Promiscuous (6 page)

I stood there, my eyes wide, not sure how to respond. Guys usually weren’t this hard to figure out. I slowly walked toward him and sat down with enough distance between us that I felt I could relax. Slowly, the embarrassment was giving way to the need for me to know what he found so interesting about me.

I thought back to the club. My memory was foggy, but what I could remember was him sitting there and
just
watching. No participation, no self-action. Nothing, just his eyes on mine as another chick fingered me.

“Okay. So you want to fuck me. But you’re not
here
to fuck me,” I said, running a hand through my long hair. God, I was
so
embarrassed.

He chuckled, his eyes narrowing in on me as he processed whatever it was he found so fucking amusing. His enjoyment of this was irritating the hell out of me.

“Roman, you seem like a decent guy, but I don’t have time for games, okay? Tell me what you want, or get out of my house,” I said tersely.

He raised his eyebrows, a wide grin invading his mouth, which only served to annoy me even more. “Do you always get what you want, Beth?”

“No,” I answered truthfully. If that were the case, I wouldn’t be sitting here with
him
right now. I’d be sitting here with Coop.

He didn’t look convinced. “You strike me as the type of girl who goes after what she wants.”

“I do. That doesn’t mean it always works out how I want it to.”

He nodded slowly, as if he hadn’t considered that a girl like me might
not
actually get everything she wanted. Why was everyone so quick to conclude that my life was like this perfect little world where everything Beth wanted, she got?

My entire life had been one struggle after another, and yet I’d gotten through that. I’d made something of my life where many people would’ve failed.

It would have been so easy for me to go the other way. I could’ve ended up like my mother—hooked on crack, and selling my body for next to nothing to get my next hit. But I didn’t. I’d worked hard to make something of myself.

“You think you know me, Roman, but the truth is, you don’t. You see me like everyone else does. This spoiled little brat who gets whatever she wants.” I laughed bitterly. “If you knew what I’d been through over the past . . . over my entire life, you’d know that I deserve what I have just as much as anyone else, and I’ve worked fucking hard to get where I am.”

Roman sat forward. He reached out, his hand grasping my thigh as his eyes bored into mine. I sat there, frozen, confused by the conflicting emotions pouring through me. How the hell could him touching me have me feeling terror
and
desire?

“Beth, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to suggest that. I’m an idiot. I had no business assuming anything about you, because you’re right, I
don’t
know you.” He cocked his head to the side, his eyes narrowing slightly. “But I’d like to change that.”

“Why?” I asked, throwing my hands up in frustration.

“Why what?” His brow furrowed in confusion.

“Why are you so intent on getting to know me, Roman?”

“Because I see a scared, lost girl in need of someone. I’m not asking you to be with me, or sleep with me. All I’m asking is you let me be your friend. Let me help you.”

I slouched back in my chair, feeling defeated. I still didn’t know what his game was. And right now, I didn’t have the energy to argue with him. Besides, he was right—I was alone, and I so desperately needed someone on my side.

“I don’t need your help, Roman. You want to be my friend? Fine, but don’t think you’re going to be my shoulder to cry on.”

“The thought never entered my mind,” he promised dryly. “So, as newly-acquainted friends, can I take you out for lunch?”

I glanced down at my robe and slippers. “I’m not dressed.” 

“I’ll let you change.” He chuckled.

I gave him a dirty look, but stood up. “Fine,” I muttered, marching down to my room, “but you’re paying.”

***

So the guy had taste.

We sat down at a table, tucked in the corner overlooking the water in one of the most exclusive restaurants in Manhattan. I eyed him suspiciously. Even I would struggle to get a table here, especially at such short notice.

“What?” he asked, pouring me a glass of water.

“Nothing,” I mumbled. “What is it you do, exactly? This is a pretty exclusive restaurant. I’m just wondering how you managed to get us a table.”

“Let’s just say I know how to get my way into a few places others don’t.” He narrowed his eyes, and smirked at me when I blushed at his comment. If he was referring to me right then, he obviously didn’t read the gossip. Apparently I offered easier access than—

“Would you like a wine?” he asked.

I nodded.

He ordered a bottle of Pinot noir. “So, tell me about yourself.”

“There’s not much to tell,” I admitted. “I’m actually a pretty boring person.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” he murmured.

A shiver ran down my spine as I watched his eyes sweep over me. Was that . . . excitement I felt? I glowered at him, embarrassed by the way my body was reacting to his attention.

“We all have our secrets, don’t we? Little things that make us who we are. Things that set us apart from everyone else, both in good and bad ways.”

I wonder what secrets he’s hiding?

“I guess you’re right.” He was, but I was also hesitant about sharing anything about myself with someone I’d known for two minutes, no matter how devilishly sexy he looked slouched in his chair across from me.

“So, then tell me something. Tell me something about Beth that nobody else would know.”

“I hate drugs.”

He looked as surprised as I felt. Where had that come from? He waited for me to continue.

“Most of my adolescence was spent living with my sister. She was hooked on some pretty heavy stuff. Coke, heroin . . . she overdosed when I was fifteen.” I reached for the water, gulping down a mouthful. I’d shared much more than I’d been wanting to. Even Coop didn’t know this shit about me.

“Wow. That must have been really rough,” he said softly.

I shrugged. It had been, but it happened, and there wasn’t anything I could do about it.

“Your parents?”

“Mom died when I was twelve. Cancer. Dad—hell, I’ve never even met him. Apparently, he was some deadbeat who ran out when I was young.”

“That’s a lot for a child to deal with.”

“It is. But going through what I have was a big part of getting me where I am today.” Well, not so much messed-up Beth. Or maybe my childhood had an affect on that too. Who knew? I pushed my chair back and stood up. “Bathroom,” I explained, smiling at the confused expression on his face.

“Do you want me to order for you?”

“Sure. A chicken Caesar salad, thanks.” I hurried off toward the bathrooms, the urge to pee coming out of nowhere. That’s what I got for starting the day off with two coffees and a glass of wine.

“Beth?”

I froze in the hallway just up from the bathroom.
Please, no.

“Beth. I . . .” Coop’s voice trailed off. He shook his head, clearly shocked to see me. “I can’t believe it’s you.”

“What are you doing here?” I whispered. I leaned against the wall, feeling dizzy, like I was about to faint. For weeks I’d imagined to myself what I’d say if he were in front of me, and here we were. His deep blue eyes bored into mine, as if he was searching for something.

“I’m here with . . . never mind that, why have you cut me out of your life? I thought we were friends.” He frowned at me as my mouth gaped open.
He
thought we were friends? I pushed past him as the tears began to sting. I wasn’t going to cry. Not here.

“Beth, wait!” His voice echoed down the hall, a sense of urgency noticeable in his tone. I rounded the corner back into the restaurant area and rushed toward Roman.

“Can you take me home, please?”

He nodded and stood up, taking my arm as he scanned the room. Was it that obvious that something had upset me? Thank God he didn’t ask questions.

He just led me toward the exit, my hand clenched firmly in his.

“Are you okay?”

I nodded, my fingers fiddling with the silver dress ring that donned the middle finger on my right hand. Anything to take the focus off what had just happened.

He started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. We drove the few blocks to my place in complete silence. As we reached my front gate, I gathered my things, ready to make a quick exit.

“Beth, wait.”

I jumped as his hand touched my thigh.

His brow furrowed as he studied my face. “Will you talk to me?” he asked gently.

I shook my head, and forced myself to smile. “I’m fine. I-It was just a panic attack.”

He didn’t look convinced, but he nodded. “Can I call you?”

“Yes.”

Chapter Six

Beth

I leaned over the bathroom sink, struggling to breathe. I couldn’t believe he was there. After two months, seeing him had shocked me. He’d looked good. Who was I kidding—he had looked fucking incredible. He was Coop: tall, sexy, with the deepest blue eyes. My heart ached for him.

“
Fuck
.” I lifted my head and stared at myself in the mirror. The small amount of mascara I’d put on was now streaked down my cheeks. “Why can’t this just be over?” I muttered. I’d do anything to rewind to that night. I just wanted the old me back, only I didn’t know how to do that.

The intercom rang. I splashed cold water on my face, patting it dry with a hand towel. I still looked like a mess, but not nearly as bad. As I approached the intercom, I wondered who it could be. Did I want it to be Coop?

Yes…No…I felt so confused.

“Yes?”

“Beth, it’s Roman. Can you buzz me in?”

I pressed the button, wondering what he wanted. I paced by the door while I waited for him to knock. When he did, I opened the door, leaning against it.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t leave you like this. Something is obviously wrong. Look at you, you’re shaking.”

“I’m fine,” I stammered, my heart pounding. I was both shocked and touched by his concern.

“You don’t look fine. Call me overprotective, but I cannot leave you like this. Either you let me inside or I’m sleeping on your porch for tonight.” He glanced around, folding his arms across his chest. I scowled at him. “Pretty cold out here already.” It was barely two in the afternoon and the sun was still out.

“Fine.” I let the door swing open. He flashed me a smile and walked inside, shutting the door behind him.

“I knew you wouldn’t let me freeze.”

I rolled my eyes and motioned for him to follow me.

“I was just about to make some lunch, if you want some.” Cringing, I thought about Coop and having to race out of the restaurant.

“Sounds good. But you sit down and let me make something. Please?” he added when I opened my mouth to protest.

I sighed. It would be easier just to give in and let him help. It was obviously the only way to get rid of him. "Fine," I sighed.

He busied himself in the kitchen as I sat at the table, my head resting in my hands. My mind was still on Coop. Seeing him had been such a shock. He'd looked good.

"Do you actually have any food?" I glanced up. Roman was leaning against the kitchen counter. He looked amused. Shit. I still hadn't gone shopping.

"I'm really not that hungry anyway," I replied.

"You have to eat, Beth. Let me order a pizza."

"Okay," I agreed.

He pulled out his phone. "What do you like?"

"Whatever," I muttered. Right now, I couldn't care less about what toppings were on my pizza.

After he'd ordered, he convinced me to join him in the living room. I followed him in there, sinking down into one of the black leather recliners. Roman picked up the remote and turned on the TV.

"Seinfeld?" he asked. I shrugged, resting my head on the armrest. He sat down and quickly became engrossed in the sitcom. I loved that he didn't try and force conversation on me. The last thing I felt like doing at the moment was talking. We watched the TV until lunch arrived, then continued to watch it while we ate. I managed about half a slice of pizza.

"I might go to bed," I said, pushing my plate over onto the coffee table. "I think what I need is a good night’s sleep."

He studied me for a moment and then nodded.

"You can go if you like. I promise I'm fine."

"Okay. I'll leave you alone. But promise me you'll call if you need anything?"

I nodded. I stood up and walked him to the door.

"Sweet dreams, beautiful." He kissed me on the nose. I locked the door after him and trudged down to my bedroom.

Stripping my clothes off, I climbed into my huge empty bed, pulling the covers up tightly around my neck. I hoped what I was feeling could be cured by sleep. But somehow I doubted it.

Chapter Seven

Roman

Arriving home, my mind was still on Beth and this afternoon at lunch. One minute she had been happy and laughing, and the next she was in the midst of a panic attack. The urgency in her voice when she’d come back from the bathroom had scared me. My first thought was that she’d been attacked or confronted by someone, but then she kept assuring me she was okay . . . now I didn’t know what to believe.

Throwing my keys on the kitchen counter, I grabbed a can of soda and went straight into my study, kicking the door shut with my foot. I shrugged my jacket off and hung it on the back of the door, and then I sank into my chair. Sighing, I reached up and curled my fingers around my tie, yanking it loose and throwing it onto the desk.

Fuck
. I ran my hands through my short hair, lacing my fingers together behind my head. I closed my eyes and tried to remember how important this job was to me. How important it was for me to get paid. And then I thought about her.

Beth.

I knew more about Beth than she probably knew about herself—a side effect of my job. I knew she’d started her singing career when she was fifteen. I knew she had no family, that her mother had died when she was twelve, and that her father had left when she was two. I knew she had been cared for, for most of her life by her sister—if you could call it caring. She had been through so much shit, I got angry just thinking about it.