Rome's Chance (Reapers MC #6.6)(25)

That’d set off a holy war, for sure.

Maybe I’d get lucky and that job would come through.

My phone buzzed as a text came in, and I reached for it.



Unknown: You left something at my apartment. I’ll swing by and drop it off in ten



Rome. Somehow he’d gotten my number. I frowned, wondering what he was talking about. It wasn’t like I’d packed an overnight bag… My purse was on the kitchen counter.

“What’s up?” Lexi asked.

“It’s Rome. He said I left something at his house.”

“Did you?”

“I don’t think so…”

“He’s just trying to get into your pants. Guys are needy like that.”

I wasn’t so sure. Rome hadn’t seemed all that worried when I’d blown him off last night. That morning wood of his hadn’t been fake, but morning wood wasn’t necessarily personal. I reached up and touched my swollen eyelid. It still hurt like hell, although compared to the Mom situation, it was the least of my worries.

Funny how fast your perspective could change.



Me: You can throw it away

Rome: Do you even know what it is?

Randi: I have my phone and purse. Nothing else is important

Rome: This is an expensive bra. Replacing it won’t be cheap.



I’d stuffed it in my purse to bring home, hadn’t I? It only took a second to reach the counter and check. Nope. No bra. I’d been in such a hurry to get out that I must’ve left it with the stuff he’d loaned me… Stupid stupid stupid!

Then I realized that it didn’t matter—the thing was ruined, anyway. I’d planned to show it to Lexi as proof, but we’d been kind of busy. Rome was a distraction I couldn’t afford right now.



Randi: I don’t even like the bra. And I’m busy. Not at home

Me: Thats okay. Ill give it to whoever is there. Or I can hang it on the door. 10 minutes



I stared down at the phone, realizing I was well and truly cornered.

“Did you get rid of him?” Lexi asked.

I shook my head, wondering if my day could possibly get any weirder. Probably best not to tempt fate.

“He’s coming over,” I said shortly, then looked down across the table at all the pot, wondering if we should try to hide it. It was legal in Washington state, but it still felt kind of strange to see it out in the open.

“Randi!” I heard Mom calling faintly.

“I’ll be right back,” I told Lexi. “Can you clean this up for now?”

She nodded, and I went back to the bedroom. Mom was sitting up in the bed. She should’ve looked pitiful—I mean, she’d just had an asthma attack. But she’d combed her hair and put on some clean clothing, obviously making an effort. For an instant I caught a hint of the mom I’d known growing up. Gorgeous, stubborn, wild, and fun. Irresponsible as hell, but always fun.

“You didn’t just take my pot,” she said. “You took my prednisone, too. I was going to come out and get it, but I need to rest a little first, I think. You’re right about Lexi and Kayden, Randi. Something needs to change.”

“So what does that mean?” I asked slowly.

“No more smoking,” she told me, and I could tell she was sincere. I expected to feel relief, but there was just emptiness. She always meant it. She waited for a response, probably thinking I’d be grateful or excited. I managed to smile, hoping it didn’t look too fake.

Not smoking pot wouldn’t be enough to fix this situation. God, I hoped I got that job. I didn’t want to go to war over this, but even if she stopped smoking, the basic facts wouldn’t change.

Someone needed to take care of the kids and for whatever reason, she just didn’t have the right wiring for it.

“I’ll get the prednisone for you.”




Ten minutes went by fast. Mom’s pills were buried in the pile of crap on the table, and it took a while to find them. We threw the rest of her stuff into a garbage bag, and then I climbed up onto the kitchen counter and shoved it into the highest cabinet. I’d just gotten down when someone knocked at the door.

Rome.

I stood with my hand on the doorknob, trying to decide whether to go outside or let him in. Lexi rolled her eyes, the little shit. I opened the door a few inches. Rome stood outside, his dark hair all rough and messy from the helmet. A black shirt barely contained his gorgeous chest and I could smell his shampoo. Nothing special, but somehow manly.

The kind of shampoo Jack London would’ve used.

Last night, I’d had a really good reason not to see him again. I tried to remember what it was, but that shampoo kept distracting me. Oh yeah… I wasn’t in the mood to hook up, and he wasn’t relationship material. Of course, I’d ended up sleeping with him anyway. I’d just skipped the fun part.

And what was my reward for that?

I’d come home and gotten yelled at for being a slut by a woman who couldn’t see that smoking and asthma were inherently incompatible. Oh, and my whole life in Missoula was about to end because of her, too.

Adulting was bullshit.

I felt the sudden urge to jump on the back of Rome’s bike, maybe order him to ride for the hills. We’d have wild monkey sex and I’d forget all about my responsibilities.