Page 32 of Forever Fighting
“What happened?” Lydia pressed.
I shrug. “What always happens? He cheated, I caught him, case closed.”
“But you have Roman,” she said as if the fact that I had been with anyone else didn’t make sense.
“Yes,” a waitress, whose name I couldn’t remember, agreed emphatically. “You look so good together.”
“He’s not my type since he’s not a woman, but he’s every other woman’s type,” another threw out.
Roman made a displeased noise. He hated being the center of attention.
I scrunched my nose teasingly. “But he’s so old.”
He poked me in the side, his eyes light. “Watch it, kid. I’m only six years older than you.”
“But when we were kids, you seemed so much older.”
His lips thinned. “And you seemed so much younger. Until suddenly you didn’t.”
I tilted my head at him, but Capshaw continued with, “I agree with Leaf. You two should get married. You’re in Vegas. It’d be such a fun story.”
Roman finished off the rest of his drink and refilled it before I snatched the bottle from him and did the same.
“Yes,” Leaf continued. “Roman has talked about you enough. I think it’s time he settles down. Then maybe he won’t be so grumpy all the time.”
Everyone laughed, but Roman wasn’t laughing.
“Come on,” someone else said. “We dare you.”
I shift slightly under the blanket. I know there were more shots. I remember having at least one more. That’s it, though. I couldn’t tell you how I got back to the hotel. I don’t remember going to bed. I don’t remember getting undressed and into the robe. I don’t remember—oh shit. Oh no. No, no, no. Please tell me no.
Because I do remember something else, and my brain frantically replays the memory.
“You’re daring us?” I cackled. “How can you dare people to get married?”
They all shrugged. “I have a friend who did that with her bestie on a dare. They’ve been married five years now.”
I leaned back in my seat and nearly fell over because I wasn’t as close to the back of the booth as I thought. Oops. No one seemed to care or notice. They were all over daring us to get married.
“That wouldn’t be us, though,” I protested.
“How do you know until you try?” Lydia countered. “Come on. It’s a fun dare.”
“You can’t dare me,” I warned. “I never turn down a dare.”
Roman leaned into my ear, clearly done with this. “Dance with me?”
I nodded and allowed him to take me back to the dance floor, ending the conversation. Except the dare wouldn’t die. It tickled the back of my mind until it grew into a full-blown itch. The more I thought about it, the more I liked it.
“Maybe we should get married,” I said to Roman as we danced, my arms around his neck and his face low and close to mine. I could feel his breath. Smell his cologne. It was warm and intimate, especially as I watched the different colors dance in his eyes.
A noise caught in his throat, half heavy breath, half incredulous laugh. “Yeah? You think?” he teased, holding and leading me to a slower ballad.
“I’m serious. Maybe we should.” It seemed like such a brilliant idea. And fun. Getting married to Roman sounded so fun. So unlikemarrying Adam, which sounded horrible. Why did I ever say yes when he proposed? “Adam sucks. I’m sooo glad I didn’t marry him. He wasn’t right for me. How could he have been? My vagina is amazing. I’m incredible in bed. How could he cheat?!” I yelled, only to wince because that sounded extra loud in my ears.
Roman ran a hand up my spine that shot tingles the other way. “He was a fool.”
“But you’re not. You’re the best person I know. You’ve always been right.” I tilted my head, studying him from beneath my lashes. “If you know what I mean. You’d be a good husband. I should marry you. It’d be the best story ever. One we could tell our grandkids.”
