Sweet Home

  He sighed. “One more. You’re pushin’ your luck.”

  “Why One Day?”

  He stiffened. I ran my finger over his hand and he relaxed, pressing a kiss on the top of my spine. “That I’d leave this place, one day. Be my own person, one day. Do what I want… one day,” he said so quietly I had to strain to hear.

  Water filled my eyes at his heart-breaking answer. “Has it always been so bad for you?”

  “That was two questions, Shakespeare. I agreed to one. Now, sleep.”

  I gave up, settling into his strong arms.

  After five minutes of worried thinking, I stated, “Romeo? I don’t want everyone to know about us yet. I want to keep our relationship to ourselves.”

  He withdrew his arms from around my stomach and slowly rolled to sit on the side of the bed, dropping his head in his hands. “I get it. You’re embarrassed to be with me. Bullet, the aggressive, whorin’ QB—not boyfriend material, right? But good for a few fucks in secret…”

  I reached over, gripping his arm and nuzzling his back. “What? No! I… I’m just nervous!”

  “Nervous of what?” He turned to face me, worried.

  “Look, I’m not what you go for. I don’t look like the others—polished, perfect, twenty-twenty vision.” I caught the flash of amusement in his eyes. “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.”

  He pressed his forehead to mine, lips tight. “I want to show everyone I’m with you now. I’m not fuckin’ hidin’ 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!”

  It still didn’t change anything. “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.”

  He released a loud, pissed-off sigh and shook his head. “Fuck, Mol!”

  “Please.”

  “Fine! We’ll keep it quiet… I don’t fuckin’ like it, but I’ll do it for you, even if the thought of us being a secret makes me wanna punch someone square in the face.”

  I tsked and shook my head disapprovingly.

  “What now?” he complained.

  “You, swearing so bloody much. Do you have to use the F-word in every single sentence you say?”

  “Fuck yeah,” he answered with a smug grin, pushing me down to the bed and pressing kisses all across my face. I squealed and took his hand, stopping the assault, wrapping it across my waist, forcing him to cuddle in behind me.

  “And by the way, you won’t be hitting anyone anymore. I pacify you, remember?”

  “Sleep! Do as you’re told for once, for both our sakes,” he said rigidly, and I closed my eyes, feeling safe wrapped in his strong embrace.

  9

  I walked towards the cafeteria, slightly drained from the ethics lecture I’d just attended—actually, scratch that—I was slightly drained from the lack of sleep I’d had over the past few nights, due to Romeo’s frequent bedtime visits. I couldn’t help the smile that drifted on my lips as I thought of how tender and sweet he was with me, how he never pushed me further than I was willing to go and seemed to adore me, telling me I was different to any other girl he’d ever met.

  Crazy.

  I was almost at the door, lost in my thoughts, when I spotted Romeo outside on his phone. I smiled and moved to say hello when I caught sight of his distraught face, his hand on his forehead, and lips pursed in anger as he snapped to his caller in short, sharp grunts.

  Without noticing me, he ended the call and headed back inside, but not before he kicked over the trashcan with a loud “argh” and marched through the doors, students scrambling out of his way, sensing danger and running for self-preservation.

  Entering the cafeteria, I joined my friends, discreetly watching Rome as he pounded through the room with heavy feet, yanked out his chair, and sat with the football team, pinching the bridge of his nose, face stern with anger.

  “Mmm… meatloaf. I lurrrvvveee me some meatloaf!” Cass caught my attention as she dug into her lunch with utmost vigour and Ally and Lexi were talking about the club we were apparently hitting on Saturday night.

  “You’re in, Molls, yeah?” Ally asked as I took my sandwich from my bag.

  “Sure,” I replied. I’d never been clubbing before so, no doubt, it would be an interesting experience.

  Cass was officially “going steady” with the loveable Jimmy-Don and he was taking her dancing after the game—the three of us tagging along and making a night of it.

  Conversation moved on to appropriate outfit choices and hairstyles, and I took the opportunity to cast another covert glance at Rome, who it seemed had been staring at me for a while. He acknowledged me with a subtle tilt of the chin. I gripped my seat to stop myself from striding towards him and asking if he was okay.

  Word had spread about his official disassociation with Shelly, and even more girls than usual were making their play for the all-star QB, and my inner tether was straining with every bat of a lash or flick of an over-processed ponytail. Ally seemed to have picked up on my frustration and frowned, glancing between Rome and me while she nibbled on her carrot sticks. I decided to just avoid her scrutiny.

  Rome fended off the horde of girls with a shake of his head or an uninterested wave. It made me deliriously happy, but the questionable glances from his teammates at his reproof of the bevy of beautiful girls vying for his attention made me realise that we wouldn’t be able to keep our relationship quiet for long. I didn’t think his patience or my calm would last anyhow.

  After about fifteen minutes, Shelly entered the cafeteria with her trademark loud, annoying laugh. Catching sight of me, she stormed over and glared at me with pure hatred distorting her plastic face.

  The room fell silent.

  “God, Molly! If I have to see you walking around with these friggin’ taped-up glasses on one more day, I’m gonna scream! Don’t you own another pair?” She reached forward and before I knew what had happened, she ripped the glasses from my face and threw them behind her onto the floor, the loud clatter thunderous in the quiet hall.

  I stood to confront her, but as I started to rise, she pushed on my shoulder, causing me to smack back down. “Sit your ass down when I’m talkin’ to you!” She leaned in, a fraction from my face. “What’s wrong? Momma and Daddy got no money, sweetie? You poor, Molly?”

  Despite my best efforts, each of her words lashed me with a paralysing whip of poison, her venom hitting every intended target with perfection. I wanted to fight back, wanted to hold my own, but her words crippled me, exposed every fear I felt.

  “Enough!” An angry roar echoed throughout the room. “Back the hell off her. What are you, twenty-one or twelve?” Heavy footsteps drew closer and a hand touched my shoulder and slipped my glasses back onto my face. I tipped my head up and Rome was stood behind me, fuming at Shelly, who paled to a deathly shade of white as she registered that his hands were touching my body.

  “Get your hands off her!” She seethed.

  Rome fixed her with a taunting grin. “Get it through your head. We’re not together, never will be. Time to cut the shit.” He fixed his attention to the entire student body, arms spread wide. “Despite what shit she may be spewin’, know that I am not with her, never have been, and anything she says is utter bullshit!”

  Lexi and Cass were staring at me with their mouths dropped in shock, darting their eyes from me to Rome to Shelly and back again. Ally had her arms crossed and satisfied amusement shone from her every pore.

  Romeo bent his head and whispered in a tight voice, “You okay?”

  I nodded but kept my head dropped low in embarrassment. He grasped my hand, pulling me from my chair, the action causing our fellow students to murmur and gossip in question at his strange behaviour towards the quiet Brit.

>   “Get your purse, Shakespeare. We’re leavin’.”

  I reached for my tasselled brown bag and tried to keep up with his pace as he stormed out of the doors, the force causing them to crash against the wall, leaving a shell-shocked Shelly stood alone in rage.

  We pounded along the pavement of the quad; I was almost running to keep up. “Romeo, slow down. Where are we going?” I asked, trying to keep my breathing in check.

  We stopped at a huge new black Dodge truck and he pulled the passenger side open.

  “Get in,” he ordered aggressively.

  I jumped on the seat and he slammed the door shut. Romeo climbed into the driver’s side and switched on the engine. Hard metal music came pumping through the speakers and he spun his wheels as we shot out of the car park. I didn’t know what to say—I’d never seen anyone so livid.

  After two songs featuring an awful lot of drums and gravelly screaming, Rome began to relax his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. “Sure you’re okay?” he asked in a strained voice.

  “Yes. A little embarrassed, but I’m fine.”

  “How dare she speak to you like that? She’s such a bitch! Why the hell did I waste so much of my fuckin’ time on her?!” he spat out as he hit his fist on the dashboard.

  “You took the words right out of my mouth.”

  His lip curled into a reluctantly amused smirk.

  We weaved in and out of streets, and I laid my head against the window as the city passed by in a blur and I tried to numb my memory of Shelly’s viciously accurate words.

  We pulled to a stop outside University Mall. I lifted my head off the window and when I turned towards Romeo, he was leaning against his hand watching me. “Mol, I’m so sorry for what she said to you about your parents. I can’t imagine how that must’ve felt.” His brown eyes were pained.

  I reached across and placed my hand on his knee. “You have nothing to apologise for.”

  He covered my hand with his. “Not true. She’s rippin’ on you because she sees my interest. Saw it from our very first kiss. You’re the enemy now, Mol, and I can’t say sorry enough for that. I put you in this position and she’s gonna try and make your life hell.”

  I couldn’t help but smile at his concerned words, and I shifted closer along the seat to lay my head on his shoulder. He sighed and hooked his bare arm around my neck. I ran my appreciative gaze along his staple sleeveless shirt, this time in blue, his faded jeans, and brown, worn cowboy boots. He rocked that look like no one else could—true country boy.

  After minutes of quiet, comfortable solace in his arms, I lifted my head. “Rome, who was on the phone earlier, outside the cafeteria?”

  He stiffened and released a slow, steady breath. “You saw?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t really wanna talk about it.”

  I sighed in disappointment. “Okay. Just answer one thing. Was it your parents?”

  His arm tensed around my shoulders and the sound of the clock on the dash ticked loudly in the sudden strained silence. It was several muted seconds before he hushed out, “Yes.”

  I decided to file my questions on that away for a time when he wasn’t so pissed off. I could see that it had cost him to reveal that tidbit of information.

  I straightened, confused at my surroundings. “Why are we here?”

  Romeo opened his door, took my hand, and pulled me onto the red-hot tarmac. “We’re gettin’ you some new glasses. C’mon’.”

  I halted, pulling his arm back. “Romeo, I can’t afford them yet.”

  His hard gaze narrowed and his nostrils flared. “I’m gettin’ them. Now c’mon!” He tried to pull me in step once again.

  I stood stoic. “Romeo, I’m not a charity. I’ll get my own bloody glasses when I’ve saved up enough money. You won’t buy them for me. I won’t let you. Being poor doesn’t embarrass me—taking pity money does!”

  He jerked me into his chest and wrapped his iron arms around my back. “Molly, don’t fuckin’ push me on this. I indirectly broke the damn glasses with my shit pass. I riled up Shelly by showin’ everyone that I liked you, and I let her ego get too inflated by puttin’ up with her queen of all of Bama shit for the last three years. I’m gettin’ you new glasses and you’re gonna let me—you don’t have a fuckin’ choice. It’s not about embarrassment; it’s about protectin’ what’s mine.” His hard voice brooked no argument.

  Ordinarily I would’ve been pissed if someone ordered me around in such a way, but his alpha, take-charge, no-shit attitude had me swaying in uncensored lust right where I stood.

  Rough hands ran up my back to grip my hair and Rome tilted my head to meet his determined gaze. “You get me?”

  I relented and expelled a defeated sigh. “I get you.”

  Placing a warm kiss on my head, Romeo took my hand firmly in his and led me into the large complex.

  * * *

  “Just tilt your head back and open wide… Yes, like that… and… Are they in?” the ophthalmologist asked as I blinked at a furious rate to expel the excess solution.

  The world seemed to correct itself. “Yeah, I think that’s it. How do they look?”

  I walked to the mirror and for the first time in years, saw myself clearly without large frames blocking the view.

  “You look very pretty, honey,” she gushed sweetly.

  “My eyes…” I whispered as I registered every detailed colour in my irises, bright brown with flecks of gold, just like my dad always said. I’d never seen them look like that—so vibrant, no barriers in my way—and I reached out to my reflection, running my hand down the glass.

  Rome had told the ophthalmologist on our arrival to give me only the best and smacked his gold card on the counter, much to my ignored protest. We’d decided on contacts, and I couldn’t believe the difference they made to my appearance.

  “So you have a month’s supply of lenses and a pair of tortoiseshell Chanel glasses for when you don’t want to stick them suckers on your eyeballs. Everything’s paid for Miss Shakespeare, so you’re good to go.”

  I took the offered bag from the doctor and felt my face. I smiled and walked into the foyer. Rome sat on a cushioned seat, slouched down, watching some mundane daytime TV show. When he saw movement to the side, he looked over and turned back to the TV before whipping his head back on a double take. The floored expression on his face said it all.

  He slowly rose from his chair, his throat moving up and down as he swallowed on his approach. I fiddled with the handles on the white bag and lowered my head. His scuffed brown boots came to a stop before me, and his finger lifted my chin to face him. I glanced up and his full lips parted slightly on a gasp, and he smiled. “You look beautiful, Mol.”

  I blushed and lowered my eyes.

  His finger lifted it again. “No. Don’t hide from me. You have the most stunnin’ eyes. You’re kinda blowing me away right now.”

  “Thank you,” I said softly, heat rising to my cheeks.

  Reaching down, he took my hand. “Let’s go.”

  “Where are we going now?” I asked on a laugh as he hastily pulled me from the store, dragging me behind.

  “I want to show you somewhere… and we need to get there quick.

  10

  We drove for about thirty minutes—I had no idea where. I’d never been good with directions so I settled back and enjoyed the scenery. Fields and fields of vibrant greens and yellows whizzed by, corn and wheat fields dominating the view. Blue skies stretched for miles and white fluffy clouds roamed lazily in the late afternoon sun. It was breathtaking.

  Rome had placed his hand on my knee when we entered the truck and had yet to remove it. I felt his gaze fall on me from time to time and wondered what he was thinking. I hoped only good things.

  He clicked the blinker on and we turned onto a long driveway. “Almost there,” he announced.

  “Where’s there?”

  “Just somewhere I like to go to be alone.”

  Rome took a sharp le
ft halfway down the drive and pulled onto a bumpy gravel road. We’d travelled about two miles when a huge crystal-blue-watered creek surrounded by high trees and brightly coloured flowers came into view. It was simply beautiful.

  “My God, Rome, it’s amazing,” I stated, infatuated by the scene before me.

  Patting my leg, he pulled the truck to a stop behind a large oak tree, opened the driver’s door, and walked around to let me out. I hopped down and took his offered hand as we strolled to the sound of flowing water. At the water’s edge, he pulled me down to sit beside him on a soft grassy verge.

  Birds were singing high up in the treetops, crickets were chirping, and the air was warm and still. I don’t think I’d ever felt more at peace. Rome was watching me admire my surroundings with a satisfied expression.

  “Okay, now you seriously have to tell me where we are. It’s possibly the prettiest place on Earth.”

  He hesitated. “It’s the creek at the back of my parents’ place.”

  “You’re parents’ place?”

  He nodded curtly, tensing his jaw.

  I whipped my head around, noticing acres and acres of lush land. Turning back to Rome, I asked, “They own all of this?”

  He laid flat to the floor and ran his hands over his face, murmuring, “It’s a plantation, Mol.”

  I stilled. “Plantation? Your parents own an entire plantation?” I roved my eyes around in search of the house. It was well out of sight.

  He propped himself up on one elbow, rolling a strand of dried grass between his fingers. “Relax, they won’t know we’re even here. I come here all the time, Mol. It’s where I get away from it all.”

  I relaxed some and sighed, shaking my head.

  “What?” Rome asked with a frown.

  “This. You. A plantation. We’re from completely different worlds.” I gestured towards the rolling fields of pinky-white cotton, comparing it in my head to the narrow cobbled streets of my childhood home.