on his queen sized bed were made up neatly. The whole room was fairly tidy, actually.

Wonder if he’s always this clean, or if he was hoping to get lucky tonight and wanted to impress me?

Rome paused to open one of the dresser drawers and took out some clothing, then handed me the small pile. The bathroom was nice. Nothing fancy about the finishes, but the room was good sized and there was a jetted tub big enough for two. If things had gone differently, I might’ve been settling in for a bath right now instead of a shower.

“Towels are under here,” he said, opening one of the cabinets below the sink, pulling out a couple. “Grab more if you need them. Go ahead and throw your clothes out the door when you’re ready, and I’ll get them started.”

“It’ll take half the night,” I protested. “I get why you wanted me to clean up, but I really do need to get home. I’m exhausted.”

“You can sleep here.”

I stared at Rome, wondering if I’d heard him right.

“Why would I sleep here?”

“Because you’re tired,” he replied, his tone matter of fact and casual. Too casual.

“What’s your game?” I asked bluntly, too tired to guess.

Rome raised a brow, then gave me that panty-melting little smile of his. “No games, Randi. I’m tired. You’re tired. Just because this started out as a date doesn’t mean it has to end as one, and there’s plenty of room for both of us. You can have the bed and I’ll take the couch. Tomorrow morning, you’ll have clean clothes. The swelling will have started to go down, and then you can explain to your family without setting them off in the middle of the night. Unless you really think you can sneak in without your sister waking up and asking what happened?”

I tried to think of a reason to say no, but my exhausted brain came up blank. And I absolutely knew Lexi would be lying in wait for me. She’d start screeching, and then my mom would wake up and that would be it for the night.

The only thing worse than going to a class reunion with a giant black eye would be going to a reunion with a giant black eye after a night of arguing with my family.

“Okay,” I said, reluctantly agreeing with him. “But I’m taking the couch. Not the bed. You’re on your own in here.”

He raised a brow.

“My mom would kick my ass if I let you sleep on the couch,” he told me.

I crossed my arms, shaking my head. “I’m smaller than you. The couch will be fine, and then I won’t have to feel guilty about taking your bed.”

Rome held my gaze for a minute, and I thought he might push the point. Then he shrugged and said, “Okay. I’ll go grab some blankets and a pillow for the couch.”

I felt that same sense of disappointment I’d had at the bar, when he’d given up on a second date. God, was I turning into one of those crazy girls who wouldn’t tell a guy what she really wanted, and then got angry because he couldn’t read her mind?

Or maybe it was just a weird night. I needed a shower and some sleep. There’d be time in the morning to decide if I’d lost my mind.

“Thanks,” I said, then shut the bathroom door.




I felt a thousand times better after the shower, although I hadn’t put my clothes out for Rome to wash. They were dirty, of course, and they’d be super uncomfortable to sleep in… but handing them over seemed wrong, somehow.

I poked through the clean pile, trying to make up my mind. Rome had given me a pair of basketball shorts (complete with helpful drawstring) and a faded gray T-shirt that was super soft from being washed a thousand times. There was a firefighters’ union logo—IAFF Local 5835—across the front. I bet it hugged those sexy muscles of his nice and tight.

On me it would be more like a nightgown.

A clean, comfortable nightgown. Running my fingers across the soft cotton, I decided that while wearing his clothes might be weird, torturing myself by wearing uncomfortable, dirty stuff wasn’t going to make my life any easier.

I’d feel way better in the morning putting on something clean.

Reaching for my panties, I saw the push-up bra I’d borrowed from Lexi sitting on the counter. No way was I handing that over. I should probably just wear it under the T-shirt, I decided. That way I wouldn’t nip out. But it made my boobs look fantastic for a reason—the thing had serious structural support.

The kind of structural support only a masochist would consider wearing to bed.

Not only that, if I threw it in with the rest of my clothes, there was a very good chance the washing machine would tear it to shreds.

Then Lexi would never be able to wear it again.

Making a snap decision, I decided to sleep in bra-free comfort for the sake of my sister. It only took a minute to pull on the shirt and shorts. I stepped out of the bathroom to find Rome lounging on his bed, wearing only sweat pants. His hands were tucked back behind his head, and he’d turned on the TV mounted on the wall.

Labyrinth was playing.

That would be Labyrinth, the 1980s movie, starring David Bowie (as the goblin king), David Bowie’s junk (which was so prominent that it deserved separate billing), and a whole bunch of singing puppets.