Sweet Rome (Sweet Home, #1.5)(40)

Squeezing her tightly, I said, “One more. You’re pushing your luck.”

“Why One Day?”

Memories of getting that tattoo on my hip played through my mind, and finally taking a risk, I told her what I’d never told anyone else. “That I’d leave this place, one day. Be my own person, one day. Do what I want… one day.”

Molly’s hand tightened in mine. “Has it always been so bad for you?”

I couldn’t, I just couldn’t speak about that topic, some weird force within me stealing my voice, so I replied, “That was two questions, Shakespeare. I agreed to one. Now sleep.”

“Romeo? I don’t want everyone to know about us yet. I want to keep our relationship to ourselves,” Molly suddenly blurted when I was halfway to sleep.

Anger zapped through me at an alarming rate, snapping me awake, and I had to move, sitting on the side of the bed. “I get it. You’re embarrassed to be with me. Bullet, the aggressive, whoring QB—not boyfriend material, right? But good for a few f*cks in secret…” I hated the way I was speaking—harsh, malicious—but her saying that made me feel ashamed. She didn’t think I was worthy of being with her in public.

Molly’s warm breath spread on my back and her arms wrapped around my waist. “What? No! I… I’m just nervous!” she said, panicked.

Feeling like a weight had been lifted, I turned, taking her hands, and asked, “Nervous of what?”

She took her hand back and smoothed down her thick hair and the hem of her nightgown. “Look, I’m not what you go for. I don’t look like the others—polished, perfect, twenty-twenty vision. Please can we just wait a bit longer before the whole campus finds out? For my sake? It’s going to take some adjustment on my part to be with you. I just need some time.”

Awesome, I thought. The only girl I want to have on my arm for all the world to see, and she wants to hide away in secret.

Karma’s a bitch.

Pressing my head to hers, I said, “I want to show everyone I’m with you now. I’m not f*cking hiding us, and I don’t give a shit what people think. As for my past, that’s not what I want with you. I want more. Don’t you get that by now? Christ!”

“Please. Just for a while. You’re Romeo Prince. Your… reputation scares me a little. Let’s just be us in private for a while, see how it goes without anyone else interfering.”

“Fuck, Mol!” I shouted a bit too loud. I was pissed. Yeah, my reputation was as a bit of a scary f*cker, but I was different with her, and I’d happily knock out anyone who tried to say otherwise. I would protect her.

“Please,” she begged again, and hell, I couldn’t resist those pleading eyes. No way was I giving her up. If we had to stay secret for now, I’d just have to friggin’ adjust.

Meeting Molly’s apprehensive gaze, I snapped out, “Fine! We’ll keep it quiet… I don’t f*ckin’ like it, but I’ll do it for you, even if the thought of us being a secret makes me want to punch someone square in the face.”

A f*cking secret.

Perfect.

Hell, this was not going to be fun…





13





My cell vibrated in my pocket, and fishing it out, my mood instantly soured. “Daddy, nice of you to call again,” I said sarcastically as I made my way through the college to the cafeteria for lunch, my muscles still aching from my weight session.

“It’s a good day, Rome! Martin Blair has approved the prenup. When you marry Shelly, Martin will finally retire and gift you thirty percent of his fifty percent share as a wedding present. He’s been wanting to leave for a while now, and you taking over the day-to-day running of the business beside me is exactly what we’ve wanted! Full Prince control.”

I’d never heard my daddy sound so friggin’ happy—me, though, I was just seething.

“What you’ve wanted,” I immediately stressed.

“What?” he snapped, his moment of elation soon forgotten.

Bracing for the aftermath, I said, “What you’ve wanted. I’ve told you once and I won’t keep repeating it: I’m. Not. Marrying. Shel!”

Silence reigned strong. Then, surprising me, he asked calmly, “What can I do to change your mind? What do you want? Whatever will make this happen, I’ll do for you, get for you.”

That shocked me to the point that I couldn’t move. Was the great Joseph Prince actually trying to negotiate?

Nipping the bridge of my nose, I replied, “Nothing. Nothing will change my mind. I’m sorry, Daddy, I know you think I’m failing in my duty as your son. But it’s my life and I won’t marry someone for the sake of your already stupidly rich business… I won’t marry just so you can get more money… I’m not cut out for that life. Football is what I’ll be doing in the future.”

A deep cough sounded on the other side of the line and he said, “You’re not going to change your mind about this? Am I getting this right?”

Blowing out a fortifying breath, I answered, “No. I’m not going to change my mind.”

“Then have it your way.”

I froze, looking, unseeing, through the cafeteria windows. “What the hell does that mean?”